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Mar. 16th, 2014 02:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stitchwhichI've a sewing project just started. I shouldn't have it as I've got two already entrain but the need is there. Currently our newest day-trip cooler is naked - naked I tell you - with no wardrobe. Bright plastic blue naked. I've cut out a short cover of lovely-patterned gold, rust, and black upholstery fabric to drape slightly over the top with a lighter-weight solid gold brocade skirting. We hit JoAnn's Fabrics for upholstery braiding to cover the edge of the top... oh my. The twisted rope for edging the braid wasn't too expensive but the tassels to hang from the bottom! $29.99 a yard! Which we didn't notice until they were ringing up my two yards. I nearly swooned. For a cooler-cover! The salesclerk used her discount card to bring the price down a bit. Or rather, a lot. We'll be treasuring that cover, I can tell you. The braided tassel trim, btw, looks like the trim seen here: http://foreverdecorating.blogspot.com/2011/10/little-toile-stool-funny-ad.html . As you'd guess, knowing me, there will be no plaid involved in our project. But it should look very luxurious hanging across the gold skirting with the Ottoman patterned top spread above it. Maybe I should take a picture of our 'little boudoir stool" when I'm done with it. (That is what it will look like. Or a Victorian's interpretation of a 'medieval' table skirted so one is not forced to view the table's "limbs".)
There is a cleaning service for cancer patients that has agreed to come to the house and clean once a month for four months. They should be contacting me in a few days to make the actual arrangements. I am so relieved. Physically I am too weak to keep things up as I ought and right now so is Bossman. The dust level is growing. If all they do is simply vacuum and dust, I will rain blessings upon them. I can keep sinks and other porcelain facilities clean - I bought the 'make it easy' tools for those - but it would be sweet to have the shower really scrubbed rather than just rubbed down with a scrubbing bubbles and the long-handled hard sponge thingy I have. That works 'okay' but not 'great'. Mostly, though, I really, really, want the bookshelves (four walls worth, from floor to ceiling, in two rooms and the hallway) dusted. Clean.
In related news, my oncologist has taken me off of the Gleevec earlier than we had planned. It is only seven weeks early but I'm so grateful for it. I should be sleeping better in a few days and able to stand for longer periods shortly after that. And the nausea is due to stop, oh, tomorrow, probably. Maybe the next day. By Friday when Bossman goes in for his second chemo, I should be better rested and less emotionally fragile. The stress has been building too much for me to cope with, stupidly. Tears come too easily over minor things.
I'm assuming it is the result of my situational anxiety (might as well call it that) but I can no longer stand to be anywhere around my husband's TV shows which feature violent fighting and explosions and such... mean westerns with crudely-cussing cowboys & gunfights, loud and vicious arguments, war movies, 'good guys being chased by organized badguys with weapons'... you name it, I can't bear it. My stomach clenches and I start shaking. Panic. From a stupid TV soundtrack.
Currently it is keeping me out of the kitchen where my sewing project is, because the volume is loud enough for him to hear it in the den which means it is loud enough for me to actually hear from two rooms away. The kitchen is, unfortunately, one room from the TV with no door between. And my sewing 'spot' faces the TV.
So I'm on my computer trying to divert myself. I think this may require me hiding in the bedroom since that door closes, and maybe reading with a pillow over my ear. Yeah - the soundtrack of the Evil Twisted Gov't Agency Chasing Down the Honest Cop and his Protected Asset is actually bothering me that much.
Stupid anxiety. Or whatever it is. I bought the man wireless headphones for his birthday but he hasn't figured out how to get them to work and is too proud to let anyone else help him with them. Tomorrow, that is going to be addressed when our friends come over to play cards. They are lithe and able to reach whatever cable plugs are needed (or whatever) to make the TV and the head set work together, which they are going to make happen so I can stop jumping and tearing every time some TV character gets in a verbal or weaponed fight.
I'm such a wuss.
There is a cleaning service for cancer patients that has agreed to come to the house and clean once a month for four months. They should be contacting me in a few days to make the actual arrangements. I am so relieved. Physically I am too weak to keep things up as I ought and right now so is Bossman. The dust level is growing. If all they do is simply vacuum and dust, I will rain blessings upon them. I can keep sinks and other porcelain facilities clean - I bought the 'make it easy' tools for those - but it would be sweet to have the shower really scrubbed rather than just rubbed down with a scrubbing bubbles and the long-handled hard sponge thingy I have. That works 'okay' but not 'great'. Mostly, though, I really, really, want the bookshelves (four walls worth, from floor to ceiling, in two rooms and the hallway) dusted. Clean.
In related news, my oncologist has taken me off of the Gleevec earlier than we had planned. It is only seven weeks early but I'm so grateful for it. I should be sleeping better in a few days and able to stand for longer periods shortly after that. And the nausea is due to stop, oh, tomorrow, probably. Maybe the next day. By Friday when Bossman goes in for his second chemo, I should be better rested and less emotionally fragile. The stress has been building too much for me to cope with, stupidly. Tears come too easily over minor things.
I'm assuming it is the result of my situational anxiety (might as well call it that) but I can no longer stand to be anywhere around my husband's TV shows which feature violent fighting and explosions and such... mean westerns with crudely-cussing cowboys & gunfights, loud and vicious arguments, war movies, 'good guys being chased by organized badguys with weapons'... you name it, I can't bear it. My stomach clenches and I start shaking. Panic. From a stupid TV soundtrack.
Currently it is keeping me out of the kitchen where my sewing project is, because the volume is loud enough for him to hear it in the den which means it is loud enough for me to actually hear from two rooms away. The kitchen is, unfortunately, one room from the TV with no door between. And my sewing 'spot' faces the TV.
So I'm on my computer trying to divert myself. I think this may require me hiding in the bedroom since that door closes, and maybe reading with a pillow over my ear. Yeah - the soundtrack of the Evil Twisted Gov't Agency Chasing Down the Honest Cop and his Protected Asset is actually bothering me that much.
Stupid anxiety. Or whatever it is. I bought the man wireless headphones for his birthday but he hasn't figured out how to get them to work and is too proud to let anyone else help him with them. Tomorrow, that is going to be addressed when our friends come over to play cards. They are lithe and able to reach whatever cable plugs are needed (or whatever) to make the TV and the head set work together, which they are going to make happen so I can stop jumping and tearing every time some TV character gets in a verbal or weaponed fight.
I'm such a wuss.
