The Interview

Inspired by The Daily Post to write an interview with an inanimate object.  I’m quite sure this isn’t what they had in mind 😉

Eliza Murdock: Welcome back to Around the House.  I know you’re all eager to meet our next guest.  Joining me here today we have that oft’ overlooked item that many people call common, and yet there is nothing ‘common’ about this bright star.  Please join me in a round of applause for Mr. Table Lamp!

Mr Lamp, thank you so much for agreeing to this interview.


EM: From humble beginnings in a small studio apartment, you’ve risen to grace the tables of upscale society.   Why, I hear just last week you sat at the table of a Rockefeller!


EM: Quite an exciting night.


EM: As Shakespeare said, “Watt’s in a name?”  Now that you’re moving up in the world, have you considered changing your name to something more up-to-date with the times?


EM: Don’t fret, I certainly won’t try to twist it out of you.


EM: I hear that there’s a new desk lamp in the neighborhood.  Reports are she’s very flexible.  Any chance of some sparks there?


EM: Keeping it to yourself for now, I see.  Very cheeky.


EM: Which brings up a sad turn in your life.  Not long ago you went through a real dark spell, feeling burnt-out, powerless…


EM: Yeah, it’s always hard when you can’t see that light at the end of the tunnel.


EM: But you took some time off and I have to say, you’ve gone through a real change, you just light up the room when you’re on.


EM: You’re certainly an inspiration, bringing illumination to a problem that not many like to talk about.


EM: Well, what can you say to that, am I right?  But I won’t dwell on that.


EM: So, how many blondes does it take to change your bulb?


EM: Ah, I’m just yankin’ your chain.


EM: I think that’s all the time we have this week.  Thank you so much, Mr. Table Lamp, this has been a truly enlightening interview!

Join us next time on ‘Around The House’, the show that puts the spotlight on the things you use every day.

Barely a week to go

And I still have so much to do!  I can’t post any of my sister’s presents here as she knows about this place and while she may not check between now and then, she might and I’d hate to ruin the surprise!

But I’ll show you all the rest of what I’ve been working on these last weeks.

My cousin’s daughter has started getting into sewing with her grandma so I made her a little needlebook/sewing kit with felt pages, a pocket for buttons and things, and a little case and embroidery scissors:



My nephew is into things like Avatar, the last airbender.  I haven’t finished it yet, but I’m making him a messenger bag to hold books and his DS and other things that he hauls around with him.  Here’s the pocket that I’ll put on either the back or the front under the flap, the four elements and their symbols from the cartoon.


My dear friend got me into using gift bags instead of wrapping paper.  Quite beautiful and reusable.


And my mother’s gift, a choker using my hand-spun/hand-woven yarn, with a cross pendant, some beads, and a celtic knot button closure in the back.  I’m so delighted with the colors!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI’ll post the rest probably after Christmas.

I hope you all have a very warm and bright holiday season.

These are a few of my…

I adore re-writing Christmas carols.   Something about parody just tickles me absolutely pink, and I shamelessly indulge during this time of year.  Unfortunately, it does require a common frame of reference to get most of them, as in this case it relies heavily upon understanding metal corrosion resistant coatings, airline part manufacturing, and Boeing standard colors, but hey, why should that stop me from sharing??

These Are A Few Of My Least Favorite Things

Alodine, anodize, primer, and heat treat
Researching replacements for parts deemed obsolete
Sending out quotes req’s to fabricate springs
These are a few of my least favorite things

MPS redlines ’cause Fred’s being picky
Fig’ring out royalties is always quite tricky
Expedite order and stress that it brings
These are a few of my least favorite things

Color coding
Brain exploding
But now don’t you fret
Is always the safest bet!

Walkin’ Round in Manufacturing

Program sheets, cutting tooling
Fabbing parts can be grueling
We’re on a deadline
To get part designs
Walkin’ round in manufacturing

Every station is busy
The whole place in a tizzy
Conditions are prime
To get overtime
Walkin’ round in manufacturing

In the paint booth we can spray some primer
Then some BMS10-83
But just make sure you are really careful
Cause if it runs it won’t get passed QC

Later on, out in shipping
Get it boxed, time is slipping
We’ll all celebrate
Once it’s in the crate
Walkin’ round in manufacturing

Carol of the Sales

Phones and email
Day-long they wail
As if to say
“We’re here to stay.”
Clients complain
A non-stop rain
Price is too high
Lead time a lie

Already late
Sooth all their ire
As they inquire
Want a ship date
Payments await
Send overnight
Just do it right

Meeting I missed
Client is pissed
So much to do
No time for loo
Quote requests pending
Attachments not sending
Tearing my hair
Out everywhere
I hate, I hate, I hate, phones and email
I hate, I hate, I hate, phones and email

Phones and email
To no avail,
Their blasted rings
And little dings
Need color code
Highlighted, bold
And though I try
They won’t reply

On, on they send
On without end
“Where is our stuff?”
I’ve had enough!
Customers crying,
And we’re all trying
Hard not to swear
Too much to bear
I hate, I hate, I hate, phones and email
I hate, I hate, I hate, phones and email

Phones and email
Phones and email
Phones and email
Phones and email

The Gift

Sigmund paused, one foot still hovering slightly in mid-step. Jaren, the brother in Sigmund’s foster family, had gone ahead to the cafeteria, and Sigmund promised he’d join him there soon, he just hadn’t been ready when Jaren was, having not finished changing from gym class. Now he was half-way to the cafeteria, just being passed by two Seniors.

He cocked his head as he processed what he had just heard. What a fabulous thought, he mused. He wondered why he had not heard of this before, but was glad he had not missed it. He blinked, then ran back to the locker room, leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor as he grabbed a bar of soap and some shampoo.

Jaren was just finishing his lunch when Robert came up and placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning over to whisper in his ear. Jaren let his fork clatter to the plate.

“You’re shittin me.”

Robert shook his head.

“Ah, hell.” Jaren pushed himself up from the table and went jogging towards the courtyard. Shouldering his way through the crowd that had gathered around the center grassy area, he made his way over to where Sigmund was. He approached slowly, giving his best ‘casual’ impression, hands in his pockets.

“Hey, Sig.”

“This is a great idea, Jaren!” he cried, delighted. He had his arms held straight out and his head was tipped back, eyes closed as the rain kissed his skin.

Jaren looked around. “What are you doin’ out here?”

“I overheard some boys saying it looked like there would be showers outside today.”

“Sig, this isn’t… where are your clothes?” he asked, becoming uneasy under the gaze of the amused onlookers. Sig suddenly grabbed for Jaren’s pants, trying to unfasten them despite Jaren’s attempts to keep his pants firmly on.

“Aren’t you going to take your clothes off, too?”

“I hadn’t really planned on it,” Jaren said, not at all enjoying this tug-o-war with his clothes while simultaneously becoming drenched and being stared at by a growing number of onlookers.

“But you have to!” Sig protested. “You can’t get a proper shower with your clothes on.”

“There is no way I’m taking a shower out here, Sig.”

“Oh. That’s too bad,” Sigmund said. He squirted some shampoo on his head. The rain began to pick up and Sigmund stood there, bare-ass naked, lathering up his hair and humming to himself in delight.

Jaren glanced around, scowling at those who were laughing. Something had to be done.

He drew in closer to Sig, his voice dropping. “This… this isn’t what people mean when they talk about showers outside,” he said.

“It isn’t? Oh.” Sigmund looked at his hands, thick with lather from his hair, then back to Jaren. “Why not? They should try it, it’s amazing!”

“Sig,” Jaren tried again, not entirely sure how to address this situation. “It isn’t… considered generally acceptable to run around naked outside.”

“I’m not running,” Sigmund pointed out as he twirled little spikes into his hair.

“No,” Jaren sighed in defeat. “No you aren’t.” Sigmund clearly did not understand what social protocols he was violating. The irony of being the one left attempting to explain them was not lost on Jaren, however. He was the one usually breaking them himself. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, but something about the situation made him feel… sad. Painfully so.

Putting his hands on Sigmund’s shoulders, he drew his mouth up to his ear and breathed, “Please, Siggy. Let me take you inside.”

Sigmund looked at him, studying his face in confusion before replying carefully.

“Alright, Jaren. If… if you say so.”

Jaren pulled off his sweatshirt and wrapped it around Sigmund’s slight frame. Then he picked him up and carried him, promising himself he would be meeting a few of those onlookers in a dark alley some day soon and they’d pay for the sick joy they had taken in this.

Sigmund wrapped his arms around Jaren’s neck and rested his head on his shoulder, shampoo foam dribbling down them both. Once he got Sig back to the locker room, he went and turned on the shower. He needed to get the rest of the soap off him, as well as warm him up. He had felt him shivering the whole way back.

When the water was warm, he gently led Sigmund under the stream, glad he had a change of clothes in his locker.

“That was the most wonderous experience,” Sigmund said, chattering on like an excited three-year-old, in spite of being almost nine. “I think showers are definitely better outside. It was amazing to feel the breeze on my skin, and the rain smelled so good.”

As he continued on, Jaren bent down to clean off the mud that had covered his feet and splattered up his legs. “You should join me next time. You won’t regret it, I promise! It’s like I’ve got a whole new understanding of the world! Like… like someone poured nature all over me!”

Jaren couldn’t help a little smirk. Isn’t that exactly what had happened? He let Sigmund play under the water a bit while he toweled off and changed his clothes. It wasn’t so much that he wished Sigmund hadn’t decided to take a shower in the courtyard, but rather he wished that people hadn’t treated it like the main attraction of a circus freak show. Sigmund wasn’t a ‘scene’ to be oogled and laughed at.

In fact, to be entirely honest, if there hadn’t been a mob of watchers, Jaren might very well have joined in. Sigmund managed to touch that little child-core deep down inside of him that adults learn to lock away – Sixteen was an adult, right? – but that they all secretly wish they could let out. Sigmund’s was on permanent parole, it seemed. He had no idea how to lock it up. With all the issues the he had, it was no wonder that Sig had ended up in foster care.

Half the time Jaren and his family were forced to make sure the kid actually did things like ate and bathed himself, as he had a general tendency to neglect himself to the point of being dangerous, especially when he got focused on something. He would work it to the exclusion of all else until he had decided he was finished, unless forced to stop. And then things like this where he heard something that got all twisted around in that head of his and ended up coming out three kinds of sideways and had resulted more than once in Sig getting bead up.

Jaren remembered asking Santa for a little brother when he had been younger. He found himself wishing sometimes that Santa had lost that letter. But there was something about Sig that made him never really mean that. It wasn’t so much that Sigmund was retarded, though that’s how people often described the kid. More like his grasp on reality was tenuous at best. He seemed to live in a state of disconnect from not only everything around him, but quite often himself. He likely suffered from ADHD, though even that was putting it mildly. And he suffered from hallucinations that made Jaren’s skin crawl at times. And sometimes he thought that when the lights went out at night the whole world disappeared except for them.

But then he’d put on that smile and call Jaren his big brother and wrap him in a hug, and it was like getting the best present ever. Maybe his family had taken Sigmund in when he had nowhere to go but to a state institution, but to Jaren, Sigmund was the gift.


No really, nothing.

Okay, one thing: new wool came in the mail!  From my friend’s Navajo Churro sheep, hand dyed using natural dyes  (indigo, tumeric, etc) and hand carded, so soft and fluffy!  I can’t wait to get my fingers into spinning this.

Also, I’m writing a story for a silly contest, which I’ll post once the contest is over.  The prompt is “epic last words” and whatever scene is required to put them in context.  I’ve had an idea for a while which I think I will use for this purpose.

Also, also… it’s snowing on my dash.  This makes me giggle far more than it should, I’m sure.

Lastly, the most sucky thing about being sick this weekend is I had three whole days wasted on coughing and nursing a horrific sinus headache.  I didn’t get any writing, spinning, weaving, painting or sewing done.  In other words, we are now three days closer to Christmas and I’m three days further behind in what needs to be done.

Evan, I’m totally blaming you for this!  >:[  (<- this is my most seriously displeased face)

However, thanks to having lived on it for the last three days, I think I will do my ode to tea entry soon…