Slave Driver

I'm pretty sure Kelly won't be too eager to pop into the shop anytime soon. She's probably home now, exhausted and aching, from getting enlisted to do grunt work as the fiber festival presses near. She may have inadvertently let slip she used to assemble quilt kits. In a normal conversation, on a regular day, it would not have fazed me the least... today, I practically thrust a rotary cutter at her. She helped to choose fabrics for some Amy Butler purse kits, and became acquainted with the price sticker gun. Oh, and she ran to the bakery... and brought some back. Thank you, Miss K. You might just rock.

I just checked... it starts in less than fourteen hours. I still have kits to assemble, fleece packs to label and price, and sometime in those hours, I have to get all the yarn, etc. to the fairgrounds and set up prettily. No prob. I've factored in the five hours of Zzzzzs I need, some time for minimal-cuteness-hygiene, and transit into town and to/from the shop to fair grounds. Allowing for getting stuck at traffic lights all the way across town (adds ten minutes), I think I can even squeak a trip over to Burger King for breakfast, because I think Mandi and I will be a couple of hungry (and possibly cranky) booth keepers if I don't.

I actually didn't blog yesterday because of the storms and power outage. Dinner was by candlelight, the house was quite close and the storms were fast and just dumped water in huge sheets. Trees snapped, a few twisters were reported, and some of the roads to 'home' flooded out, but aside from suffering a temporary lack of air-conditioning, we were spared any damage. And you were spared a quippy post about how wonderfully prepared I thought I was for this festival. I will have a decent photo-post tomorrow... got to charge up the camera battery. Good thing you reminded me. Latah, knittas. C