On A Wigged Out Blast from the Past:

So today I was cruising on the internet looking for vintage advertising to get some pictures to paste on the Out House’s inner door and a wall or two. Yes, people did that back then.

And I found this Ad link to Vintage plastic play wigs for girls.

(I don’t steal other peoples things so you’ll just have to see them for yourself.)

They are three semi soft plastic molded hairstyles just like the ones that my little sister had back in the day. My friends and I were too old for this stuff but we got to being silly and played with them one day pretending to be singers.

Goofy stuff that young people do, I know. But we were all there at one time or another.

What a rush to be a silly teen pretending to be a 60’s rock star again, while looking at those silly kids toy wigs.

I’m old and I know it, but I still like to have a bit of silly fun every once in a while. I wonder what ever happened to those wigs. I could use one to have a granny Lady Gaga moment.

On Dolling Goth?:

The more that I work with my Victorian Dolls and all their stuff, the more I want to make a Goth doll set. House and all.

Yes, I’m Crazy! Its official! If you know me, you know that I have to have more than one ball to juggle in the air. And all the balls are not balls at all. Some can be almost any object.

Its taken me 15 years to get to this point. And here I am thinking of starting a new project from the ground up.

And I am ‘not’ done with the first project yet!

And, Where would I put it! I hardly have room for the ones I have.

Yes, I’m getting closer to the end of the Victorian Doll project and that makes me nuts. Because, if I’m done with the Victorian Dolls, what would I be able to I put my mind to?

My mind says to me, “You know ever so much more about all this stuff so it shouldn’t take half as much time.”

But the rub is, that some of this stuff has taken me that 15 years long to find, collect and make.

And then there is the money issue. Do I start saving now for all the stuff I’ll need to work with. And the cost of everything has gone up over the years. Things I bought at $1 dollar years ago are $5 or $6 dollars now.

Yet, I can’t let go of the notion that I could in fact do it given the time.

A smaller project, maybe? Apartment not a house?

But then my mind goes to a whole Apartment building of Goths. Or better yet an old Victorian mansion of Goth. With Addams’s visiting for fun…

Stop me now or I’ll never be able to stop myself!

And maybe a Mortuary in the basement… With a Cemetery in the side yard… And a Green house full of strange plant life… And the clothing! Oh so many pieces of Gothy clothing…

On Just One Of Those Days:

On Just One Of Those Days:

I tripped. One of those little trips where you don’t fall down, but the things in your hands go flying and you kind of trip over them before you can stop yourself.

I did this with the spiral staircase for the doll house. It took hours to fix it. And I still have to replace a few parts, but it is in one piece and standing again.

And the toilet broke. It needs a new flusher valve and I have to wait until Mountain Man can get out for the part to fix it. So for now I have to use a bucket of water to flush.

And I got a wasp up my skirt while walking the dog. Seven stings later I managed to get it out. I had to limp home as they swelled. A baking soda poultice helped, but I still have red swollen bumps on my legs.

Tomorrow has to be a better day. And knowing that I can look forward to enjoying it, with no reservation, makes me smile.

On Distractions:

For days I have been trying to find a resolution about 4 video games I bought from the 'Nevosoft' company. Annabel, and My Kingdom for the Princess 1, 2 & 3. I went to 'Nevosoft' because they are the makers of these games and they offered disc versions at a reasonable price. $6.99 each for most of their games and that included shipping.

I really have liked playing these games on line and wanted the discs (Full versions) so I could put them in my various computers without having to pay for the games over and over again for each download, as I moved from one computer to the next.

After waiting for the discs to arrive for weeks without result, I got in touch with the distributor 'RegNow' to find that I was sent an email with the codes for the downloadable versions. And that they never got the word to send backup discs.

I went into an explaination of needing discs to wrap for presents. (As they are a gift from my husband to me.)

There is no place to talk to the 'Nevosoft' company directly. Only a Tech Support email address. I can’t do much right now but let the credit card company try to get my money back.

One of the reasons it is taking so long is that we are in a rain pattern again. I’ve learned the hard way that I need to unplug my computer when a storm comes to call. So I’m lucky if I get a quick email out before I need to unplug again.

I am thankful that the flooding is not hitting my house. But the inconvenience of all this rain is getting on my nerves. And it bugs me when I don’t get what I paid for. Sorry for the rant folks. I do try to keep them to a minimum.

On Beating that Bad Mood Back:

I beat the bad mood I woke with yesterday with the help of Miss Mousey from Knotty Mouse. She has a blog I read regularly.

She reminded me of our Thankfulness Tea Parties on the web every February. Maybe I should have them more often.

Being an Elder Goth can be a drag sometimes. Others (some vanilla’s I know.) keep wanting me to grow up and stop all this Goth stuff, and the younger generation of Goth’s have no use for me. ‘Old Fart’ being the kindest comment to me of late.

This leaves me without a local Goth community. So I find myself having to tone it down more often than I really want to or I find myself with no one to hang with.

And although Mountain Man tolerates my Gothiness for the most part, he would rather it was not a full tilt daily barrage of the stuff. And he is definitely not into spiders. Meaning, I can only wear my spider jewelry when he is not about. (Marriage is full of compromise on both fronts.)

Some days I don’t want to be all old lady and respectable in my black pants suit, top and shoes when I go out and about. I want to Goth it out like any Goth would. Part of being a Goth is that pushing the ‘limits’ thing.

I have lovely Victorian Mourning clothing that doesn’t see the light of day often enough. And frankly I’d love to be seen in public in it much more than I do.

I spent that vanilla six weeks taking care of that woman. I didn’t have to. But I feel that when I’m ill I don’t want to see nothing but vanilla, and that she didn’t want to see nothing but Goth. In fact she doesn’t like it at all. (But to each his or her own.)

So Miss Mousey helped me by reminding me that I am thankful for any day I have to be my Gothy silly self. Whether in my full Goth regalia or scrubbing the bathroom in some old sweats. The Goth I am can still shine (Or darkly radiate) through. And that makes me happy!

On Checking Facts:

On further checking my facts it was Knit Yoga that meme-ed me.

Not that I don't like or find Darkside of Knitting a good blogger, because I do, but credit should go were credit is due.

And so please give Knit Yoga a look see.

She makes wonderful crafts besides her knitting.

And thanks for putting up with my memory troubles. I'd loose my head if it wasn't stuck on.

On A Shout Out:

Back a few weeks ago when I was going through that bad time of my dogs dieing, Darkside of Knitting tagged me for a meme. And I thank her because every peek into my blog helps.

It was a meme I had done a few months before, the Stylish Blogger Award, and I just couldn’t bring myself to get into it at that time.

But I really like her blog and didn’t want her to loose my adding to her traffic by nhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifot playing along. So please go and check out Darkside of Knitting. You just might like it too.

On It Got To Me:

Over the weekend I was going to show you pictures of the flowers blooming in my yard.

Every time I picked up the camera to get those pictures the phone rang or someone dropped by.

The pictures were never taken.

The same conversation kept on being repeated over and over. Tornado destruction, wars, flooding, earth quakes. Lucky it wasn’t us. So sad for those people.

By the end of Sunday I was in tears. I couldn’t listen any longer. Not that I didn’t care. It was that I did. I was feeling it too much and couldn’t fix it for them or myself.

I’m no stranger to bad times. I’ve had cancer, I‘ve lost a child, gone through a divorce. Bad times come and go.

I know good times also. I’m glad for even the bad days in my life. Life has its ups and downs. And I’m living my life in the best way I know how.

I laugh and groan at my happy puppy daily. But by Sunday evening even the puppy couldn’t get a smile out of me.

I’ll do what I can, donate, pray, help in my own way from where I am. But tonight it wasn’t enough. I just had to cry some of the pain away. Knowing that the losses some of those people suffered will have changed those people forever more.

I know that damage in my heart and my heart bleeds for them remembering my own losses and how deep they went for me.

They will smile and dance and sing again someday. But right now there is emptiness and tears, pain and loss. And it just got to me.

On Venturing Abroad:

So being at the ‘spa’ for a week had me grocery shopping this morning. We were out of just about everything perishable. The frig was bare.

I clung to the shopping cart like a champ, managed to get all the needs met, but I needed a nap when we got home. Mountain Man thankfully put the groceries away for me.

I did, of course, leave my shopping list and coupons home on the kitchen counter. My head is still in the clouds of post spa-dum I think. But that also could be looked upon as the same as normal for me and my bad memory.

Sir Handsome spent the shopping time in his crate in the back seat of the car sleeping the time away. (Probably the last time we do that as the warmer weather will be here all to soon. And I don’t do sun baked puppy in the car.) It was still cool enough in the car to have him with us so we did.

There was also the drama of Sir Handsome’s bone chews. There is this one kind of puppy chew bones, he likes this particular flavor that this one brand has. Of course it is not sold to the public, only retailers.

And, you guessed it, I’ve only found one store by me that carries it. I have been trying to get my local grocery store to stock extra for me, if not order me a case. They do carry them you see. But all I can get each week is the few on the rack. Not enough to hold him over until the next shopping trip.

I talk to one person after another, each time someone new. I even phone in between times that I am there. To no avail. They can’t seem to get their act together and order me some dog chew bones for my puppy. This has been going on for weeks now.

Yes, I do know that my drama is ever so much more interesting. That is why I share it with you. Thank you for noticing. Hee, hee.

Anyway, that is it for my travels from my cozy bat nest. And you know how it is; dishes are calling my name, the floor needs washing and I have to wash the bed sheets or I wouldn’t be able to change the bedding again on sheet changing day. So I guess I’d better get at it.

On Got a Little Lost Filling a Hole:

Well, I’ve been looking at puppies. Mostly on the web.

I doesn’t matter what kind they are. Any puppy will do. I’m not quite ready to bring one home just yet. But it does my heart good just to look.

I did discover a kind of dog new to me. A Chiweenie. It is a Chihuahua/Dachshund mix. Kind of like a mini, mini dachshund. (Of course there are some that are more Chihuahua, but I’ve found them to be more rare so far.)

Anyway, here is a video for your pleasure too.

On Reality, TV and Goth:

As you know, if you’ve been reading my blog for some time now, I am against ‘Reality TV’. We all know that they practice creative editing to make things look one way when in fact it was not that way at all. So I just don’t watch it or much TV since that is a large part of the viewing out there.

But there is one thing that will make my break this fast and hard rule of ‘No Reality TV’ I’ve set down for myself. Goth!

I can’t get enough of Kent and Vyxsin on ‘The Amazing Race‘.

Like the first season that they were on, as soon as they were/are removed I will drop the show like a hot potato. I really don’t care who wins, I just want to see ‘my’ Goths for as long as I can.

I watch on Sunday nights and then again on Monday mornings on the web to catch the parts I missed the first time around.

I live in a Goth poor area and other Goths in my age group are nonexistent. So any little glimpse of Gothiness warms my Gothy cold dark heart.

Tuesdays, of course, is my Abby Sciuto fix for fictional perky Goth. But knowing that she isn’t really a Goth, but just plays one on TV, doesn’t fill the need despite that I love the character.

If I could I’d live near another Elder Goth. We could have a friendship different then that of my other friends. I could be me, with no eye rolling or the “Can‘t you look like us just for once.” comments.

Some days I’m tired of being the only one in the crowd. I hate all the dressing down I do. I hate having no one to drool over my Victorian Mourning dresses. I hate no one to share tips and accessories with to expand my and their wardrobe.

Being a lone Goth is not something I chose for myself. It has been with me for most of my life. So you would think I’d be used to it by now.

But every spring I hope to see another Gothy person emerge from winter entombment out and about in the grocery or department store. Even my local magazine stands stopped carrying Gothic Beauty magazine for lack of buyers. So now I must get it in the mail and loose the hope of finding another Goth picking up the magazine when it came out each month like I did. Even if they were quite a bit younger, at least I’d know that they would be out there.

I just one old Goth calling out in the night. ‘Friend or Foe?’

On Emotional Hair:

Well with Spring right around the corner, I decided to get my hair trimmed.

This sounds like a simple statement. But considering the hair loss from the cancer and the fact that I’ve had long hair most all my life, it was a kind of a big thing for me.

Now don’t get me wrong, I loved my bald head. It was sensual and exciting. But at the same time I was sick and miserable. It didn’t have the fun factor at the time I needed to keep it that way.

So I waited it out. All through the odd and awkward stages of hair growth, not a trim did it get.

I was going for length here. And I got it. All the way to my butt. But once there it was weak and scraggily at the ends.

For the first year or so of the long hair it was curly enough to hide that fact but as my hair thinned out this past winter (Summer is my hair growing time of year.) I felt that it was time to clean it up and make it look nicer.

I don’t go to the hair dressers, partly because I’m frugal and partly because they always cut off far more than I want cut. (What is with their need to cut long hair off?)

And so out came the scissors. Mountain Man kindly assisted as my guide and hands at different parts of this story. (I would not see my daughter before I wanted this done, so I went with hubby who had helped me cut off my hair just before the chemo took it.)

No Matter how or who was cutting, it just didn’t hang strait.

So in the end the hair that was down to my butt is now only just below the shoulders. The trim turned into a cut, and most of my curly post cancer hair is gone.

I’m now still trying to get used to it. My long braid I was used to sleeping with is gone. A short stumpy one in its place.

It is not so short that I can’t still put it up. But the piles of hair are no longer there to play with and style. I’ve wanted to cry since the day we did the deed.

I know it will grow back, given time, but I’m emotionally attached to my hair.

On Earth Shaking:

I like so many other have been mesmerized for days by the earthquake in Japan.

Morbidly, my mind reels with the many ways a body can die at such a time.

The loss to us all in just creativity and history of all those people has made the world a less fruitful place to live.

The fact that the Island Nation was moved eastward by about 8 inches in places and earth was shaken off its axis by a few inches is hard to comprehend.

It was just another push, pull and bump of the earths crust, moving as always toward its final resting place, once the earth has finished is cooling long after we are gone.

For days I couldn’t get near my computer without hunting for more info and hopes of miraculous rescues. My video games left forgotten and my TV reruns on hulu still waiting for my return.

I didn’t want to know how many people I was once chatting with on line would not be there any longer or that others had friends and or family missing. I didn’t want it to get that close. I hope for the best to all who have come into my sphere of my existence, no matter how briefly the space or time.

And then there is the ‘me’ factor. I’m safe here in Northeastern Pennsylvania right? These are older mountains I live on. Rounded and shortened by time. No, not so much. I’ve lied through and felt tremors from small insignificant earthquakes even here.

I hope and pray that all who have or are destined to die from this slip of the earths crust do so with little or no pain, discomfort or suffering and that those who live through it recover in as short a time as possible. I have little else I can offer at this time, and that hurts me too.

On Mental Blocks:

First, let me say that I have permission from my friend, Lady Jane. She finds her story funny.

We are dear, old, shopping friends and though we hardly ever see or talk to each other any longer, (Since I don’t drive now either.) We pick up the conversation just where we left off the next time we see each other.

Lady Jane is sweet, and a kind, loving person. Her home is sparkling clean. Dust doesn‘t dare land on her furniture or she is eliminating it.

But she has a disability. She can’t wash dishes until they are clean all the way round. Her husband has installed the best model dish washer he can afford in their home so he, and any guests, have clean dishes to eat off of. Lady Jane doesn’t use it, only he does. They have separate dishes and cabinets for them.

We have talked about this subject for decades. Jane only cleans the inside of her dishes and the working part of her flatware. The parts that she cleans are very clean. I’m not talking about walking them through the dish water and saying ‘done.’

Somewhere in her past she learned to do it that way and hasn’t gotten passed it. The handles of her spoons and cups are sticky and the grime on the outside of each glass, plate, cup or bowl sticks to the inside of the other when stacked to put away in her dish cabinet. I know, discussing!

Her pots and pans, and cooking utensils sparkle inside and out. She can and does clean them to within an inch of their lives. It is the table wear that she has a problem with.

I can’t eat at her house because of it. I’m a ‘make it clean all over or die’ dish washer. And knowing that there is a cabinet of what I feel is dirty dishes in that kitchen of hers makes me crazy.

What causes such mental blocks that some people can risk their health continuing to do things the same old way? Why can’t they break through and fix the problem?

I don’t get on her case about it. I’m fatter than a house myself. She can pick up a clean dish and eat off of it. I’m not so lucky.

I’m at 230 pounds and in that picture of me in that heading of mine I was 190. I was sewing on Friday to have anything to wear. I’ve out grown all my clothing. I used my hurt knee as an excuse to sit on my butt. And I gained that last ten pounds just this past week.

I’ve got to get pasts this mental block about exercising and loose some of this weight or I won’t be around to see my grandbaby grow up.

On Love And Longing From A Distance:

Okay, So I’m loving my new computer from a distance.

The computer tower is off gassing and I’m allergic to the gasses.
Blinding headaches since it was unboxed.

So, as long as I stay out of the room in which it is in, I’m good.

I have been running it from afar to try to speed up the process. Fan going and window open in that room. I don’t know how long this will take, but I hope not too very long.

I’ve been watching Internet TV through the doorway. Not the experience I was hoping for, but better then nothing at the moment.

I’m learning how long I can hold my breath as I run in and change the channel or start another download update.

On another subject, It is deer hunting season here in Pennsylvania. Mountain Man is butchering freezing and canning a deer that a neighbor gave him. He didn’t go out hunting yet this year and now he may not.

Even though I’m a vegetarian it doesn’t bother me that he hunts. He eats meat and I don’t. I’m a Goth and he’s not. We just have differences. It keeps things interesting.

So while my husband cooks and cleans the bones. I watch Star Trek - Enterprise from across two rooms. Yes, I like Star Trek Enterprise. People love it or hate it, and I’m in the love category. Even if all I can get is on a computer screen far, far away.

I’m longing to type stories, visit people on the internet, and play my games, but that will just have to wait for another day.

On The Throes Of Indecision:

So I am still in the throes of indecision, but past the point of feeling like throwing things.

I hate that moment of finality when I get all buyers remorse and want to throw myself down screaming ‘No! Stop! I’ll make a better decision tomorrow! I can’t take the pressure of a possibly bad decision that might come to haunt me! And what if something bad happens in between.’

And yes they do. Like say the range I picked out a few months ago that came late and broken, then replaced and dented.

So I panic. I just had to stay off the web for a few days or else I just might have canceled the order for my new computer.

Now it is too late. They started making it to my specs and the check is in the mail as they say.

Yes, it is the one I wanted and more. I saved my pennies and I don’t have any guilt about the one I ordered. I just don’t want the delivery truck to get into an accident and I’ll have to wait yet again for them to make me another or some such thing.

I could have just taken one off the shelf and had it in my hot little hands right now. But I was just picky enough and frugal also, to get more for my money by having it loaded with only the things I wanted at the level of power I wanted.

It is not a super gamer, but it will do.

So now I sit in fear of a lemon. After Rupert and his ‘on and off’ electrical troubles you would too.

I’m glad I don’t get like this with all my purchases. I’d be a flaming wreck.

I’ll be tracking my computer until they are through making it and it travels to my door. Not because I can’t want to get flying on those internet pathways again, but because I’m just a bit paranoid like that where shipments are concerned.

But when it get here all nice and new and working perfectly, and I can breathe again. I’ll be loving it. All self torture forgotten.

On Crafting Reborn:

Now that there is a little one in the family again I can’t wait to start working with fabric again.

I loved making cloth toys for my kids. From patchwork quilts with roads and parks, soft blocks and toys, to dolls and dress up costumes. My sewing machine was rarely put away in those years.

I have been hatching some lovely Goth ideas for toys. (Still in the working stages.) Time to raid the fabric stores after Halloween I think for fabric with bats, skulls and black cats on them.

I’m not sure how the parents said grandchild will feel about them. But I think that the kiddle will have fun.

I can’t wait to unearth the sewing machine and get working on a few things. I’ll have to wait until Mountain Man can get my large plastic boxes of fabric out of storage.

As of yesterday, the kitchen sink is back together complete with a new fixture, for those who were waiting with as much anticipation as I was.

Now I can move on to crafting up a lot of fun.

On Walking And Waiting:

The weight is not coming off as fast now. I am still loosing, but slower now that my body has caught on to this new activity.

I am still walking around in circles waiting for that first glimpse of grandbaby. I want to smell that new born baby smell. Hear its coos and cries. Change its poopy diapers.

Boy? Girl? I don’t care! Health? I sure hope so.

I want to knit little things with the sex of a specific cuddly crying infant in mind. Not that I am into the pink and blue thing. But frills or no, would be helpful. (And just for the record, if my grandbaby is a boy and wants frills or a girl who does not, they can have it the way they want when they are old enough to state a preference, but it must be the child’s choice.) I think you now want I mean here. Something knit with that baby in mind.

They are not even telling the names they picked out until it is born.

It is harder to feel involved when you don’t know the sex or name choices.

But I know that the waiting will be over soon. I will survive this time. I will forget the waiting. As soon as I see that ugly scrunched up baby face.

Two heads and ten legs… I don’t care. I have this love all bottled up just waiting to be poured out on this grandkid of mine.

On Another Day Wasted, But In A Good Way:

Well, the snow never came so I didn’t make cookies. Not that my waist line needed them.

Today was very blustery. The wind didn’t know which way it wanted to go and whipped around all helter-skelter. It was a good day to have a fire in the wood stove and keep a cup of tea close by. That is when it wasn’t belching smoke forced in by the fickle wind.

I managed to waste time playing a video game called Ranch Rush. I fed fake cows, sheep, and ostriches, planted crops, collected honey, and made jam, bread and ketchup. I did this for far too many hours, but it felt good because I hadn’t been playing my other games since my computer broke.

I got a lot of house cleaning done in between days farming in the game. I like to get the dust and dirt out before I close up the house for the Winter.

I keep on waiting for the phone to ring. It is getting closer to baby time.

There is still weeks to go, but you know how it is when you’re waiting for something. You want it now.

I’m off to bed early to read and snuggle under the covers. The wind is still making noise outside and I just want to feel all warm and cozy.

On Stiff as a Board:

Well today started with a stiff neck and after hours of a hot water bottle I can now move.

Of course, the only things I have time to do now is the house work then it will be off to bed again.

I am glad it is over, but I just hate to loose a day.

The day was cold and wet. They said snow flurries on the weather report, but I didn’t see any.

And I was looking forward to first snow cookies.

In our house, Every year the person who sees the first snow flake of the season gets to start a batch of cookies and everyone else has to join in. (Not a hardship around here.) It is one of our home made holidays.

If it does snow before I go to bed I’m on those cookies like white on rice.

In fact, I think I’ll stay up a little later then usual just in case. Wouldn’t you do the same?