I never meant to be a collector. Freezer full of sock yarn? A rational 'safe-storage' plan. Bookcases stacked to groaning with books about quilting/knitting/soap making? Future reference. Giant plastic storage crates of tiny little snowmen? Girl's obviously out of her tree.
Here is a scary, cross-eyed pic of what happens when I love on the cat. Yep. Those would be hives springing up all over my face. (I've since touched up those white roots, too.)
'cuz I don't like flashing my hoo-hoo at tired old men? Does that answer the question? Gah.
On tomorrow's agenda, pics of a bunch of new Kaffe Fassett fabrics what just arrived at the shop, as well as a quilt block from Jaye. It's huge and gorgeous and I'm turning it into a medallion quilt top. I'm mailing you some new dots, Miss Jaye. Fresh off the UPS truck! Be back here tomorrow when I hatch the plan to stuff Gaylen's comment box with snarky holiday fun whilst she is otherwise detained. Maybe we'll have a contest for outrageous holiday-hell stories. What do you think?
Smooches, pooches. C