I woke up the other day with the strangest, strongest urge to cut up fabric for patchwork pillows. Not just any fabric, but the old size 12 jeans that now bag in the butt in a most unflattering way, because they have sentimental meaning but I sure don't need them hanging in my closet, and combine them with some lovely blue batik fat quarters I'd bought a while back, swearing I was going to start sewing. Okay, so it took, like, a year, but I'm inching slowly toward actually sewing. The first efforts will be cheap and easy, because I am still in the "sew a straight seam without injuring myself" stage of operating sewing machinery. (Handsewing is no problem, I'm great at that, but it's so slow.) It has taken a couple of days just to move from the urge to sew to actually preparing the fabric for cutting, and maybe by Sunday afternoon I will have time to actually sit down and cut out some triangles to put together in something simple and blue.

The whole damn working for a living thing really puts a dent in my artsy-crafty accomplishments. Tomorrow I must venture into a redneck-and-retiree-intensive part of the state to visit a cracking house. Or as we call them, a crack house. Relatively young and well-kept houses that develop cracks are a little known aspect of the Florida lifestyle. I could go into the various reasons it happens, from sinkholes to soil subsidence to sub-surface conditions, but while I find this geeky construction stuff fascinating, nobody else does.

We have the wonderful D through next Wednesday. I don't know what happens on Thursday.

Knitting - blue felted bag before bed. Crocheting - All Season Shawl with morning coffee. Both are progressing nicely. I love the shawl. I mean, I love the shawl. It's a pattern I will probably make over and over, like a trusty favorite afghan pattern, but not in this fingering weight cotton - not that it's not glorious, but it's going to take a gazillionbillion rows of it to make a shawl large enough to offer actual coverage. but even though it's now getting fairly substantial it's still light and scrunchy and drapey, everything you'd think a cotton shawl wouldn't be. Softball Cotton, how I love you.