So, remember that list of 10 crafty projects that had, had, had to be done? Yeah, I try to forget my "to do" list too. Anyway, some of those items had deadlines and y'all know Leslie and her deadlines. Gotta love the thrill of scooting in, just under the wire with one of those big clocks in the sky ticking away and the crowd holding its breath wondering if I'll get that last seam done just as the buzzer goes off. Ah, the joys of a procrastinator. Ahem, not a procrastinator, just someone with too much s**t on her plate and an uncanny ability to give herself more s**t to do. (Yes, I write about the delicacies of the nineteenth century. Guess I spend all my pretty talk there and y'all get s**t on a plate. It's a blue willow plate. Does that help?)
Okay, so last night I decided to be wild and crazy and work on secret marriage present #2. Sara and Scott aren't visiting for almost two weeks and I was sewing already. I know, frightening thought. But don't worry, I'm sure I'll be trying to tack this one on Friday afternoon, wanting my friends to arrive but secretly hoping there's a traffic jam in Canada. Yeah, rural Canandian traffic jams are a booger. (Granted this is about as likely as a traffic jam in Wooldridge, but I'm assuming I'll be pretty darn desperate by next Friday. Maybe some cows will get out or something...)
And just to show proof of my work... Since we all know a good stiff drink is a good idea when working with sharp objects, figured a bit of Kahlua and cream would help the quilt along. My mama would be so proud. Ash, recognize those jeans? You know they're from our favorite rummage sale friends. Wonder if they'll have a special deal if I come home for Thanksgiving.
See, there's this random house close to Ashley's neighborhood and every time I come to town, they're having a sale. Now, they're not the kind of crazies who have sales every week. (Who'd do that? Not even I have enough s**t to do a rummage sale every weekend. And who'd want to deal with rummage salers, I mean, people like us every Saturday morning? Ugh.) Once, I attended their sale and found a few items. You have to when all clothes are a quarter. Then, in true Leslie style, I get the bright idea to make jean quilts for everyone I know including the mailman. (See above discussion of too much s**t on the plate.) Gotta buy fabric!!! Jokingly, I tell Ash that I hope her neighbors have gone on a diet and have a ton of fat people jeans to sell to me... for a quarter. I was pretty freaked out when we saw the sign at the front of their house and a collection of South Beach Diet books on the table. But lest you fear, I can make jean quilts for all the mailmen in my life and since you know how frequently I move, I tend to have a new one every few days.
Gotta get out the door. It's Tuesday and we all know what that means... 25% off for students at AmVets! How I love the smell of musty thrift stores in the morning.