Sweet Pea Indeed!

Periodically I need to find new homes for my altered clothing. Since I quit selling stuff, I have trouble figuring out what to do with things I spent days--weeks--months making but just don't wear any more. I don't give things away here any more--too many irritations to do that. I don't auction things off--I don't want to make money from them. I just want them to go to homes where they'll be worn a lot and loved. So when we went to Art Unraveled, I took everything I had that I hadn't been wearing. There were several jackets. One of them I spent a ton of time on and then, once it was finished, realized I didn't like the way it fit and would never wear it. It went to Richard Salley's apprentice:

You can't tell, but there's a ton of stitching and beading on that jacket. Eeeeeee. I spent lots of Sunday evenings at museum lawn concerts last year working on that one.

But I needed to find a home for The Big Stuff, the two aprons I made years ago from a pattern I made from an apron given to me by my friend, Miss Julia, whose mother made it from a pattern she made when she was making habits and aprons for the nuns. Got that?

Whew.

I don't wear them, although I love them. They needed a home with someone who would do both. So I put on one of them and wore it down in the lobby to see if anyone came up and squealed about it.

Here I am trolling for my victim candidate.  I'm talking to Pam Carricker--she's not a candidate, having a much different style, very classic and cool. Like, you know: a grown-up.

Ahoy! Here's a possible candidate. Funky style, very cool.

OK, it's not quite as methodical as all that. This makes me sound like a totally wacko stalker person! In fact, she said she'd been stalking me to find out more about the apron. We were talking because I loved her hair and glasses and jewelry. But the fact that she noticed the apron was definitely a plus. And she lives in Farmington, New Mexico--I lived there once! And my favorite (before they disowned me--I don't even know if they're still alive, alas. My uncle (my mother's brother) refused to see me after I got married, so I haven't seen him in almost 40 years) aunt and uncle lived there, so we spent time there when I was growing up.

And here we get The Squeal. Yay!

The big switch. It was perfect for her:

Now I'm happy:

Sandy is looking at the other apron--pink and orange--with all the cats' names on it and an image of Fat Moe. A cat person! Hooray, again! She got that one, too.

OK. Go meet Sandy here. I've been meaning to write about this ever since we got home, but the time. The time! Where does it go? Then today she posted a comment about having done a review for me, and I went to her blog and read her post about the book. and then, even though I'm supposed to be getting my shoes on to go for a walk (The EGE is out there, waiting for me, for, like, an hour now already), I had to share the story of how we met. You can see her jewelry in her Etsy shop, and here's something else she does that's sooooo cool:

(It's the same guy, completely different on each side. So groovy!)

But you can't buy him, because he's mine!

Thank you, Sandy!