Archive for February 2012
crafting a fine pile of anxiety
Oh, yeah, I remember this process. In fear of overthinking the fabric, I grab all solids from my stash, and, from JoAnn, I literally buy a stack of solid fat quarters that happen to be in front of me — no comparing, sorting, looking for others. In fear of overthinking the pattern, I hastily come…
Read Morebow wow yowzers
[direct link] This song was the height of edgy cool, back in the day. I happened to be in England when it came out, and upon my return to the US, I enjoyed a brief period of coolness, as I brought word of A Brand New Style of Music! I suggest you look at this…
Read Moreit comes back like a hurricane
After a ridiculously long, um, hibernation from being creative in a hands-on, making sense, the past couple of weeks have woken me up fully and wonderfully. Not that I’ve actually created anything, yet, but the stage is set. Craftcation! A giant indie craft conference coming to MY area! MINE! I can walk to it from…
Read Moreand lamer was her nameo
I went to a Bingo game last night with my friend Carla. We’ve gone a couple times over the years, to small-change games in the main rooms of various service clubs around town. Last night we went to a major game, located in a huge room at the horse betting club at the fairgrounds. I…
Read Moreopening a can of … something
I am clearing out space in the garage and various dark cabinets of the house in which I live so that I, ultimately, have more room in my closet so that I (long story short) do not go batshit crazy. The surprisingly arduous Closet Reorganization Project is a post for another time. No one’s really…
Read Morewe win
[link] How about that Madonna halftime show? Sparkly, insanely over the top, emotionally intense (at least for me), pure spectacle .. this is now required holiday viewing till the end of time. Not only that, but I got to watch it at home, after a lovely picnic with the lad, and not having to deal…
Read Morenot quite as soft as an easy chair
My boyfriend brings me a rose from his garden almost every time we get together. Sometimes when we’re out, he absentmindedly reaches for his pocket flashlight — he’s used to running out to his garden in the darkness, grabbing a bloom before he sees me. Sweet. It’s sweet, what we have. It’s also complicated, frustrating,…
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