I'm staying up late tonight. I got it into my head to make some loose tunics, and I started the first one this afternoon. It came after I shopped for days for my foster daughter's wedding, and couldn't find anything that fit me well, that was loose and comfortable, and long enough to compensate for my long torso. Since October I've gained an entire 2 year old person's worth of weight, and I've lost all tolerance for tight-fitting clothes around the middle. Until the doctors either run out of medical tests or they hit upon the correct answer to what's making me so uncomfortable, long flowing tops and super-soft microfiber leggings will be the uniform of the day, every day.
I have no clear horizontal surface large enough to cut fabric on other than the floor. I always hurt when I sit on the floor to this sort of thing, but it can't be avoided if I want to make my own clothes again. I used to do this all the time, back in the salad days when I tried to start a costume design business (and spent more money on fabric than I brought in on costume sales). Even with a 25 year younger body, it hurt to sit on the floor. Today was just miserable. I tried to soak in hot water, but had to cut my relaxation short when Athena ran outside and found out that Barley was over here, being babysat in the yard. Barley learned when he was still a young puppy that Athena has a short temper and long claws. I got her inside with no Band-Aid moments, which was a victory in itself. (She made me bleed when I went to get my computer to write, when she stole my chair and was removed, but she didn't get me or Barley this afternoon.)
Not a one of the cats left me alone while I was on the floor, laying out the pattern I'd made. The worst was Rabbit. She has been frantic for attention today. She has walked on me, swatted at me, clawed my chair, glared, chattered, and poured an epic guilt trip on me. She tried to get me to chase her, by sitting in my open house bag, chewing on the plastic wrappers of the hard candies I had left over from the weekend. She knows she isn't supposed to do that, and she just stared holes through my body when all I did was call her out on it. Almost every day, I think, who are these people who think cats are aloof? They're wrong. Just wrong.
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