Friday Flotsam

F  a a  a  a   a a a  a a    a a      a riday.

Have you guys seen VOYEUR?

Ohmgud.

It’s all I can think about.

Listen. This (married!!??!?!) pervo man buys a motel in Denver back in the ’60s for the primary reason of watching his guests do you know what, through a little vent in each room’s ceiling. FOR THIRTY YEARS. It is insane. And this journalist from New York, Gay Talese, sort of befriends him back in 1980 because pervo REACHES OUT TO HIM, and is all, “You should do a story on me. I’m a voyeur. I watch people and I’m fine and normal and my wife knows about it and she’s fine and normal.”

Cuckoo. You have to watch it.

And then all these things happen as the story evolves (like a murder! or was it?) and all these dates are off and a book is written and the fact checkers scratch their heads and you’re like, HONEY GET THE SILLY PUTTY WE’RE SEALING UP OUR VENTS.

Nutso. You have to watch it.

AND THEN the book is released and pervo freaks out about it. Uhhhh HE WANTED THE STORY.

Bananas. You have to watch it.

Then seal up all the vents in your home.

If you do watch it, help me figure out who pervo’s voice sounds like. He has the EXACT same vocal tone as some famous person, but I can’t figure it out. And it’s driving me to the bats. Clearly I have too much mental space.

Okay so where are you with your shopping?! I’d say I’m about 75% done. I think.

Are you making any handmade gifts this year? If so, tell me what they are! A few years ago I made little at-home spa packages for all the ladies in my family. Like, a bath salt, homemade lotion, some candles, a body spray, yadda yadda yadda. But I need inspo for more handmade/homemade ish.

WHICH REMINDS ME, I still need to find a frame for my dried zinnia project that I started back in 1954.

You know what tiny life pleasure gives me so much joy? When you stick a straw in the tops of each salt dough ornie (<–sorry) to make the hole, and then you put the straw in your mouth and blow the tiny chunk of dough into the sink.

That thud.

The air in the straw that follows the thud.

The tiny sound of release in the straw behind the air that follows the thud. Ahhhhh. I love that.

Please don’t send me to a mental hospital.

(That recipe? ^^^ 2 cups flour + 1 cup warm water + 1 cup salt + 3 Tbs. turmeric. 200 degrees for four hours. Of course you can swap in cinnamon for the turmeric for a more festive scent. But I’m a sucker for all things mustard yellow. And sealing up my vents.)

You guys, I keep forgetting to move Paddey the elf. You all said I’d forget, and I’m forgetting! You called it. You warned me. Hold on, I’m going to go move him right now.

Hold on.

Okay, just put him in the freezer. He should be okay in there until 2089, ya think?

Weekend plans?

We’ve got a one-year old’s birthday party tonight (I’m bringing wine because that’s normal.), and I feel like the rest of the weekend is pretty open! Which is good because I still need to seal up our vents.

I plan on making more of the little beads in the vintage metal ornaments that you bake. I made two last week, and I didn’t realize how MUCH the beads shrink up! They shrink up, big time. You’re like, you need a shrink big time.

But I can promise you this, as far as crafting goes, I won’t be making THESE AGAIN. Hayell naw. You know what, don’t even click that link. It will take you to a dark time in my life that I’d rather not revisit.

Okay, now where did I put that silly putty…