Have you ever had a week in which you become completely befuddled as to what day it is? Welcome to my world. I awoke today and thought about what day it could be for about fifteen minutes before I stumbled out to Ye Olde Desk Calendar to find out it's Thursday. Already. Hmm.
Stewey and I are lost in a good book at the moment...A Novel Bookstore by Laurence Cosse':
This was a Christmas gift from Aunt Chrissy, and despite the fact that I am in no way smart enough to read this book, I am enjoying it immensely. It takes place in France and I'm pretty sure that if I were a better-read person I would "get" all of the references, but as it is I get to feel all shee shee foo foo while butchering the words within.
(What can I say? I'm forty-four years old and had to look up the word arrondissement: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arrondissement).
I decided to pull out One Long Panel last night, and was thrilled to discover that I had enough thread to work on the next section. I had to bench this piece for a while because I've run out of the turquoise ribbon that I'm using, but I figured I could do a little stitching on it while I wait for reinforcements to arrive. This might not seem like a big deal to those of you who aren't nutso, but for me to run out of thread in the midst of a project and NOT drop my proverbial basket is a major accomplishment. Sombody should give me a medal or something.
So I'll stitch as far as I can on this one and will hopefully finish it up within the next week or so, once the new threads arrive in my mailbox. (Note to self...must find mailbox that is buried under eleventy-eight feet of snow.)
Those, my friends are all of the exciting details of a Thursday from lil' ol mwa. I'm planning to clean the house today and to finally do something about Mt. Laundry that has accumulated in the closet, but I'm sure this will pass the moment I get absorbed in all things stitchy on the internets. Alas, it is not to be for me to have a perfectly clean home, organized cabinets, freshly laundered laundry, and a dog who pees outside. Such is the life of a spinster on a Hoosierville Thursday.