It’s cold here this morning. Well, cold for us: 36 degrees. I know, some of you who live in the northern regions are snickering right now but for the
|They're really good at doing nothing|
Fridays are the days each week when I do only what I want to do. It’s kind of like my weekly sanity day. I’m still in my jammies. I just might wear them all day. Makeup? Not today. Do my hair? Might run a brush through it but I’m not committing to anything. But since the world hasn’t ended today, I guess I’m going to have to do laundry. It’s the one chore I do on Fridays. I have to keep The Husband in clean skivvies – he gets very grumpy otherwise. Speaking of The Husband, he was not elated when he came home last night to find that the unruly pile o’stuff had been replaced by two sweaters I’d blocked and laid out to dry, utilizing the entire dining room table. He obviously doesn’t appreciate how long it took me to get to said blocking. It probably doesn’t help that I make a point to snipe at him to not touch, move, set anything on, or to even breathe on my works in progress. I can’t help it; I’ve developed some sort of unexplainable radar that alerts me whenever anything comes within 3 feet of my creations. It’s involuntary. Really, it is.
I will work toward getting my daughter’s gift done – I’m at around 65% and sweater number 6 is coming along nicely. I should have it done later this evening. Then if this handful of buttons on my desk would manage to sew themselves onto their respective garments, I’d be completely ecstatic. Okay, it won’t happen but wouldn’t it be great if it did? I can dream…