Procrasti-costumes

I seem to have done a flip over the past few weeks – replacing writing posts with that of my alter ego’s passion, costuming. This is not surprising, as there are a plethora of parties at this time of year (often costume parties in my circle of friends/clubs). Each serves to facilitate my obsession.

Last weekend was the annual Christmas Costume party held by the Australian Costumers’ Guild. There was no theme; it is a chance to pull out and re-wear old costumes. Okay, okay, many of us make new ones. Well, who needs an excuse anyway?

My daughter has decided she wants to create some pop-culture costumes during the school holidays.

“No problem,” I say. It gives me something constructive to do while procrastinating, I think to myself.

“Let’s make some procrasti-costumes!”

(“What is a procrasti-costume?” I hear you ask. It is a costume I make when I am putting off writing. At least I am being constructive, eh? That is a whole other blog post.)

I finally put together my Osgood costume (Dr Who – Day of the Doctor). A labcoat, bic biros, my Doctor Who scarf – perfect costume for the a casual party.

Dearheart’s costume originated with a chance purchase of a hooded Santa coat. Add a mask and gloves (thanks to post Halloween sales) and the official Hogfather belt buckle (my birthday gift to him a few years back) and we have Hogfather!

Until now, I have made all of my daughter’s costumes. Now she has decided she wants to make some herself. Huzzah! Who am I to stand in the way? I am overjoyed. (More time to make ours – oops, did I write that?)

She is a big fan of Adventure Time – in particular of Marceline. I was put in charge of the hot glue. Another easy costume. (Thanks, Sweetie!)

She drew up a pattern for the axe-guitar, then transferred to a left-over cardboard box. The painting began. I helped her with some of the fiddly bits. My Dearheart spray painted the knobs and bobs (conveniently found in leftovers box in the shed).

     

It is amazing what can be made from cardboard, wood offcuts, sculpey, wire, gardening string, bottle tops, odd curtain rod ends, hotglue and lots of paint.

The costumes were comfortable and we had a great time. I hope you all enjoy the silly season.

What have you got planned?

Procrasti-costumes

December Flash Friday, the Third

This week’s flash fiction was written last year. The inspiration was a writing prompt ‘Children’s story with the theme: peas’ – limit 500 words. Just a bit of fun.

Snow Peas

By Karen J Carlisle (c) 2013

Mum always tells us to eat our greens. They are good for us.  We grow them in the front yard. This year she went pea mad, planting every pea type known.

I hate peas. I swallow them whole, like pills.

Mum planted snow peas. She was hoped I would like them. I did, but not as mum had hoped.

Summer was hot. The snow peas were dying. Mum was sad. I wished I could help. I wanted to chase the heat away. I couldn’t, so I ate the snow peas.

They were cold. As I opened my mouth, a gust of cold air rushed out. It filled the room. Small icicles grew on everything it touched. Mum almost fell off her chair in surprise.  I opened my mouth again, this time freezing mum’s cup of tea. Then I had an idea.

Outside the sun was still beating down. I turned towards the vegetable garden and breathed. The air chilled around me. The temperature dropped. It felt like Spring. If I could lower it for long enough then maybe the peas could survive the heatwave. The temperature continued to drop. Now it was like winter.  Small icicles formed on the leaves, turning the tips black.

I heard the front door slam. Mum stood beside me.

“Oh dear,” she said. “Peas don’t like frost.”

Mum looked sad. I didn’t speak. The peas continued to freeze.  She hugged me.

“Thank you for trying,” she said. Though mum was upset at the loss of her babies, I must admit I was glad that I did not have to eat any more peas that summer.

It took two days for the snow pea effect to wear off. During that time, we discovered many new flavours of icies. Mum decided that she was not going to make me eat peas anymore. I suppose I do love snow peas, after all.

 THE END

*Flash fiction is a short story of less than 800 words (definitions vary from 500-1000 words)

December Flash Friday, the Third

December Tea and Tidings - flying out soon

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December Tea and Tidings - flying out soon

Time Traveller's Picnic

The annual Time Traveller’s Picnic is traditionally held on 8th December, to mark International Pretend to be a Time Traveller Day which started on a social site in 2007. (also known as International Dress like a Time Traveller Day). I first heard about this back in 2008/09 (can’t remember exactly when I will hear) on the Antipodean League of Temporal Voyagers. I think the first one here in Adelaide was in 2010 at Victoria Square and the launch of Olympia: A Steampunk Spectacular!

This year our vortex manipulators and time-turners screwed up and we all landed back at Victoria Square on the 7th (on a weekend this time – which meant we could attend this year!) We arrived from whenever and every time to take tea, Tictoc biscuits, pumpkin scones and Jammy Dodgers.

What to wear, what to wear?

I wanted something steampunkish but fit for the predicted hot weather. After the councils revamp of the Square, there is little shade. It was the perfect time to try out my new parasol and new (well, from the opshop) boater style hat.

I decided to try an early 1900s hairstyle to match the hat. First to make a hair rat: I have been collecting hair (sounds ick) for the past year. This is my first attempt. I used a ‘sheer’ stocking – but it defeats the purpose of using my own hair so I can match the colour. Next time I will try for a hair net to allow the colour to show through.

 

A new hair accessory deserves a new hairstyle – this is my first attempt at this roll style. A lot of hair pins were required. The rat was covered at the beginning of the day.

This photo was taken about 3 hours later. You can see the lighter coloured stocking. (I definitely need a hair net)  I pulled out one of my very early steampunk outfits, added a newly aquired linen blouse to cope with the heat.

How to Time travel? With a vortex manipulator of course! (Dr Who for those who are not initiated.)

Had a great day with the family (My Dearheart dressed as Sirius Black – in the handpainted vest I made a few years ago – and Time-turner)

 

More photos are on my FB page – Karen J Carlisle or Flickr Page – Katdb.

Time Traveller's Picnic

Last Minute: t-shirt sale

To my US followers:

Redbubble have another sale on 15% off all apparel using coupon code APPLY15 (valid in the USA only).

You can find steampunk/D&D-gaming themed t-shirts at my redbubble store:
Karen Carlisle /katdb 

Coupon code expires December 14, 2014 at 11:59 PM, and due to shipping deadlines is only for American purchases.

Last Minute: t-shirt sale

December Flash Friday, the Second

Last year I entered a lot of competitions. Many were flash fiction. Lost was entered for an anthology with the theme of twisted – under 500 words.

“LOST”

by Karen J Carlisle (c) 2013

The one thing that mother had said was to stay close. If only she had not stopped to pick up her beloved doll. If only she had not lagged behind. Their light had faded up ahead, long ago. Amelia only had the faint glimmer of the cave’s famous moss to guide her now. It had not helped. She stumbled over the now uneven ground. With the end of the man-made pathway, went all hope.

Amelia’s legs trembled and collapsed beneath her. The ground was cold. The chill of the thick air enveloped her, chilling her to the bone.

Maybe if she stayed put? Eventually they would find her. She sobbed. Her numbing fingers clung tightly to her doll. At least she had company.

The cave filled with the echoes of Amelia’s cries. Each one rebounded, lamenting the other growing quieter. Soon only faint, forlorn whispers remained, forming an eerie serenade that wafted through the endless tunnels.

***

Jack Bartel’s passion was caving. He had spent most of the morning exploring the caves. He stood in the main cavern, listening to the calming water as it dripped down the walls and marvelled at the faintly glowing mosses. A cool breeze caressed his face, breaking the stillness. On it rode a faint, sorrowful whisper bringing with it, heartache.

Some poor creature is lost.

Jack re-lit his headlamp and followed the sound along one of the cave’s passages. As he delved deeper, the air grew thicker. The cold crept closer. The cries grew louder until it was recognisable.

A child’s cry.

Jack’s gloved hands fumbled with his phone. He still had a signal and dialled for assistance. He pressed further on.

“Hello?” His call echoed back, becoming garbled as it ricocheted in the narrowing crevice. The cries stopped.

“Don’t be scared. I am here to help,” he said.

Silence.

Up ahead, Jack saw something reflecting in his light. A few steps more and he found her.

The white bones were cold, loosely held within the tattered remains of a pale blue linen shift. Beside them lay a porcelain doll, its eye glinting in the torchlight.

THE END

*Flash fiction is a short story of less than 800 words (definitions vary from 500-1000 words)

December Flash Friday, the Second

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