Under the wire here, squeeking in the daily post by the skin of my nose. Yesterday ended this morning at two a.m., and today began six-ish, with a very small, alert toddler gingerly trying to pull up my eyelids..."you 'wake, Mom?" It seemed he was thirsty, and I am the only train to the kitchen; he knows Daddy can not be prodded from leaving a warm bed unless it's on fire.
Lots of help from Rob today, though I still cannot make the scanner talk to the computer, nor can I seem to download photos. Agh. Not that anyone really wants to see piles of Rowan yarn laying about the store. Horrid mess. String everywhere, books, too. What a nightmare. Today was agonizingly slow, though the day picked up considerably at the tail end, when a brand new customer came in and ordered up ten yards of fabric. The fiber fates had their way with me when, right as she left, with the smile still upon my lips, in came a couple of meanies. You 'member the other day when I got ragged out about not selling "cheap fabric". I think these two women were the training team for those whiners. They wanted cloth to make a tote for a grand-daughter, for her twenty-first birthday. I was informed they had never paid nine dollars for a yard of anything, and weren't about to start now. I wonder if the grand-daughter knows just how special she is. Of course she does. Just a few minutes left before this post is officially tardy, so I'm off to watch the snow fly till the meds kick in. G'night, knittas.