That is what the two-year-old decided to glam himself up in this evening, while life at Becher Haus carried on around him. He's now been showered, scrubbed with the decidedly delicious "Spa Wisdom" salt scrub and exfoliating wash, and is now passing out on my lap... I am, in fact, blogging single-handedly.
Today marked the second day in a row someone has come in and offered to work at the shop. If only I could afford to hire someone, then ol' Clementine would really be in business. This weekend marks the beginning of the "skill builder" series; a collection of classes that open the door to patchworking perfection. I've even had one phone call about it. My 'happy chaos' class is still finishing up, so I'm going in to be cloned tomorrow morning. Er, wait... that's just for more Xanax. Properly dispensed, this may be just as good a solution. Ooh, what a "Pollyanna" I am today. (I smell marvelous, though. That Body Shop Africa Spa salt scrub rules.)
I have to go now. For some reason I've been having killer dizzy-spells the past few days, and another one just got going. Perhaps I'm boring myself to death with this 'blogging 366' thing I was so hot and bothered to do. If the biggest news of my day is that Eli globbed lip gloss all over himself, can this blog be going anywhere but down hill? p.s. the pink squirrel rode around on my head all day... I was terribly cute. Lotta's swag is super-fun. She even sent me a cutesy big button ring, but since I have Miss Piggy fingers (though with cleverly painted whorey nails), I gave it to my twelve-year-old. It's suitably punk for her. Gotta go, as it's getting late.
p.p.s. My man has taken up knitting, and he's freaking great at it. He could not stand watching me watch the Lucy Neatby DVDs (love them) and he had to get involved. I just outed him on my blog... tee-hee.