I know you are just dying to be told how that went.
Well, I finished the seating. The heavy as fuck, wood part, anyway. I stained it but probably didn't seal it properly and OH MY GOD WHO CARES, I WAS JUST TIRED OF BUILDING PATIO FURNITURE.
I think it turned out okay:
The cushions were not sewn by hand as intended, but were purchased at a deep discount because it was, as you can guess, near the end of the season.
We still got a few good weeks of sittin', though.
Note that there is no table-with-cooler, nor is there a chandelier. I even downgraded the plan to Just Make Some Side Tables, but I was tired of the whole thing.
[shakes blog, smacks it around a little]
Oh! Good. Still alive then.
So, around this time of year is when Becky gets all bloggy and inspiring, and I start to think, hey! I have a blog. I should do that again.
(It took until the middle of the month for me to be really inspired this year, not because Becky is not totally inspiring, but because I'm extra lazy.)
But anyway. I guess I should blog, because I have this blog, and I'm paying for it to be hosted somewhere, by people who did something majorly cool like haul their servers up many flights of stairs to keep customers blogs hosted during that giant storm last year, which was approximately the same time I gave any thought to the hosting of my blog.
(That run-on sentence is definitely the best reason to start sharing my thoughts with the world again.)
Also, I have time to blog now, because I am no longer doing the roller derbies.
What? Why? (I imagine you asking.)
Well, as it turns out, making a roller derby league successful is really fucking hard. Our league was the result of a split from the original league in town, and was still finding its wobbly bambi legs. It split for legitimate reasons, and had a good run at it, but was constantly battling challenges like finding a practice space and retaining membership.
All leagues face those challenges, but ours had some major hiccups, and now it is back down to some original core members, all of whom are burnt out on trying to keep the league going. TOD has not been officially called, but the attending surgeon is glancing at the clock.
Also, this summer Alfred broke his leg in his pro wrestling debut. Did I mention Alfred was taking a swing at being a pro wrestler? I think I may have. I guess he decided if I could dress up in crazy outfits and beat people up in front of crowds, so could he.
Anyway, during his exit from the ring - a Royal Rumble in which he spent a good 8 minutes being thrashed by at least 5 men, not that there's anything wrong with that - he landed poorly and cracked his tibia.
(I say "exit" like it was unspectacular, but in fact he was thrown over the top ropes, a move he hadn't even practiced until that day.)
He "sold" it by limping off stage holding his back, which is what wrestlers do. I leaned in towards my friend and said, "I think he actually hurt himself."
She nodded sagely.
He spent the night in emerg. They gave him a brace, which he wore (or a variation of it) for 10 weeks.
Obviously Alfred was the one with the pain and mobility issues, but it really made me realize how screwed I would be if I broke an ankle playing derby. It's a fairly common injury, especially if you drag your toe stops, which I am guilty of. If I were out of commission for 10 weeks (or more), I would...hate it a lot. Really, really, a lot. And Shit would not Get Done.
So, no more derbies. This makes me sad, in some ways. Somehow it is time to move on though. I'm just not sure what to move to. My exercise regime has me halfheartedly following a co-worker around as she lifts weights, which is not that inspiring.
I finally bit the bullet and just paid somebody to put in our patio.
Because, otherwise, it'd be Labor Day before we managed to do it ourselves, and that would give us approximately 2 days to enjoy it before there was snow on it. We spent all last summer with a mud hole instead of a patio and I didn't feel like doing that again.
But because I spent money to get it put in, I felt like I couldn't spend a lot of money on seating. It's a pretty big area, it needs basically an entire living room furniture suite to fill it up.
(Or, a crapload of toys and bikes and garden implements and random shit, but I'd prefer the furniture.)
I know what you're going to say - Keely! Haven't you seen on Pinterest, how you can totally make furniture out of old wooden palettes and some yarn?
And yes, I have seen that. It looks...ok. But I felt like, I'm handier than that, I can wield power tools, I could one-up the wooden palettes and still do it on the cheap. Right? Right.
So I found some plans online for a patio sectional, that looked pretty do-able. About 6 seats, with an estimated 10-12 hours of work. And I thought, hey, while I'm at it I should build it out of 2x4s instead of 1x4s because it will be marginally cheaper but also HEAVY AS FUCK, and that's what I'm looking for in a sectional.
It gets windy here. You can never be too careful.
And while I am at it, I should plan to build about NINE seats, because it's a pretty big area, and also I need some plans for a center table that has built-in coolers, so I can sit and have some beers on ice without having to go into the house. I will probably build that out of 2x4s too because really, who needs to move their table ever?
Cushions? Well, I could probably sew those up. I'm handy, you know.
Oh, and I'm also on the hunt for a chandelier because Pinterest told me it would be cool to hang it from the tree and replace the lights with solar lights.
I'll post a pic when it's all done.
Sometime around Labor Day.
One morning a few weeks ago, I put on a new sweater-type top that I had picked up at Sears Clearance Centre for 6 dollars. Because it was such a bargain, it wasn't a color that I'd normally choose. It was sort of a turquoise-y teal-y blue, a color family which I have largely avoided since the early nineties, when it seemed to be everywhere and was usually paired with pink. And neon.
But, hey, six dollars.
"Ah, teal," remarked Alfred when he saw it, "The color of sarcasm."
"Sarcasm. In this one online game that I play, whenever someone enters teal font into the chat window, it's understood to be sarcastic. I just assumed that was sort of an internet standard."
"No," said I, "It's not."
A couple of weeks later, at the hairdressers, I found myself agreeing to this:
The color was planned. But it was going to be pink. Except my hairdresser showed me this new product, and suddenly the teal was inexplicably appealing.
Then last week on a work trip to Dallas, I got it into my head that I wanted blue cowboy boots. I walked into the store and there they were:
Not blue, exactly, but definitely my boots. They came home with me and I have been planning outfits around them ever since.
I don't know, I can't explain it, this sudden attraction to the color teal.