Don’t know what to do on the last day of March?

Well, you watch Firefly all day. That’s what you do. At least, that’s what I’m going to do.

[Inspired by Brigid. After watching the video in her post with so much Jayne, I had to start the series from the beginning. Oh, and if anyone knows where I can find a “Home on the Range Man,” let me know.]

Three Birds

The Birds of a Feather wall hanging is so close to being complete. I have no idea how I’m going to hang it, yet, but I consider that one of those small details I don’t need to think about right now. I’m concentrating on getting the thing quilted. Here’s where I was a few days ago, when I finished applique-ing the top.

The Completed Top

The Completed Top, in Perspective

That picture was taken when I had the top layed (laid? Oy. My brain is guacamole right now.) out on top of batting and backing, just before I basted the layers together. When I get the thing on the wall, I’ll get a better picture… one that’s not in a wacky perspective.
I’ve finished quilting the outline around most of the appliqued elements. I’ve finished the background quilting for the pears and stars. Here’s a pic of the completed pears.
The Pears

The Pears

 

Those orange strings are the basting threads that’ll be removed once the wall hanging is complete.  I’m not going to get the thing finished by my parents’ 40th anniversary in a few day. Argh. But it shouldn’t take more than a week to finish it, so they won’t have to wait long.

OK. I’ve rested my fingers a little. Back to the hoop.

Stay on Target…

I’ve been working like mad to get the Birds of a Feather wall hanging complete. Man, the tips of my first fingers and thumbs are sore from the stitching. Here’s where I was a few days ago.

The top is almost complete!

The top is almost complete!

 

I should get the top completely done tonight. We’ll see. I’ve only got a week until my parents’ 40th anniversary, so I’ve got to quilt this thing in one giant hurry. I’ll post a pic of the completed top later.

It’s about 40″ x 24″. So it shouldn’t take too much time to quilt. Though… I’ve never quilted by hand before. Well, I’ve got a week to learn.

(This is a typical Prudie maneuver…  jump, both feet running, into a large project with a near deadline looming without any prior experience in the craft. Sigh.)

The Special Olympics or Something

The rat bastard.

Until recently, I was disabled. I had the kind of disability that was difficult to bear in public. It was the kind of disability that led me to spend more than a year holed up a house because of the fear of derision and mockery that the disability produced.  It’s only been recently that I’ve been able to leave the house without that gut-twisting fear.

I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t always dress myself. I couldn’t always walk. There were weeks at a time when I couldn’t get out of bed. Just walking to the living room was a treat.

I’m one of the lucky ones. It’s likely that the disability will return, but it’s gone right now. I get some time off. I’m the damned lucky one who gets to live like a normal person for long stretches of time between periods of disability. So I’ve got it easy. Most don’t get that vacation. Most disabled people live a limited life most normal people can’t imagine. And they live it every second.

It takes a special kind of asshole to make fun of people who live with that.

So yeah. I’m upset at Obama’s “gaffe.”  The bastards in the media, the few  reporting it, are calling it a “gaffe.” A gaffe is a social blunder. A gaffe is when you compliment your neighbor’s wife on the prettiness and femininity of her new baby daughter and find out it’s a boy. A gaffe is when you fart in the frozen food aisle. A gaffe is when you mispronounce your new boss’s name at a company picnic.

This was more than a gaffe. This was an insult, aimed at the crotch. Oh, I don’t think he did it deliberately. I think he just made the same kinds of jokes a certain type of ass makes in private. But ol’ Obama was without his teleprompter and he couldn’t self-edit fast enough to catch it.

There will be apologies. Of course. He is, if nothing else, a master at media spin (assuming the media will even cover it) and everyone will make excuses.

But we know, don’t we? We know what he thinks of the disabled. We know how he thinks of them and how casually he mocks them. The bastard. The worst of it is…the same disabled people he mocked mostly voted for him.

Dead Right

I’m not bitter about the November election. I don’t believe in being bitter. And I certainly don’t believe in regret. They’re useless.

But then I read something like this… I admit I feel a slight touch of melancholy for what might have been.

LATER: Romney was always the economic heavy of the GOP presidential contenders. I have to wonder what might have happened had news of the sagging economy hit the public before the Republican primary.

Spilt milk, and all that.

[Via Scott.]