Scheduled Outage

I'm having a terrible week. It's been 'crickets' at the shop, the children are all ill-behaved and surly with each other, and the well has been making unsettling 'spitting' noises when the laundry is started, or the bidet turned on. Not all the time. Just often enough for me to be in perpetual freak-out mode. We got a bid on running water to our house from the corner. It was over ten grand in "eight years ago" dollars, not including actually running it the additional 220 feet to our house. A dry well or a broken well pump would not be the icing on the cake of my week. It's probably that darn earthquake's fault. *grumble, grumble*

Okay, venom released, and after my Xanax kicks in I'll be a much happier Stepford Wife. The Kaffe/Lakehouse quilt didn't have any progress made on it today, but I think I just decided to frame each four patch with a larger Kaffe polka-dot print. It's turquoise with orange-sherbet spots, and as all of the prints have smatterings of the same deep aqua shade, I think it'll be just the thing to set it all aglow. I just finished reading "Quilts in the Sun", and am antsy to do a simple framed block quilt.

An amazing costumer/seamstress came into the shop today and had corset samples with her. One of them was made out of this Amy Butler fabric and it was amazing. She's making a dress for the shop from a circa 1952 Vogue pattern out of this Jennifer Paganelli black-on-white print. I could get all sappy about how blessed I am to have such creative, wonderful people coming in to help make Clementine's a place to hang out, dream up, and have fun, but then I recall LeAnn eating the last cupcake, so there's that trouble, too. Only she did have the decency to eat it in the only proper way... first you pinch the lower half off, then upend it over the frosting. Et voila! A frosting sammie. Absolutely delicious. But she left a huge bowl of fresh strawberries for us, so, okay, I won't hold a grudge. Gotta go now. That whole "house isn't going to clean itself " thing is rearing it's ugly head. What kind of Stepford Wife would I be if I let the house go? (Ha, Ha... a happy one, to be sure!)