Sew Like You Roll

Doctors know the secrets of the cosmos but the secrets of making a cape? Not so much. If you didn’t attend Rowley Con this year, in addition to missing out on a profusion of sweat-infused gaming, you skipped something the universe may never see again: Doctors giving stitching lessons.

Jason and I modified our plunge TMNT costumes for Rowley Con. Green tabi boots added another reptilian-ninja element.
Jason and I modified our plunge TMNT costumes for Rowley Con. Green tabi boots added another reptilian-ninja element.
Milo was one of the few kids that actually tried to stitch on their own.
Milo was one of the few kids that actually tried to stitch on their own.

Our friend Jeremy puts on a nerd-saturated gathering every spring called Rowley Con. This congregation of the play minded encompasses an entire weekend. Board games, videogames, cosplay, and anime are all included. This year I volunteered to tap into my costuming passion (i.e. obsession) to level up the powers of this assemblage.

In one day, ten superheroes were created thanks to our tutelage. That's a better statistic than radioactive insects or toxic sludge can claim.
In one day, ten superheroes were created thanks to our tutelage. That’s a better statistic than radioactive insects or toxic sludge can claim.
Jason and I came to Rowley Con's second day as the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors, specifically the 50th anniversary versions of them.
Jason and I came to Rowley Con’s second day as the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors, specifically the 50th anniversary versions of them.
Men in tights will always have an unfair advantage in this world. Drew beat Jason in the male costume contest on tightness.
Men in tights will always have an unfair advantage in this world. Drew beat Jason in the male costume contest on tightness.

Jason and I helped ten students, mostly children, create their own logoed superhero capes in the first Rowley Con cosplay class ever. We taught this group while costumed ourselves as the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors. Our Padawans loved designing their insignias. Those emblems were comprised of everything from rainbowed unicorns to death ray robots. The rest of the procedure, unfortunately, didn’t hold their interest as much. It took about four hours in total for us to finish up all the capes, mostly because the kids’ usefulness waned drastically. It’s a good thing that sewing machines have moving parts and are susceptible to sonic suggestions.

Jacob commandeered Jason's newly-made cape and posed for a slew of ridiculous pictures.
Jacob commandeered Jason’s newly-made cape and posed for a slew of ridiculous pictures.
I didn't make these entire costumes but I did sew my waistcoat. Due to its fanciness, that piece took a lot longer to put together than expected.
I didn’t make these entire costumes but I did sew my waistcoat. Due to its fanciness, that piece took a lot longer to put together than expected.

Here’s my Oscar speech. Thanks Jason for spending many hours cutting out all of the fabric; I couldn’t have done it without you. And thanks Jeremy for hosting another fine meeting of the geeks. Without you, the unshowered masses would neither be all dressed up nor have anywhere to go. Now, instead, they can be mistaken for birds and planes in style.

Achieving 60

Life is full of milestones, whether they be goals accomplished, changes initiated, or years reached.

Jason’s dad, Keith, realized one such achievement recently, his 60th birthday. As with most noteworthy occasions, this called for embarrassment and gluttony.

Sabins are not known for their decorum.
Sabins are not known for their decorum.

Jason and I, along with various other Sabins, planned a surprise party for Keith. For my part, I commissioned a fancy cake depicting some of the highlights of his life and compiled a scrapbook with memories contributed by various family members. No one could ever accuse me of doing things halfway.

My friend Robyn made this amazing cake.
My friend Robyn made this amazing cake.
The majority of Keith's siblings attended and they were in top teasing form.
The majority of Keith’s siblings attended and they were in top teasing form.

Lots of relatives and friends showed up for this celebration, an indisputable sign of 60 years well lived.

Happy birthday Dad!

Birthday Bullets

Until about a month or so ago, I had lived my whole life without ever firing a gun. (Unless you count a BB, which I’m guessing most of you would only count a nuisance.) Shooting a firearm has never been on my list of things to do, much as you weaponologists may find that unacceptable. Evidentially, it has always been on Jason’s list of things for me to do though. Fortunately for him, plans for my dad’s birthday celebration this year included a multigenerational shooting-range experience.

The idea of shooting an AR-15 made me a little skittish. My dad talked me through it.
The idea of shooting an AR-15 made me a little skittish. My dad talked me through it.

Several of my siblings and I decided that we’d rather do something with my dad for his birthday than give him something for his birthday. A few ideas were tossed around but, ultimately, we chose to take him to a shooting range. We had a mixed group of family members join us, including some nieces and nephews.

I was surprised by how smooth and easy the AR-15 was to operate.
I was surprised by how smooth and easy the AR-15 was to operate.

I’ll admit, I was a little daunted by the prospect of handling a deadly weapon; I prefer not to finger anything more lethal than a herring. So I started out with a wee gun with petite bullets, a little 22 that made a feeble sound when fired. Next, my hubby and brother convinced me to try a 9mm. I got fed up with its backtalk rather quickly. Yes, I am a weapons wimp, as if that wasn’t already apparent. After my brief 9mm lashing, I was content sticking with the 22 but, again, the males intervened. They talked me into taking some rounds with an AR-15. This AR-15 did not look friendly. It was a large gun and, as I already stated, I am a wimp. However, I gave it a crack and discovered that it was easier to handle than the 9mm. It fit comfortably against my shoulder and didn’t have too much recoil. I guess size really doesn’t matter.

Our group of shooters spanned three generations.
Our group of shooters spanned three generations.

Although I am in no danger of becoming a gun enthusiast, I had a good time with my family at the range. And I no longer think that guns are terrifying just incredibly loud, difficult to handle, and potentially fatal.