I find that I am now editing, nay, censuring my blog because I know some of the people reading it. Certain friends and family. Fuzzarelly sure is boring these days.

Let me tell you where I'm at today. And also for the past several months. No editing. I am not particularly depressed, but I sure don't have anything to cheer about. I find myself solving sudoku puzzles in order to pass the time. I am not interested in anything. I don't want to do anything. I merely want to get through each day as painlessly and quickly as possible. I am waiting to die, if you want to know. I am so tired of life. Not that I will take any active measures to end my existence since mother took that messy way out.

I am told that this is not normal. People should not feel this way. Yeah, well, here I am. It isn't icky hot anymore (which is so depressing), but the fall brings substantially less sun light which makes me sad and listless. Am I not a worthless piece of flesh?

The 300 little samples of Fuzzarelly Fibers that I sent to S.O.A.R. has generated maybe twenty hits at Fuzzarelly.com and zero emails. I de-listed my wares at Etsy because it got no interest. I don't know what to do. My stuff is good - at least to me. I have been spinning it over the weekend and it's been one of the more enjoyable things I've done in a while. It's rather pricey, but not outrageous. Not when one considers what people will spend on their hobbies.

But this is outside of my depression. I'd be depressed either way.

I stopped knitting the body of the leaf/green shawl when I became totally sick of it and began the edging, which is proving to be more interesting than I thought it would be. It's a fairly simple pointed thing and there is an end in sight.

I have sock yarn but no desire to knit socks.

I have way too many things that I am tired of tending to, keeping track of, storing. I don't have the energy to get rid it.

Sweetie is so attentive and adoring but I fear that he will grow tired of my sad face and cease to love me.

I have to pay $2000 for my roto-rooter session that my insurance won't cover. There may not be any insurance at all if Sweetie's job goes gone. Fuck me. (In the old sense of 'hit or strike' me.

I wish I were a bear so that I could hibernate for six months.

If you have stayed with me so far, this is your REWARD.

Firstly, it is still raining here in southern Indiana! We have received over 6 inches of rain, much needed rain, over the past week. When I went to town for errands yesterday and got my socks and shoes soaked, I didn't mind! Live stock ponds that were bone dry have filled up. The river in town is a foot below a bridge I use a lot. Rain Rain Glorious Rain!

But it was dry and beautiful for the Southern Indiana FiberArts Festival this last Saturday. The first year of the festival there were 14 vendors. Last year, maybe twice that. This year, 45! And even better, attendance was incredible. I don't have figures, just my own eyes and I can tell you that folks just kept streaming in all day - and they came to buy! I had a great day, selling fiber, equipment, and 4 bunnies (who went to good homes.) It was a long day, though, as I was alone in my booth. After packing up, I about fell over from exhaustion.

Here is Blue Acorn and her booth. She sells hand dyed yarn and kits for purse and hats.




This is Kristin from Flatwoods Alpaca Farm.



Ann - from the best named yarn store ever, Grinny Possum.



And for you punctuation fuss budgets, "Click Here"

The 3rd Annual Southern Indiana FiberArts Festival was not a success. It was a FANTASTIC SUCCESS! More later...

A brief note. How could I have misspelled Fuzzarelly??? Acid - crazed spiders must have attacked my brain! There are not two Rs in Fuzzarelly and never have been. Thank goodness, an R was exactly in the center, so I cut out bad R and seamed the banner back together and it looks great. I will try to take pictures.

Sweetie, instead of a short week, will work 6 days this week. I was hoping he would be able to help with my booth at the festival, but I suppose if he's going to work he may as well get paid for it.

Knits 'n' Notes

The Southern Indiana FiberArts Festival is THIS SATURDAY. (The link is in the sidebar to your right.) I am finally getting around to painting the backdrop for my booth. Ahead of schedule, I'd say. Sweetie rescued the stencils from a dumpster at work at least two years ago. I knew they would come in handy someday! (Sometimes I love his pack rat nature, other times - not so much.)



Sort of just pulled this image out of my ass. Hello, we need a bunny for the banner. I didn't want to make the bunnies too Easter-ish. Or too anthropomorphic. It's hard to portray fuzziness. However, I am pleased with the overall look of the thing and the FUZZARELLY is big and purple. Hard to miss.




Knitting slowly progresses on the green shawl, opus 2. I steamed blocked it for the photo and it measures 19" x 45" - thank goodness. When I took it off the needles, it looked so tiny and shrunken. Like some snake skin.




I'll be selling a few bunnies down the river this weekend, so I have been grooming them. This is Pepper, who was so furry and cute that Sweetie had to take this photo.



Sweetie has a part-time job for at least the next three weeks, while a potential buyer looks things over. This work week is three days long and the next two weeks may well be the same. I see lots of beans and rice in our future.

I am done with the anti-robotic regimen! That stuff is nasty and did horrible things to my intestinal tract. I have been inhaling yoghurt all the time, which may have helped. But it was still awful and I am glad to be shet of it. Now we wait to see if the pain/infection returns.

Good news is that we got a half inch of rain yesterday with more expected tonight. Temperatures are more seasonal, too. The bunnies be happy.

Have you been to the past lately?

Bunnies and Movies

This is Brownie, back in March.



Now he's called Ginger.



Some of you all have asked about my sordid past in the movie industry.

It is not possible to make this short and interesting. The story will be long and probably not at all interesting.

To start at the beginning, it seems like I was born sewing. When I was 4 or 5, I sat on the floor of the front porch and "helped" my mom sew on a treadle sewing machine by pushing up and down on the treadle. A few years later, I sat in her lap at the new-fangled electric sewing machine and seamed some gingham for a doll skirt. At age ten, I was given access to an even newer sewing machine in order to make "my own clothes." Mom's only caveat was "Don't break it!" Thanks Mom! I made my up own patterns and made my own clothes. I had no idea that this was supposed to be hard.

(Back then, it was actually cheaper to sew one's own clothes. Imagine.)

I parlayed this talent into a job at a costume company, back in 1976. (Before China made everything for us.) I stitched for money for many years. My friend Judy and I started a not-for-profit costume company in Atlanta in 1984. Judy was the resident designer and executive, and I was the general dog's body. I was the shop manager, first hand, stitcher, rental manager, and toilet cleaner. (Judy was so supportive, though. A great teacher! She had a big library! I am what I am because of her. Thank you, J. Dragon!)

I did not go to college to get a degree in theater or costume design/construction. I am an autodidact. If I don't know how to do something, I get a book and figger it out. With varying success. (I am not a milliner, for example. My hats suck.) I learned to how take a designer's rendering, create the pattern, and construct it.

So. Despite a lack of ambition, my talent became known around Atlanta. My talent also became known to me, when once I went toe to toe with an honest-to-god-college-ejimicated costume person. And won. Actors loved me because their costumes fit! I was good, pragmatic, and fast.

Circa 1991, costume gossip centered on a new teevee show, I'll Fly Away, that was coming to town and how to get one's resume to these California people. Faxing was new-fangled then, and costly. I was not interested because I already had a job. (Actually, I had three jobs then, but that's a whole 'nuther story.)

Imagine my delight when two weeks later I received a phone call from the wardrobe supervisor of the new teevee show asking if I would be interested in working for them. Seems she had called around and My Name was mentioned by everyone as The Best Costume Person Around. I loved working with that costume designer and I really loved that gig.

I also learned that getting into the working-in-film door is hard, but once one's foot is in that door, and one is deemed a reliable, good, and diligent worker, then practically every film door is opened. The costume designer of I'll Fly Away liked me a lot and he told his friends back in California. So, I got work on several straight-to-video movies, plus a few made-for-teevee movies. And made lots of money.

Soon, I discovered that this industry was not good for my soul. These movie people took themselves way too seriously, as if what they did was important made any difference. No cure for cancer was ever involved.

So I quit. Took my toys (and money) and moved to a state far, far away.