Fashion statement

Who knew my witches would be making such a righteous fashion statement with their spider embellishments? Seems they're all the rage now.

I haven't been here for several days. I'm sure the assumption was that I was on another cruise. I'm not, darn it anyway. I'm here on dry land, doing the finishing touches on my dolls before their big send-off next weekend. I do have a friend who's cruising this week though, so I've been able to cruise vicariously. Let me tell you, it can't hold a candle to the real thing....

Mr. Gadget and I have been re-arranging furniture here in the new place. Mostly we've been juggling end tables. We've also made some progress on decorating the entry way.

The mirror was a Pier One find. The table was purchased at an unfinished furniture store and Mr. G stained it. It's a great spot to display Charlie the scarecrow.....who will be joining his friends at the craft fair this weekend.....unless I decide he should stay put. Once he's out of the house, he may never come back, unless, of course, he needs his laundry done.

In other news, Big City Girl will be coming this weekend for a visit. She will accompany me on Saturday afternoon to the town hall lawn for a scarecrow-making festival. We'll be making one of those big boys with straw filling, and I plan to put him on the front porch. We'll just see what the neighbors say....those neighbors with the puny little store-bought ones sitting on their wrought iron benches. Maybe I'll give him a sling shot and see if he can nab the wicked mum-maiming monster.

The other day I had to make a stop at my doctor's office, and while I was sitting in the waiting room I got to wondering. If they make you sign those privacy statements before they'll even so much as let you get on their scale, then why do they think nothing of letting people spout off, at full volume, about their ailments right there at the reception desk without so much as a glass partition to stick their heads through? I think all doctors' offices should be outfitted with one of those confessionals they have in Catholic churches. I must admit though, I found some of it entertaining. In fact, I even started keeping score. Wow! She's got it much worse than me. Oh, lucky him. If he only knew what I was here for.

Then there was the guy who came in the front door carrying what turned out to be his aunt's specimen jar in a clear plastic bag. My goodness sakes. Doesn't he know that's what they make brown paper lunch bags for?

If I were in charge of making the rules, there a few changes I would make. The first thing I'd do is make it a felony to put those pesky stickers on fruit...