the busy heart

There once was a shirt.  It looked like this: It grew too big for me.  Much too big.  But I liked the pattern so much--look at those delightful, firework-y bursts of white!--that I saved and saved it, thinking I must someday do something with it. Yesterday, I did something.  Before work I took that gathered bottom of the shirt and turned it into the top of a skirt.  This was very exciting.  I used the sleeves to give it a bit more length, at which point I had the following:  [I'm shy about the pictures, so I'm posting the awkward ones ...] Not too bad, eh?  I rather liked how it turned out.  I may have gone a bit crazy adding color, but I'm having way too much fun to tone things down.  The skirt is actually just the top piece.  I also made the little lacey petticoat type skirt over the weekend, which is what's underneath here.  I've been wearing it under skirts and dresses that are just a...

Dear man who stole my iPod: I was getting off the train in Central Square, enjoying a podcast on my iPod, trying to slide it into one of the pockets of my bag, and down it went between the train door and the platform, into The Pit, as I learned it was called. There was that abrupt cease of sound and the tug on my ears that meant it was gone.    A girl just outside the train door looked worried but annoyed, since I was standing with one foot on the train and one foot on the platform, flustered.   “What was that?” she said.   “My iPod,” I said.   And I think then you turned around.   “Your iPod?” you said. The train doors closed and those inside watched me, their faces framed by the windows.   I stepped back for the train to leave, and then found it, just under the overhanging edge, in The Pit. This is what I was thinking: all of those songs.   You don’t get your music back, even if you get a new one.   They tell you to back up your music...