A Quaint Life Store

Friday, April 11, 2014

Shirt Dress



 Step 1) Find a simple dress your little one has out grown.  Find a button own shirt your husband has out grown worn out, or a shirt from the thrift store will do as well.

Step 2)  If there is a pocket on the shirt, carefully remove it with a seam ripper.

Step 3) Lay the shirt down on a flat surface. Lay your little one's dress on top keeping the buttons from the button down shirt centered.  Trace 1 inch wider than the dress all the way around.





Step 4)  I like to us something known as a French
Seam when I sew.   Instead of sewing your garment
right sides together, your going to sew it wrong sides together first.  At this point it is a good idea to try
slipping this over your little one's head to make sure
the hole is big enough.  My first cut wasn't and I did
cut it a little larger.








Step 5) Once you know the dress will fit over your child's head turn right sides together and sew the seam again.  Now all the loose threads that can fray at tucked neatly inside their own casing.






Step 6) Sew the neckline.  This dress was cut closer to the button whole than I was intending, so for the edge I just used a simple overlock stitch. 













Step 7)  Now sew the sides together the same way.















Step 8)  Sew up the arm holes in the same manner that you sewed up the neckline.

Step 9)  Hem the dress.







Step 10)  I couldn't get the pocket on the front of the shirt off entirely with out causing some damage to the fabric.  So I made a flower to cover it up.







Step 11)  Cut a small strip of fabric from a remaining piece of the shirt.  I doesn't have to be perfect.  Clip one side of the fabric with Pinking Shears.










Step 12)  Run a basting stitch along the straight edge side of the fabric.

Step 13) Gently pull the thread, making the fabric gather.






Step 14) Carefully roll the fabric round itself until it looks like a flower.  Clip fabric with Pinking Shears when you've reached the size your want.  Do not cut thread.

Step 15)  Use the same thread and needle to begin sewing the flower together at the bottom to hold it together.  Do not cut thread.










Step 16)  Now, use the same needle and thread and attach the flower to the problem area of your garment.








Step DONE!  And Viola! You have a sweet little dress no one will know barely cost you a dime (unless you go blogging about it.)




Friday, April 4, 2014

Prescription Drugs Vs. City Water

This is not the first time, and it more than likely will not be the last.

Someone being treated for health reasons, receives medication and has a psychotic reaction.  The latest in the line of people to go bonkers and start shooting to kill was on Ambien.  The Colorado shooter was on a generic version of Zoloft. The Moses Lake shooter was on Ritalin.  And the list just goes on and on.

And surely the doctors will claim, "But it's not the medication." Really?  Because none of these people were going around killing others before they took the medication.

I recently had problems with medication my doctor kept insisting that I take.  It drove me to a point where all I could do was cry for hours, feeling only fear and anxiety.  I couldn't do anything to make it stop.  I went into the doctor hoping for answers and help.  Only to be told it was not the medication and that I should see a therapist.  I tried for another week. When I stopped taking the medication, the problem went away.

It doesn't matter what the prescriptions are for any more, they are not always having the desired effect.  My husband took a water quality class in college recently.  Many cities are already using grey water, water that is being re-used from the showers, laundry, toilets of the city, etc.  Don't worry it gets nice and clean.  But there's a huge amount of things they don't test for or take out of the water.  Including prescription or illicit drugs for that matter.  So how much Prozac and Viagra are you taking a day ON TOP of the prescription drugs you are already taking?  Is it any wonder we have more people in this country with psychiatric problems?

Friday, March 28, 2014

Molar Pregnancy, The Surgery

The first part of my story:  There is Such a Thing as Kinda Pregnant

Nothing in my life goes simply.  The same night I had gotten the diagnoses of a Molar Pregnancy there was a SWAT team raiding our neighbors house.  We had heard loud noises outside but had just assumed it the teenagers next door hanging out outside again.  My daughter came and told us there were police cars next door.  Boy was she right, it looked like something right out of the movies.  And from what we know they never found what they were looking for and we have no idea how or why they were turned in in the first place.

The next morning my midwife calls first thing.  She's been amazing through all of this.  I need to go get some blood work done before I go into the doctor that afternoon.  We rush off to do that, it's upstairs (I hate heights) and my blood will be drawn (I hate needles).  It's like God decided to try to help me get over all my phobias at once!  On the way home the lane we need to turn right on is blocked by a wreck.  I had been holding myself together for the most part, but at this I did yell.  "Really?! The house is just a couple of blocks away, I just want to go home!"

So I spend the afternoon still feeling sick knowing I have this lump of ewwe growing inside me making me sick.  I'd been eating tums like it was going out of style.

We finally got to the doctors appointment.  And it felt like being in a whirl wind.  Another ultra sound.  Lots of questions.  Did I have any fevers?  How much had I been throwing up. Oh, and more money that we really didn't have.

My husband had planned ahead knowing things would be tough until the place he worked at brought him back on for the season or he could find a full time job.  Which is really hard to do when your wife is sick and going in for surgery.  So every little bit we had saved up was gone in two days.  Two weeks before Christmas.

We finish at the doctors office and I was sent across the street to get more paper work and tests done.  It was dark by the time we finally got home.

The part the really had me worried was that this surgery was two days before my birthday.  I've been to cemeteries enough to notice a huge pattern on the headstones.  Most people tend to die near their birthday or within a few months.  It's really eerie.  I really didn't want to tempt fate.

I couldn't eat 24 hours before surgery, and I was dreading what would happen.  Every time I didn't eat enough I'd get sick.  How sick was I going to get before getting into the hospital?

I managed to only get sick once, which was almost a nice change.  I remember sitting in that waiting room with my husband.  So many other nervous faces their as well and one person who had a large family in attendance.

I finally get called back.  They had squeezed me in at the end of their day because this was pretty much an emergency.  I got changed and watched as people left from the waiting side of the room to the recovery side of the room.

I was quite nearly overwhelmed by all the people who would be working on me.  I met everyone except the doctor that was overseeing everything.  Everyone was nice and I was on my best behavior.  Because what I really wanted to do was hold up a picture of my four girls nice and close to their faces and let them understand that they better not screw this up or they would have to explain what happened to these four beautiful girls.  And they would have to answer to my nice big (6"4" over 300 lbs., Security Officer, Former Navy) husband.  I figured threatening the people holding the needles and other sharp instruments over my body while I was out probably wasn't the best choice.   Even though the anesthesiologist kept making jokes that he had trained with Michael Jackson's doctor. Yeah, hilarious.

I kissed my husband good-bye as they rolled me off to the operating room.  I tried not to cry as hard as I wanted to.  On the operating side of the doors the nurse handed me one of those caps to put on.  I tried to recite the Lords Prayer, and I couldn't remember it.  That was freaky.

The nurse rolls me into the operating room and they have me get off the
bed I'm on and onto the operating table.  It was surprisingly skinny.  There's no way they could fit my husband on it. And my arms were strapped to side tables, you know, the kind you see in all the execution movies?  I already had an IV in, the anesthesiologist tells me, "Okay this might burn a little."  Okay, I'm ready.  Why is my face burning?

Friday, March 21, 2014

Las Vegas Mormon Fort, Dutch Oven Cooking

In January we had a chance to get out of the house after I had spent so much time being sick and then having a bad reaction to my medication. We went to the Las Vegas Mormon Fort where they were demonstrating dutch oven cooking. I've been cooking in cast iron a long time now, I just had never had the courage to try the dutch oven. The rangers were very nice and patient as we hung around all day. I learned more than I expected and finally gained the courage to try at home. This has become my one of my favorite hobbies, and has helped me as I have continued to recover from my health scare.

Tomorrow there will be an awesome, first time ever Dutch Oven Cook Off at the Fort. The winner gets to go on to compete at a state level competition this next fall. I can't make it, but I encourage any one that can to go over an check it out. You won't regret it!


Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Out of Place or Out of Time?

My girls and I went for a walk to our local charity store to drop off some things we no longer needed.  We loaded up our little red wagon, put the baby in the stroller and headed off.

Now it's odd enough to me that most people don't say hello any more when passing.  Most people won't even make eye contact.  But boy, they certainly had time to gives of us looks as if the circus had come to town.  What you've never seen a mom with four kids and a wagon go for a walk?  Has this really become a rarity?  Hmmm, maybe I can sell tickets.

In this neighborhood people openly wear their pajamas to the grocery store.  I can't decide if mentally I'm still living small town ideals or if society has changed so much this is a very rare occurrence.  I thought we looked more like the 40s when everyone would get together collecting items for the war effort.