these days of leiderhosen

Well, Today I have the whole office to myself and the Gay Office Mate Luis is out celebrating something somewhere. The view is still terribly distracting to me and I can hear almost everything going on in the street seven floors below. The fresh air is quite hard to get used to.

I know the blog looks plain and odd; I am trying to find a new template with a left side oriented column. This is more tricky than I planned on. From Garance Dore: completely rocking photos of kid s at a rodeo. If western wear isn't/wasn't influential in fashion, what is? I spend too much time at Amazon.co.uk finding all kinds of things to read. My Impossible Three Tasks are almost sewn up! I'm taking two extra days off in addition to the University Furlough Period to get the last xmas push through.

I'm sorry, Darlings. It's been awhile and I have really missed you. There was this icky flu and then work exploded and it took awhile to dig myself out. I am almost out of the wood. Almost. Here's bit of brain detritus. Tom Ford makes Terry Gross happily uncomfortable on Fresh Air . It's desperately funny. He may be trying to seduce her. I have no less than four active projects on more than a dozen needles, 2/3 are presents including a massive task of spinning 9 ounces of Malarkey merino for Ms. Jess. Up in the Air was very good. Vera Farmiga is breathtaking and holds her own against Clooney. Where has she been all my life? This upcoming year, I will increase my production for newborn hats confining the yarn choices to either Knitpicks Superwash Worsted or Cascade 220 Superwash Worsted . I've been singing "Here We come a Wassailing" to myself. As it has only four notes and I can safely hit three of them. It's the only Christmasy thing I can sing ....

The ones in the middle are my favorite Franco Sarto's Napoli. Nice platform, a luscious red suede and a graceful, manageable heel. Somehow shoes never look as good in a nine as they do in the sixes they use for display. My Ma has fantastic legs; mine look like they came off a piano. I wonder what she'd look like in red heels. A Thanksgiving story about government cheese. Chocolate and Zucchini led me here and now I am dazzled. How will be survive without a terrine press?

Miss Lola has been trapped (with some heroic effort from the Steven) and will be going in for fixing tomorrow morning. She did not go willingly. Gloves, towels, and zip ties have all come into play. It's unnerving to sit here knowing a wild animal is sorrowfully howling in the house, in the garage, in a car, in a cage under a sheet. I am a very, very bad person. This week at work promises to be hellish. This is not the time for my throat to be getting sore and to worried about angry little tigers in residence. For the first time this season, the heat kicked on in the house; it was a beautiful thing. The chiffon window dressings fluttered, the heat registers (hey! more than one!) purred and we were warm as toast before the first batch of waffles were done.