I… need to get those photos to move further down the page, seriously. Also I just updated WordPress and crossed my fingers and my eyes and tried to save off everything I might need to rebuild; it looks OK to me from here but if something looks screwy, please be sure to tell me and I will… well, I’ll be sad about it. I don’t think there’s all that much I can DO about it, but rest assured I will wish that I could.
My main problem with the dress you see below is not, in fact, the starfish (or the brittlefish if I’m being correct, I guess); it’s the way the ruching has been tacked down. On your four-figure wedding dresses, this stitching is done underneath the folds so it can’t be seen, and it looks as if a large amount of material has just naturally draped itself around you in the manner of a Greek oracle. I can, technically, remove this and restitch it, but a) I shouldn’t have to, and b) I don’t know if the satin material will hold the sewing marks & puckering, as I suspect it would (although I haven’t tried it and I haven’t asked a dressmaker). Nobody else has picked up on this stitching but me, but I find it GLARINGLY AWFUL and so it’s better I don’t have to defensively cross my arms all day, or request a horizontal bouquet I can hug against myself. Anyway, it’s v. nice apart from that so I don’t see a problem in selling it. Any takers? Beach Barbie, perhaps?
Car update: MY CAR IS BACK YAYYYYY. That’s eleven weeks. I am a SAINT. I drove it home on Friday afternoon, Mr. T washed it and on Saturday morning we drove it to trade it in. New car will be mine next Wednesday; with the slight problem that the registration on my car expires on Saturday, leaving me three days in which I must… catch the train. How I’ve missed my fellow train commuters. How happy I shall be to see them all again. How flat and lifeless I sound. Anyway, I have really liked my car (paid off! No trouble! Fill with diesel once a month!) but clearly I have moved into the expensive Old Age Upkeep part of its life and I am harshly fobbing its problems onto someone else. Good luck, little car! May your transfer case never (again) fail!
Cat update: He went to the vet for his vaccinations (well, we took him, he didn’t go on his OWN) and came away with a diagnosis of ear mites. The vet looked dubious when we told him large flakes of grossness were flying out of his ears when he shook his head (the cat’s head, not the vet’s), yet obediently looked down his ears only to find MITE CITY, or perhaps METROPOLIS. So we have a tiny bottle of yellow oily stuff which must be squirted into the cat’s ears and then you rub firmly under the ear to squidge it all in; it sounds revolting, and it can’t be any better hearing it from the inside, as the cat is doing. Anyway, it’s called canaural compositum, leading to us waving the little bottle over our head like a wand and intoning “CANAURAL COMPOSITUM!” towards the cat, in manner of Harry Potter. For the record, the yellow oil does not fire out of the bottle and directly into the cat’s ears; we still have to hold him down and drip it in there. This would explain our lack of back-to-school letters from Hogwart’s, I guess.