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Almira Gulch and Roses

I was wrong today... And glad to be so.

After completing part of the work for altering a dress, ready to test out the fit, I started telling myself all kinds of stories.

  • She's going to hate it. It'll be all wrong. (And this is after I've done hundreds, if not a thousand or more, dresses.)

  • She will be completely disappointed.

  • She will question my very existence.

  • She's Almira Gulch come back to life (you know, the mean woman on the bicycle in the Wizard of Oz).

  • She'll shoot laser beams out of her eyes to obliterate me.

Okay, you know how quickly the made-up stories can spiral from somewhat plausible to totally ridiculous.

None of that happened. No laser beams. No creepy woman flying through a tornado. Not even a hint of disappointment.

I wasted all that mental energy worrying about something that never happened!

The lady was kind and pleasant and smiling. We had a great chit-chat during the fitting. What was I so worried about?

This is exactly what I tell our worrier-child NOT to do. Here I am learning the same lesson... again.

Most people, if you give them a smile and a listening ear, are pleasant to be around. They just want to be noticed, appreciated, and heard.

A note to clarify: I am not back in the alterations business, but I still help out a shop in Wabash, IN, on the side. Other than that, you have to be a family member by blood or marriage to get my sewing services.


What a week. I've been off writing just from sheer exhaustion. Here are a few happenings:

  • As I was sitting in my car dinking around with texts and phone calls to make this afternoon, our pileated woodpecker friend landed at the window on the other side. That's the big woodpecker which can grow to be 19" tall. I was 3 feet from a pileated woodpecker! Did I get a picture? I tried, but no picture.

  • There's almost no rabbit feed to be had. All the 4-Hers wiped out the supply at the farm store. Our bunny has the sad, little bag left all alone on the shelf. He doesn't seem to care, though.

  • Speaking of the Bunn, he has an upgrade from his cramped crate. I found a dog crate at the farm store. 25% off because of a bent corner that doesn't actually prohibit any proper function. Percentage off is noted because Midwesterners are bound by a code of ethics to disclose the deal they got. When we do pay full price, we keep that under wraps. The hunt of the deal is a true sport here. We stay in the game by making sure everyone around us knows all the fabulous deals that the true sportsman and -woman (that would be us, the speaker) can acquire by sheer cunning, skill, and perseverance.

  • Back to the crate, it's like going from a 400-square-foot studio apartment to a 4000-square-foot mini-mansion. The inside is large enough to accommodate an atrium; I just need to add the balcony part. Mr. Leo Bunn is living the bunny life. He spends half his time flopped out like the lion for whom he is named. Legs to the side, front paws like the Sphinx, and his mane-like fringe around his face. Leo the Lionhearted.

  • Our roses are starting to bloom! (See picture below.)

  • Time for a trip to the greenhouse. I'm seeing everyone's pretty flowers on our neighborhood walks. Going to the greenhouse makes me think I can grow plants for real. Always an optimist.

  • Three more days of school left. Gulp. I need to stock up on freezer pops and hot dogs. Quick kid lunches and treats.

The first blooms of the year.


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