Friday, November 30, 2012

31 Days/Workouts of December

So I am just putting out a quick note - such as this is - logging it-

I'd like to acheive 31 workouts for the month of December, one for each day.

If I double up on a day, I can take a day off [say, I dunno, Christmas??]

I'm not trying to lose weight necessarily - I'm not training for a race - just logging the time.

I just realized I get SO nervous around the holidays, and there is SO much going on, that I often sabotage myself and New Year's comes around and I've usually negated any progress I've made over the year.

I'm not going to be too hard on myself - I've worked out since the half-marathon and Zane's Run- but not much.

I've actually lost weight since I stopped running.

Must be the new running shoes I bought. Spending money is always more effective at losing weight than working out, right? My gym membership pays for itself.

I tend to find my tri skills are still improving year after year - even though I slack off in the winter.  

So this is just - because I can. And it couldn't hurt.

[And because I have so much time this month!?]

It won't sound like much to some, and it may sound like a lot to others, but it's where I'm at right now. I need a short term goal to get me through the month. I already did my first workout this morning! I may have done some punches a la Rocky on the treadmill, but these are the joys of being a crazy lady in the comforts of your own underground lair.

I put it out to my hubby yesterday morning first, so we came up with a ground rule that  
1 workout = 30 minutes. I offered 300 cals, but that seemed too ambitious to him. But this wasn't:

So who's with me? Do you NOT have 30 minutes a day to eek out for yourself?  

The Worst or Best Santa photo ever

I really don't know why we haven't gotten syndication on this one yet.

I have twins, remember?

Sorry. Twyns.

Ha. When I wrote that, auto-correct made it Tetons.

I wish I had Tetons! I've never been out West, really.


Anyways, they tend to egg each other on...their moods can be easily misdirected in nanoseconds... I'll let the photos speak for themselves.

First Christmas: We got an early Christmas present. Or two. *Two* little Christmas miracles. We spent the majority of our day [and night] at the NICU.

Second Christmas: blissfully ignorant.

I've discussed this one before. [tights for boys? ETSY, much?]

Third Christmas: My mother-in-law is actually partly to blame. She and I were determined to get the photo, even though the kids were still super tired from their birthday party the day before. Daddy was parking the car and was nowhere to be found [this was the weekend before Christmas at the Mall, after all...] The kids were freaking out. She suggested just sticking them in Santa's lap anyways. So this happened.

Yes, I bought the pic. I'm all about photo documentation so as to destroy any future wistful nostalgia. 

I'll give you a minute to scroll up and check out that photo again. It's a winner.

Fourth Christmas: the little girl wasn't having it. She remembered traumas past.
Little boy actually gave us a repeat performance of this for Easter.

He's such a mama's good boy.

And now, on my Fifth Christmas as a parent, amazingly, or as some may say, miraculously, this occurred yesterday:

Santa Success!

This guy was actually into talking to the kids and asking them what they wanted, etc, rather than just snapping a photo.

I love [this] Santa. 

Happy Photo-Days!

[go ahead and scroll back up. It's a keeper.]

[Oh - is it the BEST, or the WORST?]

[I meant to ask that to elicit comments.]



Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Milk Wars III: Revenge of the Syrup

Y'all remember the Revolution???
(Parts 1 and 2)

There has been a development. 

I had given up.

But the force is still strong with the Emperor, apparently. 

The Empire may now be winning.

Here's how it happened.


My parents drink martinis.

My oldest nephew hoses the milk (otherwise, we never have milk in the house anymore.)

After all the guests left, this fam of four was enjoying a leisurely morning afternoon.

The little girl asks for a special drink, remembering helping Grandpa mix the martinis. 

She asks for one. One for her. 

 [she loves the olives.]

[no, really.]

Daddy (hubby/emperor) says, 
"how about a strawberry milkshake?" [cue Nestle syrup, which has been sitting in the cupboard since the great milk battles of August '12]
she nods.
"in a special, pink glass?" [cue adult-sized, pink-hued acrylic tumbler, which was also involved in the August-Sept battles]
oh, only Daddy treats me this way.

Daddy tries the blender. It breaks. [calamities r us]

Daddy sees the martini shaker, on the counter, newly cleaned from the holiday. He hams it up. He shakes it up. He pours.


Notice she is wearing one of my new pieces from the Princess Leia Collection at Twynmawrmom's ETSY shop...[just released today!]

Little boy, not wanting to be left out, wants to know what boys drink, when girls drink strawberry milkshakes. Don't call the gender police.

We tell him chocolate, of course! 

He wants it...

He gets it...



Three days later, we are still drinking "my chocolate milk" and "my strawberry milk", extra especially shaken, just for them. I'm back at the Swiss Farms again. I'm quietly giving myself high-fives. [I may have thanked the hubby in a special way.]

007 meet Princess Leia.

Revenge is sweet. 

and syrupy.

Monday, November 26, 2012

Land of Nod Ikea Hack

$139 for $17.49!

There's this great group/site called Ikea Hacker that hubby and I have followed for awhile. We, too, enjoy grabbing items at Ikea and using them to build something grander. 

No, I can't think of any we have done in the past right now...

But I did see this cute canopy on Land of Nod for $139 a few months ago...

And then I saw this little "canopy top" at Ikea for a whopping $9.99...

And I remembered I had some old blue striped fabric lying around [hoarder]...
[you could get some at Ikea for less than $3/yard!]

Quick & Dirty: 
  • I used 2 1/3 yards (84") x 54" wide fabric.
  • Thus, each panel is 42" wide (along the canopy) x 54" high.
  • I hemmed the bottom an inch, 
  • I attached the top underneath the line of multi-colored "pennants",


Playhouse/Puppet Theater/Hideaway for the newly refinished basement! 

Play away, away.

I'm actually going to get started on some 24 x 24 cushions 
for the floor area underneath it next.

I found a great pattern from this magazine for 'box cushions', and now I'm obsessed that floor pillows cannot be simply pillows, but rather, must be box pillows...

Scourging the Cyber Monday sales for the box cushion fill pillow...

Cuz you know, I don't need the fabric to cover it. 

Sunday, November 25, 2012

I'll call them from November 25 to February 17.

I don't know why I wanted to see What to Expect When You're Expecting this weekend.  I should stay away from any pregnancy and childbirth movies for the next few months. [awful movie by the way, not funny!]

I love that scene in Meet the Parents when Ben Stiller's character gets a call from his mom reliving his birth. Or is it Billy Crystal's mom in City Slickers? Doesn't matter. You're not going to remember. How does this relate to me. Let's stick to the important stuff.

I'm calling both my babies, every day from November 25th to February 17th, for the rest of their lives. That's the time from when I started bedrest, to when they were both actually home.

I get very nostalgic this time of year and a bit depressed, reliving those times. I was very scared.


Don't get me wrong- we are incredibly blessed and lucky to have two beautiful and healthy children now, but our story is anything but normal. It wouldn't even make a good screenplay; it's too unbelievable.

That's why I'm going to have to bore you with it. Probably in many parts. And them, for as long as I can pick up the phone, or telepathically transmit it to them. Whatever technology they develop next...

Two days before Thanksgiving 2008, we were having our weekly sonogram and then preparing to head to New York to be with our families. Hubby had already been commuting to Philly for months, Monday through Friday. On this week, he stayed home in D.C., hit the sono with me, and then all Hell broke loose. 

Two weeks prior at week 23, we had gotten news that Baby A may be experiencing Intra-uterine growth restriction, or IUGR. The baby's torso was not in proportion to the rest of the baby's body according to their measurements. 

This was week 25. And the situation was looking worse. To add to the IUGR, it looked like Baby A had low fluid, and was not growing. The Perinatologist wanted Baby A up to 1 pound, pronto

Hence the news: BEDREST. 
"So I can't go to New York to be with my family?" I started to tear up.
"I'll let you travel; but you cannot drive. And you MUST. STAY OFF. YOUR FEET." 
Hubby and I looked at each other. We've never been so terrified. We were Googling it all the time: survival rates by week of gestation. We needed to get to 32. 30, at least. 28, maybe. But 25, no

2009 babies were our goal.

Hubby took action, and told me the plan. We were going to go straight home, pack a quick bag, and drive to Philly, where he would drop me off on the train to my mother's. Platform to platform, I would be taken care of. He had to work for two more days, and she would take care of me. 

Scared and tenuous, we followed the plan. I remember sitting next to a woman who was knitting the entire time. I told her half the story; she sympathized. I tried not to cry. I reached my mom's house and was directed to the couch. Where I stayed. For the entire. Weekend. No trip to hubby's family's house for dessert; no helping my mom with the trimmings; not much sleeping; mentally listing the things I would no longer be able to do: application deadline at my admissions job; audition scheduling; walking/swimming; packing up our condo; shopping for Philly real estate; cooking my own meals... But what I could do was receive a lot of hugs. And belly rubs. And sweet moments. 

We got through that week. 

Hubby drove me home on Sunday and came up with the next plan: he'd stick around for the next sonogram, and then the grandmothers-to-be would take turns staying with me for a week at a time, until we got. through. this. pregnancy. 

Hopefully, to 2009. 

Maybe, to 34 weeks. 

But hopefully, to 2009.

That was my Thanksgiving weekend, 2008. 

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Suspended Animation

Why is it.

That when you are vacuuming.

If there are other people in the room,

they just kind of stare at you, mesmerized by the whirring of the vacuum, completely incapable of moving an inch, much less, moving a chair?

And why

when you are pulling out say, a turkey, from the fridge,

or putting say, a turkey, into the oven,

the same mesmerized frozen-in-time effect is felt throughout the immediate vicinity of said event?

This goes double for when

you and a co-customer are each merrily pushing your grocery carts down the aisle until,

a clerk is stuck in the middle of you, re-stocking a shelf, and blocking half the aisle?

No one can move.

Who is going to go first. 

Was that my latte, or yours? 

Why don't we just. SPEAK. to each other. 

Does this phenomenon happen in the animal kingdom as well? 

Do birds watch other birds furiously feather their nests, and just sit on a nearby fence, completely immobile, eyes bugged out, wings stiff, breath frozen, brains clear? 

Oh. Maybe this is where the term birdbrain comes from.

Or maybe where bird watching came from.

Anywhoo, quit. it.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

No. No. NO. That's not how you sell.

Customer service is real people.

It's real. And it's about people. 

I think I have actually been working in customer service my whole life.

Pizza girl
Exec Asst
College Admissions/Recruiter

And now? I'm in the ULTIMATE customer service role. Jeez, louise. Can these kids get it any better? Fast, efficient, top tier service in the zenith of luxury resorts : their own. Bitches.

That's right, I said bitches.

Sometimes, customers are bitches. You can say whatever you want about them in the walk-in freezer [pizza joint], but you still have to serve them. 

I can't really disclose too many details, but I was working with someone very recently who, basically, failed customer service 101: make the customer wait for the product and/or put the onus on the customer to secure the process by which they receive said product. Hello?

If you owned a store that sold your own goods, would you not walk them to the product they desire, and teach them how to check out/purchase said good?

And hey...just curious...if this customer is one of only a few in the store, would you not make sure they walked out of the store with exactly what they wanted, when they wanted it?? Is this not VERY possible?!?

Doing business online, customers get SUPER bitchy.

But guess what? We live in the walk-in freezer. We can curse, wave our arms, kick a door...and still make the sale go smoothly.

I have experienced eBay on both sides...craigslist on both sides...and a few other merchants from both sides..and I gotta say: customers forget you are a real person, too.

But ETSY....ah....ETSY...

It's like being in a super luxury mall where everything is carefully handmade, the sellers want to share all their hearts' desires and best practices with each other, and buyers just walk around, dream up products, and when it is presented to them, they just click on it and buy.

My conversations with prospective buyers come on an app in the form of text messages.

When I make a sale, my phone makes a "CHA-CHING" noise, anywhere...

I luurve the cha-ching. Of course I would. Why wouldn't Etsy want me to love the sound to motivate me to use the app to motivate me to make the sale to motivate me to make a good that is attractive to buyers? Smart! Good business. Good customer service, when your sellers are the customers, too.

I can conduct business like I've never conducted business.

And even though I'm never in verbal contact with anyone, least of all ETSY, I feel it's the best customer service I've ever received as a member, and given as a seller.

It could not. be. any. easier.

And yet! I had never bought anything off of ETSY. I've been missing out!

And so my friends, as you drool in anticipation over Black Friday ... and prepare for Cyber Monday ... consider your local, small businesses...and remember...they exist online, too! 

And please - for the love of all things - do NOT shop on Thursday. IS NOTHING SACRED??? I can't believe they are starting this sh**.

This weekend enjoy free shipping at my shop by using the code SUPERTHANKS

Sunday, November 18, 2012

And now, even the puppet shows make me weep

The Please Touch Museum, aka, "please get sick museum" according to my neighbor, who as a working mom, probably only has experienced it on a busy Saturday, is my Mommy Mecca.

My kids walk in like they own the place.

  And I couldn't be happier. It is a wonderful play-place and learning environment.

{It's the Philadelphia's Children Museum, in case you didn't know, and it's located in Fairmount Park, which is a large expanse of public-use green and arts space. If you are visiting the Philadelphia area with kids, you could even combine a visit with a trip to the Zoo. They are right next to each other, and both really worth seeing! The Philly Zoo is toted as 'the nation's first' and although parking is abysmal, they are working to improve it and that's really my only complaint.}

We've partly grown up there! It was probably the first kids place we visited in Philadelphia, when we had our first guests visiting. We joined immediately and we haven't let that membership run out since!

Friday when we went I was particularly emotional. You see, there are several areas that are designated as "Three and under" - a wonderful feature of the museum. Imagine running after two 18-month-olds all day and then arriving at a vast, soft, interactive and stimulating environment that is actually closed off to older kids and guarded for extra safety.
[I have a pic of them on these 'books' from that era... Now where is it...? Lost with my emotional control...]
Obviously, accidents happen [how many times have I lost one of them there?], but as a stay-at-home-mom, we are usually there when it is less crowded.
I used to have a strategy of arriving around open at 9 or 9:30, pushing the limits to lunchtime at 12-ish, then allowing the kids to hit the carousel before crashing, melting, and burning into the car in time for naps.
And once we gave up naps altogether? We run errands, or go to camp, preschool, etc, and then hit the Museum after lunch. The place is entirely ours. I can keep tabs on each of them even when they want to split either side of the lobby. The "End of the Day Parade" guy knows our drumming preferences.
It took us until year 3 to discover the "End of the Day" Parade
There is a craft room to get dirty. My kids painted there for the first time. The same week, someone in the next neighborhood over was throwing away a double-sided easel. My two little artists were born!

These masterpieces are hanging in my living room. Seriously. 
I keep meaning to hang these photos next to them since I can't believe I actually have both!

So back to the under 3 area...sniff...can't even...get this out...they are going to be...


and I...can't deny... it any longer ... since the PTM makes a certain 'growing up' distinction and I...I....

[weepy, sobby, mess break]

I just love the puppet shows. I really didn't think we were ready to hold our attention on them until we were 2. And even then. I was worried. did! it DID! And...I ... weeped! 

To teach my children the beauty of live theater and entertainment in human, 3-D, form..

to be patient with the dole it out over the 15-20 minute show...

to let them learn that it is a real person providing this message through artistic allegory and metaphor...

Uh! LOVE! 

SO before I get too ahead of myself, I'll just add, my favorite puppet show is coming back. I can't wait to see it again. I had to restrain myself from audibly weeping the first time. Now that I'm approaching the kids 4th birthday, and this happens to coincide, well, just try to stop me from running up and hugging the puppetmaster afterwards. 

I've practically attacked him when I've seen him running around the halls as it is!

But I'm cool. I'm cool. 

Don't worry about Twynmawrmom...

I'll be ... 


[weepy, sobby, mess]
[what am I going to do if/when they go to college!?!]

Friday, November 16, 2012

Surprise! Women are verbal.

I'm sorry to go on about a 10 year old movie [ok 3], but I finished Julie & Julia and this may be my new favorite movie.

And the previous owner of that title has not been unseated since...

when was Tootsie made?

[It's Tootsie.]

Meryl Streep. My. I want her life. No. I want her talent.

It is a Nora Ephron masterpiece - as is her formula - juxtaposing seemingly different lives against and with each other. The world will not be the same without Nora Ephron.

It just means so much - about setting arbitrary goals for yourself that help to guide your passion -

To hold steadfast to your ideas and desires -

To have a wonderful husband who is a Saint but doesn't want to be-

To write out all the goo in your head - 

Speaking of reading and writing, my first CraftFail post is up! Go see it here!

There was even a little moment of infertility struggle - so lovingly set- so real. So subtle.

I'm lacking in so much adult content these days- and even when the hubby and I watch a movie it is so rare to really rock our worlds with meaning - so it was nice to have a good old fashioned tear-jerking - belly - laughing - self- realization/actualization movie to cling to for a morning. 

Or two. 

You know, a chic flick.

Speaking of chicks, I have to mention this amazing product / demo I came across: "Goldieblox." A female engineer was lacking in building toys growing up, and wanted to make some that weren't just pink versions of boy toys. She says in her testimonial that she realized in her research, boys prefer building and girls prefer reading. So, in order to encourage spatial thinking among girls, she combined her building system pieces with a story! 

Of course, I pre-ordered a set for my daughter. It was order #4228, and this woman needs 5000 to make a first pressing. Fun to be a part of something like this, and to follow someone who is trying to get our girls to think 'outside the blox.' 

I do agree, in watching my boy-girl twins, that she would be the one choosing reading at night, while he would love to build with his Magna-tiles into the twilight if we let him. By the way, another great product [and they actually both love them]!
Oh, I didn't start out this post thinking it would qualify as a "Fun for Friday" one, but I guess it did in a way! 

Happy Friday!

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Julie & Julia, & Twynmawrmom

Hubby was trying to make me feel better about my inability to contribute anything useful to the household, and reminded me that on the eve of Hurricane Sandy, he outwardly wished for an apple pie to be baked for him, and I was able to produce one for him in about an hour and a half.
"Who do we know who could have done that?!" he says.
I proceeded to remind him that:
  1. I didn't have an actual lemon so I used a little RealLemon juice, which left a little tang to be desired. [quick & dirty is my way, I do it every f'n day.]
  2. Upon opening the oven and discovering that the rack was on the lowest rung, and my arms full of ready-to-bake pie, I just placed it on the bottom rack, thinking eh - you never know - maybe this would make it better. Layyyyyy-zeee. This meant the juice was not quite jelled up in a stewy goodness before the crust started to burn. So I had to go with the timing of the crust, and the juice remained un-gooed.
So you see class, even in my most recent finest hour, I was both lazy and lackluster in my performance.

After this self-eval I presumed myself worthless enough to drown myself in some cookies and a movie during this week's first preschool break hour.

Even though we've had Julie & Julia in the WD Box for years, hubby never chooses it on our Friday nights together. Go figure. So I turned it on, ready to make a meal for a fellow mommy with a newborn, and oh yeah, that self-pitying batch of cookies.

First of all, any movie that uses "Psycho Killer" in the soundtrack deserves to win an Oscar.

Secondly, I did not know the movie was about blogging. Oh, thank you, universe! For sending me this idea in the nick. of time. She also begins to talk about blogging and mentions she may have A.D.D. This reminds me of the time I first stepped into my house and yelled to my husband from across the house: "SOLD!"

I proceeded to laugh, cry, eye a bottle of wine even though it was 10 am in the morning [hello Julia Child], and burn the first batch of cookies. Good work. Again, I had lazily placed them on the bottom rack [see above apple pie results], they burned on the bottom, and were raw on top. So I transferred them to the top rack, where they completed the burning process.

[when am I going to get off my lazy ass and change that rack before I actually open the oven with something already in my hand?]

Oh, I did that next. 

Nothin' gonna ruin my chicken enchiladas. I'm good at those. Plus, I do not have any more corn tortillas than my predetermined amount. So I'd have to go shopping with children in tow. That's surely going to equal four lollipops and $75 worth of unnecessary food purchases.

So these I managed to deliver only half-baked, but completed, with instructions to continue baking them for, oh, say, 15 minutes?? 


At this point I was able to scrape the not-so-burnt second batch of cookies off the pan in time to deliver to mommy as well.

I look forward to completing the movie in the next couple of years, and, in doing so, achieve some level of improvement in my
  1. cooking
  2. blogging
  3. timing 
  4. atten

Monday, November 12, 2012

Minky you minx

If you start me up, I'll never stop. 
I start quilting season and many times, I don't stop. Especially if I don't have any specific projects in the cue; then I just make sh** up.

OH - and I WON at the shop hop! Ok, it wasn't the Bernina. But I won the Quilter's Dream Batting!! That's a lot of quilts I need to make. That certainly paid for my indulgences  

[or partly. shhhhh.]

So I started with a friend who had a baby girl recently. As part of one of my mom's groups [Lower Merion Mom's Connection], we sign up to make meals for the family in the weeks following the birth. This is also a good opportunity to deliver a little quilt! 

I thought this particular mommy would like the style of this Amy Butler print, so I just wanted to showcase it as much as possible. Professional quilters, hear me, hear me! I would LOVE a pattern for a two-fabric quilt. So often I only buy two matching fabrics in a collection. So send me some!! For this quilt, I just did some simple strip-pieced accents and the monogram. I really should just call myself a "piecer" instead of a quilter.

I also got that good deal on pink minky during the Shop Hop, so I made a matching burp cloth.

 Does anyone else struggle with minky?

Here's my story. My daughter fell in love with a two-sided minky and satin trimmed blankie we got as a baby gift when she was born. As she grew, the blankie didn't, and she refused to sleep with anything else. So I thought- no prob. I'll make her a larger version! So much stretching and pulling and sweating and was a BEAR. The softest f'n bear you've ever met. I guess the hardest part was that it was minky, backed with more minky, and bound with SATIN. The girl knows how to pick 'em. Meanwhile, half the time she still must have "little blankie" to get through the day.

"Dressy Dribbles" is on the original gift; I give credit with my snarky face :b.
I learned my lesson: keep the minky projects small. So I just made a little burp cloth, and surrounded a strip of the minky with the cotton strips. Voila! Snuggly/burp cloth for the fancy babe.
So what are your tricks for minky??

Oh, I'm not done with my quilting update.

I know I am not alone in my quick and dirty quilting - I just found Lazy girl designs and Straight Stitch society. My people! I always say that quilting is one of the easiest ways to start to learn to sew, because you can just sew straight lines. We may never win the prize for most precise, but we get quilts done, gurrrrl.

I also churned out some possible design inspirations for superheroes for girls...

thinking..."Space Girl" = "space to do whatever she chooses"
And...made a "funeral quilt" for a friend?!?! This one was truly Beverly-inspired. I feel I was possessed; probably just didn't know how to help her deal with her grief.  

I matched a non-traditional wonky square side with a traditional courthouse steps [?] side. For some reason, when speaking with my friend about her mother, this is how the inspiration manifested itself. I think functionally, there is no function. Unless you put it on the table with remembrances; maybe a new trend? When I Googled it, it seemed that funeral quilts mostly referred to Quilters who had passed and their quilts being showcased or used at the funeral to drape over the casket and/or decorate the room(s.)

What else? oh yeah, our Quilting Bee charity jelly roll 1600 quilt...

I think that's all I've been able to slopify as of late.


Sunday, November 11, 2012

sUn-edited: A little deflated

I just got kicked off the basement job.

[Yay me!]

Except, it totally f'n PISSES me OFF. 

We are painting, half in prep for hosting Thanksgiving, half continuing our goal of redo-ing each floor in our house in succession. Third year = basement. Hubby just finished the floors yesterday. He started last December. He didn't charge us by the hour, so we can afford his careful, precise ways [mixed in with large absences every quarter]

But after tirelessly sanding, cleaning, and painting trim and closet doors from indigo blue to a cool fig with fancy paint that has built-in primer, I'm pulled. Rookie out. 

Hubby laughs at my paint brush. With the bristles flayed, the handle gooped up with dried paint, the pellets of speckle-ness emanating from it onto the closet doors in this final coat.

I can't help it that I do things the quick & dirty way. 

And my first excuse, is that I'm trying to avoid the carpel tunnel from recurring that I developed after the last time we bought a property and I proceeded to take on all the trim. [cuz I'm shorter?]

So yeah, I paint in a lot of different strokes and try to avoid injury.

It's just that...I know it's not just that. I hate being so careless. I hate doing things last minute, showing up late, throwing lunch together, using ingredients that are close but not exactly half of what I should be, watching my weight 6 5 days of week and giving up on the 7th 6th and 7th, giving gifts that could have been sewn more precisely, wearing the perfect outfit but not having the right boots or belt or matching earrings to the necklace or eyeliner and no mascara or mascara and no eyeshadow or old makeup sponge and no lotion or lotion but no toner or toner but no cotton ball or time for a coffee but no time for gas before it gets empty. 

Why am I like this?

I come from a long line of Singer-sloperators.

You know that convo I had at Steve's Sewing about my Singer sewing machine? Well my grandmother was a professional seamstress, and of course made me whatever my little heart desired for the first 16 years of my life. My mom is also a Singer user. We put it together whatever way we can. And apparently, although I never knew it as a child, grandma coined the term for herself: sloperator.

Oh if you had only told me this sooner! 

I could have gone into demolition.

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