elizabethplaid

A 33-year-old blend of wit and silly, specializing in dolls and crafts. Recent stuff is tagged. 

Wampus is a goddamn little shit. She’s in my lap, as I’m going through my drafted posts, and she reached out her paw… to touch my mouse pad and CLOSE MY DRAFT.

I was on a roll with that one, too. I don’t know if I can retype everything right now. That was gonna be my last draft to work on for now, as I’m getting burned out.

Fricken cats, jeez.

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Gonna try to clear through my drafts and queue some posts. Just so ya know.

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dollsonmain:

thepuppyclub:

I’ll be honest…I don’t want a career. I don’t want to work. I want to be LEFT ALONE and paid for it. 

Buy me staying in my house and not bothering anyone for $8000/day.

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moscowl

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two cats

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I shit you not, Steiff even made a turtle and a ladybug. I haven’t yet researched why they made such a variety of animals.

I always think of the usual Teddy Bears when I think of Steiff… even though I have the turtle, the ladybug, and even Bambi.

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a ramble about sorting - things and feelings

[November 20, 2019; early morning]

Sometimes I panic a bit, when I realize how much stuff I have and how inadequate my display fixtures/areas are.

(This turned into a long-winded info-dump of ~feelings~, so it gets a cut.)

I’m tempted to hang a mesh hammock from the ceiling, at the rate I’m going. I need to get vertical with my storage. Maybe I could put a short shelving unit atop the folding table? Or maybe sorting will be easier without big things in the way (a large horse, fabric box for queenofsquids, bjd box for dollsahoy, etc).

There are 3 huge stuffed animals in the craft room now - like the size of small children. There’s a coyote (and a smaller jackrabbit) by Kamar, but I haven’t looked at the tags of the others.

There’s so much fabric I want to get rid of. So much to unpack. Things of mine I packed before 2013, things I haven’t seen since I moved to Maine in 2005. And that’s not even getting into all of mom’s crafting and costuming hoard, let alone her clothes and jewelry.

Why did I bring back so much stuff from my great-aunt’s stash? Most of the tacky jewelry will go to shiftythrifty people. Other bits will be broken down into parts. I fret that I grabbed pieces with real ivory, though. I couldn’t gather the nerve to ask about the African beaded necklace that hangs on the wall. I had permission to take the “butterfly” wall hanging, but there wasn’t much room in the truck. (Mom made it as a gift, maybe back in the 1970s or 1980s.)

So much to wash - clothes, jewelry, tiny plastic toys. I have a sink-sized bin filled to the brim with MLP, doll house furniture, play kitchen pieces, figurines, that all need to be washed. The baby doll clothes I had washed earlier are still dingy. Some pieces need detergent applied directly, rather than just soaking in soapy water.

I’m overwhelmed at the thought of all these tasks. Logic says to take it bit by bit, but I have that child-of-a-hoarder panic again. Great-aunt J was technically not a hoarder. She was rich and organized, had a big house and no kids. She utilized things as-is. There was no “wasted potential”, like mom’s craft supplies.

I have lots of feelings tangled with memories, after glancing at photos taken during my 1997 visit. I’m in my pretty pink dress, about to go to church or just after we got back. That was the day I lost faith in people and religion. It took me so long to realize what a horrible time in my life that was.

Sometimes I feel sick when I reflect on all the shit these women left behind - the emotional baggage and literal junk. It makes me grateful that we were distant from dad’s side of the family for so long. I’m more appreciative and cautious of these new relationships. I’m not assuming they’ll do what family is allegedly supposed to do, so I won’t be let down.

I’ve talked about these topics before, and I know how to handle them. It’s just that these metaphoric scabs have been picked again. It’s just gotta ooze a little, before I can start to heal back to where I was before. 

I’m very excited about these new treasures and fun things. But I have to admit to myself that they’re a small “reward” for enduring these heartaches. It’s all tangled together.

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Moscow’s turn for love

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Wampus missed me.

We’re home and super tired. Most stuff is put away. Well, put in the craft room, in the laundry, in the fridge (sodas), and in the living room. Still need to get a few things from my backpack and empty my purse. Haven’t touched my duffle bag yet (clothes).

The Sassaby case with jewelry is staying in the kitchen. Tomorrow will be a day of cleaning our new treasures and the house.

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leaving for home - nov16, 2019

I’m soooo burnt out right now! We’re in Indiana, with 2 more days of driving. I have a ton of thoughts about everything that happened, but that’s for later. Brief notes below the cut:

- Took home a ton of my great-aunt’s stuff. (She passed away earlier this year.) Vintage shirts, tacky and pretty jewelry, stuffed animals, family photos (like back to maybe 1870s?). Specifically some rainbow and cat stuff for shiftythrifting folks and a tacky 80s sweater for @koiifished (size large).

- Goodwill yielded a vintage Sassaby case (like Caboodles), which is now stuffed with jewelry and trinkets. There was a Capsule Chix with damaged packaging; missing a shoe, the stand, and one capsule cap. Again, more stuff for shiftythrifting folks to enjoy (potentially to sell/share).

- Target had clothes, a $5 Snapstar (Lola), Barbie clothes.

- Somehow ended up with another vintage toy stove. This one was made in Wisconsin, maybe from the 1930s. It reminds me of this stove, fixed by “Rescue & Restore” on youtube, though not exact. This one on ebay is almost exact, except for some small details; mine is also missing its electric cord.

– Now I seem to have 3 toy stoves (my great-aunt’s, a Wolverine rescued by Aunt-A, and the Wolverine set my mom bought on ebay), but I assure you I am NOT collecting toy stoves.

— Speaking of which, we got to watch some 8mm home movies. One reel had footage of my mom (about 3 years old), playing with her Wolverine kitchen set. That one was silver, and the ebay set is brown. I can’t remember if mom mentioned having it as a kid. She talked more about parting with her original Barbies and regretting it.

- It’ll probably be another week before I might start interacting with tumblr again, after we get home. Lots of things to organize and photograph, plus I’m really burnt out. Lots of stressing memories, but also some good experiences. I need time to re-balance myself.

Love you all. <3

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final notes, before the trip

Friends-giving was fine, but I was super stressed out. I made a pissy remark to the host (well, the host’s husband) as I left, because I couldn’t hold my tongue. I don’t know how much he heard, as I said it while storming out to the car, to leave.

I nearly had a panic attack from all the noise and crowd. I was gonna sit on their back porch, but their huge turkey (named Henry) was roosting right outside the door. Neighbor-S said he wouldn’t hurt me, so I went out and chilled. Every so often, Henry would make a very loud GOBBLE!!! sound. That’s so terrifying to hear as you’re half-asleep, all alone on the cold deck.

Sadly, I forgot to grab leftover cookies on my way out. I was too upset, and I nearly cried. I fret I will now have nightmares about that turkey. He was so large.

We’re leaving around 7am; it’s almost 1am right now. I’m still concerned that my anxiety hasn’t completely recovered from the last trip. And tonight really didn’t help things. So I’m still procrastinating packing.

Maybe I’ll be better able to interact with tumblr after I return. Gotta hope, at least.

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I’m fighting some irrational fears, regarding my upcoming trip to WI, and I’ve figured out my survival strategy: Pretend I’m in a Hallmark Channel cheesy-romance holiday movie.

I’m visiting far-away relatives, in their charming-but-not-too-small town. I’m single and in my 30s. Older female relative has passed away, so surviving male-spouse gently encourages me to be more social. “We got married pretty late, but it was worth the wait,” he might say. (She was like 36ish, but he was younger.) I roll my eyes, feeling very firm about my aloof [hermit] lifestyle.

And there’s some sort of “pay off” reward I’ll get if I suck it up and make nice for awhile. That reward is… eating at chain restaurants that we don’t have in rural Maine. Totally hitting up Sonic, Perkins, and Cracker Barrel, to say the least! 

Modern problems, modern solutions, and all that.

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elizabethplaid:

s4e6 - Princess Scorpia

Baby Scorpia! I had to pause my binging to share this cute image.

s4e8 - Boys’ Night Out

A closer view, without snoring.

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s4e6 - Princess Scorpia

Baby Scorpia! I had to pause my binging to share this cute image.

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quick note, nov7,2019

Why is thicc cat getting reblogged again lately?

Not much has changed from what I noted on Sunday. I’m procrastinating preparing for the next road trip, of course. I need to at least update my mp3 player, add better music.

I have weird feelings about this trip. Maybe I need more rest, after social overload of the last trip. Maybe it’s irrational fears, lingering from ghosts that are long dead. Family does that; it creates ghosts. Part of me died when I saw how I wouldn’t be accepted. And I can’t forgive that, not yet.

I’m still very distant about analyzing my feelings and recent events. Just not ready yet. I’ll be okay. I’m in a good place, otherwise.

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back in my day slime was called silly putty and you used it to copy pencil drawings

I’m with @neonkewpie. My slime was called Flubber, and you squish it into the container to make fart sounds.

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shiftythrifting:

cat lady manifesto

Here’s the text, with some spelling corrected. (I can’t tell how the punctuation is supposed to go.)

Some houses try to hide the fact
that little furballs shelter there.
Ours boasts it quiet openly,
the signs are everywhere.
From nose smears on the windows,
to little paw smudges on the glass tables.
I should apologize I guess,
for toys strewn on the floor.
I sat down with my little furry children, and played.
And if the doorbell doesn’t shine, their eyes will
shine instead.
And the sound of their purr will warm your heart.
For when I’m forced to choose, one job or the other
It’s good to be a housewife,
But I’d rather be PUMPKINS mother!

1992     Love, Mouse

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1728 Florence Ave, New Albany, IN 47150
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morning note, before sleep (nov3, 2019)

After my NH-VT trip, I was super tired for at least 3 days. Then the anxiety-shakes started, on and off. Lately, my ASMR-listening time has been plagued by hypnic jerks and other weird sensations.

This upcoming week includes a doctor’s appointment, voting, Friends-giving, and then heading to WI. First 2 are mandatory; second 2 are flexible, but I still really wanna do them. Other than voting, I will get immediate rewards for my participation. (It’s just road construction bonds on the ballot this year.)

I’m gonna push myself in short bursts, in strategic ways. I will take my laptop with me on my trip, but I’m gonna skip keeping up with tumblr. We’ll be taking photos, and I’ll definitely need chill-out time with computer games in the evenings.

So if you don’t hear much out of me for awhile, it’s because I’m pushing through as best I can. And you’re always welcome to send me messages privately. (If you’re a new follower, it’s okay if you’d prefer to browse elsewhere. I won’t be hurt.)

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alphacrone:

girls don’t like boys, girls like the pastoral escapist fantasy of living in a large house with many friends and several pets on a beautiful chunk of land with no financial, political, or medical anxieties. also, bread. 

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