Today tastes like chicken. Tastes just like yesterday, and just like tomorrow. I could put sauce on it to alter the flavor, but I'd still be left with chicken.
And here it is a week later. The yoga mat bag has a zipper installed in it--one of Southwest Trading's rhinestone zippers so it really looks like Barbie takes up yoga. Hee. I just need to sew the strap on, and it's done. No pictures--it really looks exactly like the photo from before. Honest. Only with a strap.
Spent the weekend finishing up odds and ends. Cleaned the paper studio--can't believe how hard I was resisting doing that. Fifteen minutes later, and I could actually find everything--like put my hands on it. Spent a while out there putting together a squishie bag for a birthday gal, finishing up some ATC's for a challenge swap, and getting an Xmas exchange bag together.
It's really been the weekend to finish. Not that I'm complaining. I finished a small art project for a collaborative piece--a knitted swatch of lace with a little pin-size doll and some embellishments.
Ran a batch of numbers through random.org--realized that I'd spaced out pulling up a number for next time two-three times, and then had remembered to do it the next day. Which is good, I haven't misplaced the habit of writing this, even when I wasn't being sally-on-top-of-it, but at the same time, I've found that if it's on the calendar, I'm more likely to see and do whatever it is.
Nothing exciting to the world at large. The metaphor for this weekend is sitting on the couch, puzzling over lace, wondering why, if I have the right number of stitches, nothing lines up. Then realizing that the markers need to move on this row. Nothing earthshattering, nothing that will affect anything outside the living room. But that understanding makes all the difference in proceeding with the project.