Tate is finally asleep, I have too many things to write about; getting boobs, current culture, and secrets. I am going to attempt to tell these three stories in as few words as possible. My ITT professor says the average time a person spends viewing anyones website is about 30 secs so I anm trying to stick to the facts mam, just the facts.
1) Getting Boobs: nearly 20 years ago I made an exodus from my little rented hovel in my 1971 Chevy Impala from Northern Ca. to El Paso TX. Avi was only 2 years old, Wiley was nearly 4. I inheirited 5g"s from my grandfathers' estate. I had met him a few years prior to his death, I was not impressed. I took the money and packed the Chevy with everything that was going; we had no clue where we would end up except there were some other apprentices in the midwifery clinic on the Mexican border who were willing to host us temporarily. I was running away, again. I gave my antique sewing machine to a friend of a friend. Her name is Leslie I think. She said, and I remember as if it was yesterday,"Not your sewing machine, don't give it away. If you ever, ever, want it back, just ask, you can always have it back." It's a heavy machine, it weighs 49 lbs. It wasn't a necessity and if it didn't fit in the car, it wasn't going. I loved that turquois machine. I sewed heavy quilts on it for my babies using old jeans and my one maternity dress for each son. My ex-mother in law gave it to me, she didn't use it. I loved it's weight, it's rhythm, it's smell. Babies sleeping finally, I would stitch together any scraps I could find. It was art and the sound sooothed my soul. I gave it away,another sacrifice.
Sixteen years later, I have a fairly inexpensive Singer. I sell my commercial real eastate in the small Virginia town I operated my hair salon in to my ex"partner", what a looser. I built a salon in my new house, I spent alot of time doing the things I could never find the time to do. I sewed alot. Curtains, clothes, nothing from a pattern ever. I made phone calls, to California. I found Leslie, she still had my old machine. She said she would send it to me, but she didn't. Three more years. August past, Tate and I went to California and Oregon. We went for vacation, I wanted to show him a Redwood tree. We visited family and we had a blast. On the fourth day of our journey from SF to Central Oregon, we landed in Willits Ca. That was my first home with my 2 babies. It was a tiny bungalow, 3/4 mile outside of a rural hippie Ca. town. I miss it alot, or I used to. Anyway, we drove by our old house. I called my old best friend and landlord, Christopher Moore. He acted as if I had just seen him yesterday. I hadn't seen him in 20 years. I called him, "Hey Christopher, this is Stacy"
"I cant find your house."
"Because it's been 20 years since I've been there"
wE TALKED ABOUT THE SEWING MACHINE. hE SAID HE WAS WILLING TO TRY AND HELP RECOVER IT. (Oops)
Tate and I had ground to cover, the Oregon coast, Redwoods, my brother in Oregon, my baby nephew I was finally getting to meet and my 10 year old neice I hadn't seen for 8 years. I left the sewing machine to fate, and to Christopher.
A few days after we returned hiome, I was getting back to the old routine and called Avi. His phone was disconnected. I decided to drive by his hi tech job as a parking lot attendant in Charlottesville to see if he was there and to let him know that I would do what I could to get his phone back on. Always a juggling act, the money thing. Avi wasn't working that morning. I caught sight of a dressmakers' mannekin in the parking lot adjacent to Avi lot. I drove back around through the crowded city streets.
"Hey, whats up with the mannekin?" I asked one of Av's esteemed colleagues.
"I don't know, it's been there for a few days"
I walked over to the mannekin; she was in mint condition and was standing at the service entrance of a hipster student pub. Someone had written "BOOBS" on her chest with a ball point pen.. She was headless and armless for that manner, as all dressmakers' mannekins are.
I followed some young dude, who was obviously suffering with a severe hangover, "What's up with BOOBS?"
"I dunno, been there for a few days now."
"Mind if I take her?"
I put Boobs in the trunk of my tiny car. I took her home. She guards my sewing machine, the old turquois one. I LOVE the way it humms. I LOVE the way it smells!!!
Secrets and Clapton, later. I'm tired.