How 'bout them Buffs? Suddenly the phrase I always used to awkwardly redirect conversations is something that actually brings me joy, in four-hour bursts each week. Something magical is happening with those kids, and they are demonstrating talent and coaching like we haven't seen in ages. I've been wishing for an effective offensive line for years, and finally there is one. It's good enough to allow a very special quarterback to connect with a Heisman-quality receiver, and boy have my weekends become fun now. I have enough sides of my life that are raging dumpster fires. It's nice to have a way to escape them once a week. The Buffs are 5-0 now. One more win and they become bowl eligible. Maybe I'll get to travel in late December or early January, or throw a big watch party from home. I enjoy having something to anticipate.
While I listened to the game (and the two hours of pregame that I indulged in), I made significant progress on the costume coat. The pattern was finessed and finished, and my daughter came by for a few minutes to approve the final design (and to get chewed on by Harvey). So I pulled the mock-up apart and cut out the blue fabric. It feels completely different than the muslin. It's heavier and thicker and it hangs so much nicer. I stayed up late tonight to get the bulk of the exterior constructed, so I could assure myself that it will end up exactly how I want it. I'm way too tired to worry about the collar that I was so disappointed in yesterday. I'll wait until I'm rested and fresh tomorrow. And I'll wait until after I drive down to Boulder for more lining fabric. I don't know what I was thinking, only buying two yards of it a month ago. I hope they still have it, so I can get two more yards. Otherwise, I'll have to select something entirely different for the lining. While I'm at the store, I'll grab interfacing and shoulderpads. Yes, shoulderpads. Not for a 1980s look, but for just a little structure.
Athena wanted to help out with sewing. I had to move her away from the moving parts of the sewing machine repeatedly. She wasn't her normal cranky self either. She was desperate to snuggle. So much, in fact, that she sat still in my lap and purred while I used my sewing scissors on a couple of her annual undercoat mats. Normally when one owns a long-haired cat, one brushes them, and in extreme cases, shaves them when the seasons change and the undercoat blows out. Athena is more sensitive to touch than most cats, and any attempts at brushing end in Band-aid moments. But not today. I removed most of the mat that had been under her ear for a month, and had bothered her so much she begged me to scratch underneath it every day. I started on another, but was determined to set her loose before she reached her limit. I found the winning combination. It was a pleasant encounter for all involved.
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