AND THEN...SHE HIT A NERVE

Oh my goodness! Y'all just ROCK my stupid little world with your nice comments! And considering the fact that I have been unable to lift my arms or bend any of my major joints ever since the cleaning marathon...you REALLY rock my stupid little world!

(Maybe that's how I will finally motivate myself to clean the rest of the house...."If I scrub this (insert thing that needs to be scrubbed here) to within an inch of its life and sweat through my terry cloth headband and bike shorts while doing it, maybe all of my stitchy friends will write nice comments that will make the impending pain of death palatable." Hmmmm. Could we be on to something here?)

The first thing I do want to do though is apologize for that post, especially if you thought it was a little too....um...brag-gy. I'm Catholic. Guilt is like breathing for me. So now that I've pranced around for three days going "Look at meeeeeee! Look at meeee!", I'm feeling the need to confess my sin of pride. For all of you out there who thought to yourselves "My God, what an obnoxious blog post", please know that I beat you to the punch.

(But I'm not unposting it.)

Thread storage seemed to be a hot topic. I store my threads according to way I use them. In other words, I keep all of the like with like. Those white three drawer thingies hold all my threads according to number (for things like DMC perle cotton), or alphabetically (for things like Weeks and Gentle Art). And then there's the drawer that says "Misc silk" because I don't really have enough of any one thing to justify a whole drawer for it. I also have a scrapbooking doo dad that I hang all of my Crescent Colours on, but the jury is still out on whether or not that's a very practical solution for me.

I also wanted to mention that zones are a huge thing for me. All that means, basically, is that I put all of the scrapbooking crap in one place, all of the beading crap in another, cross stitch, needlepoint...yadda yadda yadda and on and on and on until I have it in a way that I can find stuff. This really has no other purpose than to prevent me from going to the Michael's every ten minutes for crap that I already have and probably didn't need in the first darn place.

I am always waaaayyyy too happy to tell you all about the way I do crap up there, and I'll even try to give you the brand name of the doo dad that I'm using, but the thing I really really really want to say with full-throated voice and hand over heart is.....

It's all good, people. It's all good.

I don't care if your studio consists of the third shelf in a closet at the back of a storage shed in the middle of a corn field or if you stuff everything you own into a black plastic garbage bag and haul it around in a little red wagon. Anybody, and I really do mean anybody who picks up a needle, sticks a piece of thread through it, and then pokes it into something is OK in my book. And I don't care if you're stitching daffodils or unicorns or quilt patterns or fractals or the latest pictures from your Uncle Fester's colonoscopy. If you're stitching or tatting or knitting or scrapbooking or punching or hooking or doing anything else that remotely relates to this thing of ours, I will sit next to you all day long and secretly wish to be your friend.

So there you have it.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have bike shorts to don and a terry cloth headband to fish out of the "Things I Wore In 1973" bin. There's cleanin' to do!