Green Keyhole Dress and Aracnophobia
The 70s will be making a plethora of appearances this week.
Today’s project began looking like this.
I don’t really know how else to describe the print except as a bunch of little keyholes. I love it!
At first I was going to make this dress into a blouse, but an idea came to me for a dress.
The material was very wrinkly, so my first step was to iron the dress.
I created a little black stretch knit insert to go at the waist.
I think I’m going to take the sleeves up some more at the shoulders (making the sleeves a little bit snugger in the process as well), as shown in the following pictures.
I may also take it in a bit on each side, and move the waist band up a couple inches on the bodice portion to make it less blousy.
In other news, I wore my “I Love the 80s Dress” this weekend with a cardigan to dinner in San Diego (sorry no picture). My husband needed to go to San Diego for business this weekend, and I went with him. We “Pricelined” a hotel, and ended up getting a room in a 4-star resort for a really low rate.
The room was huge, and we had our own little lawn, haha.
As usual, I couldn’t stay in a place like this without having an exceedingly embarrassing moment.
I was sitting outside reading a book, and somehow my mind played a trick on me.
The roots of the trees looked snake-like, and even though I noted that as soon as I walked outside, and made a point to log it in my memory, I was soon engrossed in my book and no longer thinking about my surroundings.
Along came a spider. I’m afraid of spiders.
Well, that’s a gross understatement…I’m terrified of them. See the note at the end of this post for a very entertaining story about my fear of spiders.
Anyway, it crawled on me.
My brain failed me.
My eyes deceived me.
In my head, out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the snake-like tree roots moving. At the same time, the dainty little taps of the tiny spider on my arm were illogically equated to a snake’s tongue.
I threw my book in the air, leapt from the Adirondack chair and shimmied around in the grass, attempting to remove the slithering trespasser from me. Then I realized it was only a little spider, still frightening, but slightly less so.
Oh, and that’s not the worst of it. Just In case you were wondering: yes, somebody did see me.
Spider story note: Do not read unless you think the irrational fear of spiders is entertaining.
This story is a glimpse of what happens when you have a fear of spiders and live in northern Idaho. There will be epic battles between you and man-eating spiders.
One morning I was getting ready for the early shift at the grocery store. I didn’t turn the lights on when getting dressed, because the light in our bedroom was way too bright for that ungodly hour of the morning.
After dressing, I made my way to the kitchen. As I flipped on the light, I could feel something scrambling across my chest. I looked down at the same time that the kitchen was illuminated and saw a large, brown, hairy spider.
Not even a second passed between the moment I felt and reacted to this monster.
*Cue slow-mo clip of my hand laying into the spider, while my face contorts into a scream of unhinged terror.*
Despite how quickly everything came to pass, I could still see all of his eyes looking at me with smug satisfaction. (OK, so he was probably more scared of me than I was of him.)
The spider made a clunk sound when he hit the wall and its legs made tiny thud sounds as he scrambled to get to a dark hiding place. He actually made audible sounds while walking around on the counter. I think that proves he was big enough to warrant an exaggerated reaction.
Immediately after my shriek, my husband ran in thinking that I was getting murdered. He asked me later why I had screamed like that. I assured him that I had no control over what I did, or what sounds issued from me. Irrational fears are just that: irrational.
My husband took care of the spider (For those who believe in never killing a living thing, this means he trapped it and lovingly sent it back into the wild. But for those who don’t like creepy, crawly insects, this means he made sure the spider would never be back to terrorize me.).
Upon closer inspection of the perpetrator, he was bigger than a quarter, with long, fuzzy legs. So, I feel I was justified in being frightened by something that size crawling on me, even if I woke the neighborhood up at 5 a.m.