Which--wow. I think you think I'm much smaller than I am. Those laces are gonna be far far far out, all over my back. But the front will still look good, so that's what counts!

It shouldn't be too bad--it's the same size as the one we put on you at the first F2F, and I could wear it cheerfully as a size 12. (It's the one I wore Saturday night in Chicago.)

Remember that there's supposed to be a gap of a couple of inches in the back.

(It's the one I wore Saturday night in Chicago.)

Now that's a good memory.

heh. Well, I think some of it will depend on how tight I can/will lace it--not very, since I'll be singing. But hopefully a few inches smaller.

(It's very pretty in front, though!! So that's awesome)

Susan,

So, I have two questions:

1. What are the odds it's not my fault?

Pretty good. It's likely coincidental.

2. What are the odds we won't need a new vacuum cleaner?

Hard to tell.

It sounds like something has clogged the beaters. You should be able to (unplug it first!) turn the unit over, look for two tabs the hold the bottom cover on, then once the cover is off, you can see if the beater is blocked, or if the motor that turns the beaters with a belt can be moved.

If it's blocked, see if you can dig or gouge the blockage with an old butter knife or some other implement of destruction.

If the belt is broken, that can be replaced.

Hey All - just skippity skipped a ton of posts, most of the end of the last thread and up to here in this one. I hope all are well.

Thanks, DCJ--I'm glad it's probably not my fault.

DH is going to check the beaters tonight. That's a little too advanced for me. I need to get to where I don't feel like I deserve applause every time I change a toner cartridge without spilling it everywhere or ruining the printer before I start actually taking anything apart.

Hi, Lexine! I think we all managed to pass the New Year's okay. How about you?

When my brother is fully medicated and off drugs, he is the sweetest, funniest guy around.

He told me that when he was carrying a few of the baby's wrapped presents to the car to take to my sister's house for our Christmas celebration, he accidentally activated the sound on one and it said something like, "Don't forget to wash your face!" in a cheery voice.

He stopped for a minute and thought that maybe his schizophrenia medication wasn't quite working right and wondered if they needed to up his dosage.

Then he remembered one of the toys talked.

Oh, Cash, your poor brother! t As I laugh heartlessly at the bewildered expression I'm imagining on his face.

At least he's got a good sense of humor about it. It makes it a little more tragic because of what might have been, but he still makes me smile with his sweetness.