Is there such a thing as a daisy farmer? If so, that's exactly what I want to be when I grow up.
When I planted myself in the Happy Chair yesterday I was completely out of sorts. (Nothing too serious, mind you, just life and all that comes with it.) So I stared and stared and stared at my big pile 'o stuff and finally decided to just put a few stitches onto the Maggie flower canvas.
A few stitches lead to a few more stitches, and before I knew it I was on the phone with Aunt Chrissy shouting about how fabulous River Silks are to work with. (If you've never tried them before, or if you're like me and had never done any ribbon embroidery...I say go for it and have fun!)
I realize that my daisies probably don't look like Ruth intended them to look (or the designer of the canvas for that matter), but I like them and that's all that matters. Ahem.
(Oh. Sorry. Should have explained that Ruth wrote the stitch guide for me for this canvas.)
Stewey asks me to send his heartfelt apologies for not writing lately. He is suffering from a rather bad case of writer's block and has decided to just do some summer reading instead. I'm not sure what exactly is in his Kindle, but as soon as he goes down for his nap today, I'll take a peek and let you know. (That, of course, is provided he hasn't installed any type of Mommie Dearest Security Block on the damn thing.)
Eight cucumbers out of the garden last night are now in the fridge in the form of bread and butter pickles. I've never made them before, so I'm not sure how I did, but if they taste as good as they look and smell, I might have stumbled across a new career path. Pickle maker.
Hmmmm. Coni J. Rich, Pickle Maker and Daisy Farmer Extraordinaire. Do you suppose that will fit on a business card?