Original poem written by @toastyhat ! It’s not very fancy in terms of tune because I’m not a composer in any sense, but this is the tune I read it to when I first saw her post. c:
I finally got around to recording this thing, except funny story, that involved discovering that my parents’ closet is the best place we have to record. He then proceeded to walk in and wonder why the hell his offspring was singing in his closet.
katie is card games like snap and uno and go fish! love heart candies and wavy skirts that flare out when you spin, tutus and zoe from sesame street. kittens with little ears and paper airplanes with glitter in the wings, blown kisses, polka dot headbands and bunny ears in photographs. polaroid pictures in scrapbooks, and sad days that turn to good days, and squishy dirt after it’s rained all day. katie to me is good thoughts and flowy tunes and fancy words :)
Gosh I need more blocking mats. 9 is just not enough to make various configurations that I need.
I had to pin down every single picot along the top border. I almost didn’t (because time) but I’m glad I did because it really opened the work up.
This project has been such a pain in the ass. Never in my life have I screwed up a single project so many times. I really just wanted to get it done and was rushing and that’s how my big lace fuck up happened. After ripping it back I decided to add stripes and I’m so infinitely glad I did. It made me love this garment again. It just pulled everything together so well.
This weekend I’ll be taking some fancy photos so stay tuned!
Hooray hooray, it’s Friday Reads! I’m flaunting my ARC privilege with Finn Fancy Necromancy (stay tuned for Jason Heller’s rave review next week).
Rose says, “I’ve been walking around with a copy of Hanif Kureishi’s The Last Word in my bag. Does that count as reading?”
PA Andrew reports “I’m reading Scott McClanahan’s Hill William because I’m visiting my folks this weekend and reading seems better than watching videos of Journey on Youtube with my dad.”
And Intern Malika sends this encomium on The Passion: “I’ve been rereading Jeanette Winterson’s The Passion on the metro because it is capable of destroying me with such enviably economical prose. It’s a slim read, but man. The plot sounds silly: Henri, Napoleon Bonaparte’s personal chicken cook, falls in love with Villanelle, a Venetian woman who likes to cross-dress and has given her heart to the Queen of Hearts. But it’s not what it seems! I go to bed with the book nearby / keep it forever in my laptop bag (like a talisman?) It’s ridiculous. I have a complex. I need a personal janitor to mop me off the floor whenever I’ve finished it.”
What’s slopping YOU all over the floor this weekend?