In service to her majesty, the dog

 Smooch: The sun is too bright. Close the shades.

 Smooch: I can't see out the window. Open the shades.

Smooch: Maybe you should buy me sunglasses and a visor.

Me: Maybe you should sit elsewhere.

Sunday in the sunroom with Smooch

Riding out the storm

As much as I was hoping the blizzard would bypass the 7MSN, it did not.

The snow started late Saturday morning.

There was nothing left to do but watch it from the snowroom and crochet.

You can build a horse a barn, but you can't make him stand in it. 

What a knucklehead.

You can lead a horse to heated water, but you can't make him drink it.

Yes, I'm talking about you.

This is George the moment he realizes it's feeding time again.

This is Alan the moment the snow starts blowing into his face again.

Fifteen and a half inches of snow fell by Saturday morning,

then it snowed most of Sunday. I elected not to measure it again.

It would only make me worry about how and when I'll be able to get out of here.

I've been trying to keep up with the shoveling so that it doesn't get overwhelming.

Every couple of hours, I clear a path to the barn, scoop poop, feed, water, 

then come back inside to thaw out.

Snowstorms do wonders for my crocheting productivity. 

Auntie Em, your pillow is done and one of these days I'll be able to mail it.

On patrol in the sunroom

At least the sun's out

It rained here all day on Saturday, then snowed all night. 

Then it was Sun-day. Good thing.

 The herd was pretty tired from standing in the barn during all that weather.

The wind left one almost-dry spot in the corral where naps could be taken.

 Lunch was served al fresco to give the stalls a chance to dry out.

This is Johnny's "my feet are wet and I don't like it one bit" face.

 Slabs of snow slid off the roof throughout the day.

 Smooch was fortunate to escape all the avalanches.

Prior to this winter, I've closed off the sunroom from November through February

because it's not heated. This year, I'm leaving it open and building bigger fires

in the woodstove. It's worth the extra wood and effort to be able to 

use my Smooch's favorite space year-round.

This is Johnny's "I hate you for not letting me in the house" face.

A makeover do-over

Back in April, I hauled out my sewing machine and gave the sunroom a makeover.

The new daybed cover has been bothering me ever since. It didn't fit snugly, 

I didn't like my fabric choice, and the imperfections of my handstitched piping 

bugged my perfectionist self to distraction. My makeover needed a do-over.

But first I decided to replace the mattress because it was long past its shelf life. 

In my googling to locate the closest mattress store, 

I found an online mattress sale at wayfair.com that included free shipping.

Buying a mattress online seemed like a ridiculous idea, but for $150, 

I was willing to gamble that it would be good enough for its intended purpose. 

And wouldn't a mattress delivery be an interesting way to get back at 

my highly unreliable UPS man?

Smooch and I sincerely doubted that there was a 10" thick mattress stuffed into that box,

although it was very heavy and I'm sure the UPS man had as much fun lifting it as I did.

It started to expand as soon as I freed it from its vacuum pack.

All I could think of was it better work out because there's no way 

I'd get it back in that box to return it.

Fast forward the 48 hours suggested by the manufacturer for full expansion.

I couldn't be more surprised by how comfortable it is. I definitely give it two thumbs up,

and Smooch would, too, if she had thumbs. I like it so much that when it goes on sale again,

I'll order a full-size version for the guest room...and really piss off the UPS man.

Anyway, with the new mattress in place, the making of a proper box cushion cover commenced. 

I only wish I would have shared my plans in advance 

so someone could have told me I was getting in way over my head.

You don't want to know how many hours it took to get to this moment of truth.

Would it fit?

Score!

Smooch is as excited as I am about our new cover.

It fits snugly, I love the new fabric, and if my perfectionist self 

avoids looking at one particular corner, I can live with it, until I change my mind,

and let's hope that's not anytime soon. I'm sew over this sewing stuff.

A sewing machine

When I announced last week that the sunroom would be getting a makeover, many of you 

were surprised that a) I had a sewing machine and b) I could sew. True story. I used to sew a lot, 

as in made my own clothes when a) I had no money and b) I wore something besides jeans. 

I was never good enough to apply for Project Runway, but I could usually make it work.

Anyway, I can't remember the last time I used my sewing machine, or my iron, 

but the dining room has been turned into a sewing room for the past two weekends. 

Stick a fork in me. I'm finally done.

Smooch was confused by the entire process, as was I for most of the time.

I followed this online tutorial for making a tailored daybed cover.

It was going very well until the "hand stitch the cotton cording to the fabric" part.

I underestimated the time this would take by about 13 hours.

In the end, the effort paid off. 

The indoor/outdoor fabric was easy to work with, and I'm reasonably certain

that the cushion and pillow covers will withstand the sunlight, the dog hair, and the dirt.

Smooch's head is still spinning from my fabric choices, but she'll get over it.

The colors and patterns are bright enough to lighten a rainy, overcast day,

which is the only reason I was able to finish all of this yesterday.

"But what of those feed sacks?" you ask. 

I made this pillow cover last...

... once I'd figured out the piping with zipper thing.

All the previous pillow covers had one or the other.

Pretty sweet.

Put a lid on it

Things that put Smooch on red alert: 

1. Coyotes

2. Snakes

 3. Strange men in the driveway

 Actually, the men aren't all that strange; 

they're the same guys who built the sunroom two years ago.

I've invited them back to add an overhang at the entrance, 

to protect my many guests from the elements as they wait for me to answer the door. 

Not really. I don't have many any guests. But the entrance looked naked, 

and I thought an overhang would be a nice touch.

And since they would be here anyway working on the raise-the-woodstove project,

why not do both jobs at the same time? 

The woodstove project commences today,

adding another item to Smooch's red-alert list: 

4. Strange men in the living room.

Blinded by the light

Spring has sprung, the wind is howling, and there's no place I'd rather escape from the blowing dirt than the sunroom. 

But my first-world problem is the sunroom is too bright in which to do some of my favorite things, 

e.g. reading, computing and streaming videos.

So I finally purchased a set of blinds for the window next to my perch. 

I had been postponing this activity for months, dreading the installation which would involve drilling into stucco, 

making a mess, not having the right stuff to complete the job, several trips to town, etc.

When all was said and done, the installation wasn't too terribly awful ... until I was packing up the trash
and found this big extra piece still in the box. Apparently it's a decorative element to cover up the brackets.
Oh well. Next time you're in my house, feel free to make fun of the exposed brackets because 

I'm not taking the whole damned heavy thing down to snap it in place. Unless, that is, you'd like to help.

For all the moral support she provides, Smooch isn't all that helpful when I need an extra pair of hands,

though she does make a handy stand for the tablet, which I can now see when the blinds are drawn.