Posted by: aauntiem | May 13, 2010

The Pioneer Woman Saga, Chapter Numero Uno

When Ree first posted that she would be coming to Orlando, Jay and I danced, screamed, planned, and wrote her comments detailing all the best sushi places in town. After the initial “shutrightup…no, you shutrightup” of her coming to town had worn off (say a week later) Jay and I started scheming about what to bring our favorite rancher-wife blogger.

Most of the initial genius of this plan was hatched on our two porches:

“Gee, Jay what are we going to do tonight?”

“The same thing we do every night, M—Try to take over the world.”

Operation Take Pioneer Woman by Storm, Phase I:

We decided to joojuz (define: to fluff and re-settle in an attempt to add volume, as in to joojuz hair)  up an apron.

We both thought, PW gets awesome sirces (our word for a gift given just because you were thinking about someone). People give her smelly-good candles, whimsical jewelry, and baked goods. So, why not give the lady a Ree-style apron?

Now, I should forewarn that

a)      That I never turn down help

b)      I am more of a mess in a craft than I am in a kitchen

In order to joojuz an apron, Jay and I shopped Anthropologie online, checked out some local hot spots and online stores, and finally would up with this

from World Market.

On Monday we left our boys with chili dogs and a Magic game, making the five minute trek to her mom’s house (high school, flashback).

There, her father made a perfect pattern via sight (he has superpowers the he earned as an Army colonel that you should not question). Then Jay’s crafty mama added some backing to the fabric.

Then she did some crafty things

that involve a skill level way beyond my craft pay grade

And, apparently above her craft threshold at 10 p.m.

So, she kicked out us out while worked and left us to look through three generations of women’s button jars.

If we had been less tired, we might have teared up at the sentimentality of keeping and putting to Everyday Use the history of women. But, I am pretty sure if they were watching they were probably pretty pleased with our general ohs and aws.At one point a dong bone button, an anchor, and a wooden set of four sent us into hallelujah-gospel-singing fits.

Just look at these vintage buttons labels.

Wouldn’t they make excellent craft and stationary projects just by themselves. I love them. I am going to buy some of my very own.

This is the pile of buttons Jay took home for herself.

We might have spent several hours looking at buttons.

By the time Jay’s momma came back with the pocket on we had amassed enough buttons to bedazzle every bit of fabric on the entire apron. Since we thought that might send Ree into an 80’s trip she might never be able to recover from, we erred on the side of caution.

The design ended up a little like this– minus the removal of about  half the top buttons (there was a moment, near midnight, when we realized that just because you like the button doesn’t mean you have to use the button).

Long after my bedtime phase I was completed and it was time to start work on Phase II—you know the part where I actually make something, instead of enlisting everyone else I know to make Ree’s gift awesome….

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