I can always sleep standing up...

Liana's off at an American Studies conference in Albuquerque this weekend, which leaves me alone with the puppies, Linus and Mathilda. I slept in longer than I have in weeks this morning, and called her when I woke up. She didn't answer, so I pulled up the covers again and cuddled with Mathilda, who thinks the entire bed belongs to her. I thought of letting myself doze off, but I wanted to talk to Liana when she eventually called back, so I cradled Phoebus Apollo, my cell phone, in my hand as I lay there.

See, I keep Phoebus Apollo on vibrate because Linus is a very neurotic dog, and gets excessively anxious when it goes off- on any ring tone. But I hate having to lay with my hand wrapped around an electronic device, even if it is the only way I'll get to speak to my best friend today. A cell phone isn't like a teddy bear, or a puppy or a kitten- even when you go to the trouble of naming it, it's still cold and hard and impersonal, and the joy-buzzer vibration it emits to signal the receipt of a call is among the least pleasant ways of being awakened. Then I had an idea- and it wasn't like I was going to get to sleep again at this point, so I slid out of bed and pulled the sewing box out of the closet.

I've been sewing pillow covers for the new furniture in our living room- everyday ones and ridiculous patriotic ones for the election night party we're having two weeks from Tuesday- and I had a bevy of scraps left over from those and other projects. It took longer than I'd first envisioned in my moment of Edison-like inspiration, but I was able to stitch together enough patchwork for a small project, and I used a ukulele as the pattern for my piece (because it was the closest thing on hand). I built in a pocket just big enough for Phoebus Apollo, stitched the two uke sides together, and filled the form with polyester fiber (the trick is to stitch the bottom of the pocket last so it acts a sort of umbilical cord for filling the body of the pillow, and then the hem is hidden inside).

The result is a sort of "cell phone cozy"- I can comfortably wrap my arms around it while resting, and the vibration is sufficiently dampened so that an incoming call is reminiscent of a purring cat. The idea's probably been patented, and I could probably march over to Target and choose from a whole aisle full of cell phone cozies- some that look like teddy bears, or puppies, or presidential candidates, but for now I'll rest in the knowledge that I've managed, in a few hours' work, to solve one of life's minor problems. When I wake up, I'll move on to global warming.