Lexi has been making everyone pony bead necklaces for a while now, so Matt bought her some smaller beads and I volunteered a ball point craft needle, and she’s been quite busy making elastic and plastic bead bracelets and necklaces. So far, I’m the only human that she’s deigned to provide with a necklace, vast majority of her employment is adorning her considerable herd of My Little Ponies.
Josey is also being very nice to me. I was treated to muffins earlier in the week, and found that the dishes had been washed. The crowning achievement was a room that stayed clean(ish) all week. That was nice.
Why all the niceness? I have no idea, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Nothing is missing or broken, the house hasn’t burnt down and all their school work is done– they are just being spontaneously nice. I’m just going to appreciate it.
It’s the last week of my Business 105 course, all my courses are accelerated, so this week instead of the usual two assignments I have three. And it’s the Thursday before a weekend craft show, so of course I have three assignments in different stages of incompletion. I have until Saturday to turn them in, but I’d rather not push it until the eleventh hour.
I’ll be staying at my Mom’s over the weekend (since she’s also going to be at the craft fair.) I’m going to try to remember to bring the camera with me so I can document what we affectionately refer to as “Beanie Baby Hell” for your amusement. I’ve tried in the past to describe the 9 layers of Beanie Baby Hell to people but words fall short of the actual experience, inevitably people think I am exaggerating.
And if it doesn’t place my life in direct peril (it might) I’ll also snap some pics of the craft room of death. That room, as tempting and delightful as it’s contents might be, has tried to take lives in the past, including my own– maybe it actually has claimed lives and we just don’t know it yet, because the bodies are so cleverly concealed by bolts of fabric and boxes of notions like a plush cask of Monticello.
My theory is that the craft room operates much the same as a pitcher plant, promising the sweet nectar of endless crafting and leading it’s victims to inevitable destruction. What sinister secrets it hides behind a facade of innocent polar fleece and bolts of broadcloth have yet to be revealed.
Enough procrastinating for me. I’m off to finish my schoolwork so I can go outside and play.
Let’s start with what can be seen from the doorway. There’s the sewing machine. Mom and I might not agree on much, but we do agree that an older machine is a precious workhorse that will never fail. Usually there’s a box of something on the chair and not much covering the surface of the sewing table, for some reason the situation was reversed this day.
Then there’s the other sewing desk. I think there’s another sewing machine in there. And usually it has a serger sitting on the top.
Now at this point you might wonder if Mom actually uses all her craft supplies or does she just grow the stash? In truth, she’s a pretty dedicated crafter and during the slow times in her business she busies herself whittling down the stash and creating some really delightful stuff.