Honestly! I really would have had something to show you...

... because yesterday I was all geared up. The creative mojo, had made an appearance, and it really was time to address the artwork (I use that term lightly) in the bedroom. After all I only changed the colour scheme a year ago! So I knew what I was going to do and everything, and got all my bits together.

Hmmm ... oops forgot the staple gun. Silly me! Will just pop and get that and then crack on with this project. Oh. Okaaay, not in that drawer. (Chew nail and frown) Or that one.
Right, lets see...

Fast forward 24 hours, and I'm exhausted. Not to mention exhausted every possibility of WHERE IT COULD BE ?

Which meant I had to pull a few things out of drawers and cupboards, which resulted in a complete and total spring clean. Great yeah. But I still haven't found my staple gun, which means I will have to go and buy a new one. I know not a big deal in the big scheme of things, but its like an itch. I just keep going back to the same places in that futile search. Losing stuff is my pet peeve. I should probably keep things more organised and then I wouldn't be in the fortunate position of having a clean space. Another side effect is, I have a whole drawer full of presents that I had bought to "put away", which I forgot existed. (I could probably do Christmas all over again). The Dymo which I got in October got a bit of a run out, so here is the result of my 24 hours of back breaking, bad language, sneezing search....

I didn't do a before picture, but I'm tellin ya, you would be impressed with the
transformation!



I can't say how long they will stay so pretty, but God loves a trier.





What can happen when a woman with PMT is let loose with a Dymo labeller!





See that big square thing? That's a desk, and there is even a computer on it. Amazing what you can find!

I'm tempted to frame it!

CUE THE AFTERMATH...

I'm thinking Mr Busy might have a bit of job getting in the front door...

And upstairs...

Ahem. Or downstairs for that matter.

I do have to ask myself though. How much stuff do I need?

Nothing to see here folks.. keep moving please...

Remember Billy?
Billy and I have been getting on famously over the last week or so. I've been sewing like mad, and I just didn't notice him getting grumpier and grumpier. I suppose I was off in that euphoric sewing space. Too selfish to even realise that perhaps I was taking my faithful sewing companion for granted.
Then on Friday night - and its not like he had been to the pub and was picking for a fight or anything - he just suddenly made this awful growling noise and then stopped. Stating on his LED screen that he had had enough he couldn't go on any longer like this. (Actually his precise words were, "The Safety Device has been Activated")
In other words his motor had locked up!!!
I consulted our relationship manual immediately. But all the coercing in the sewing room just did not work. We had a really tense 24 hours where I would keep coming back just begging for a second chance, repeatedly consulting our relationship manual, furiously chewing my nails for a positive outcome.
In the end we both decided that it might be a good idea just to have a break from each other for a while. I have heard of these "breaks" where they come back, but never quite the same. And it worries me.
I'm dropping him off at the analysts for verification that we are doing the right thing tomorrow. My stomach is just a knot of nerves at the thought of it. But if we are to go forward in this sewing relationship I know that it's a lonely agony that I will have to bear.
I'm hoping that the "Spotlight" on this problem will bring him back a better Billy, and me a more appreciative sewer....

You would think it's spring - yeah right!

In fact on the 1st of June it is officially the first day of winter, but it's been pretty brass monkeys around here lately, and everything looks a mess outside and I have to say it does inside as well, so on that note I shall walk you through my funspace (office/sewing room). You see everytime I walk in here I think I was just becoming more depressed with the state of it, so with Saturday morning vigour I went for it. It didn't start out as a full scale attack, but just a bit of a go at the buttons, because any minute now I was going to knock them over and then end up with a pin in my knee while kneeling down trying to pick them up, and we all know what that feels like, so it was time for a pre-emptive attack...

It was one of those situations where everything was so precariously balanced on top of a slippery plastic bag, that it all threatened to go shooting across the floor should you breath near it.


You know I'm almost too embarassed to show you, but I'm keepin it real ...

In a previous life this was known as a "fabric stash". More like fabric trashed!

and I kind of knew where everything was, but I only mean kind of knew.

And here is the reason I get myself in this situation in the first place

So this ...

became this

and this was never going to work

so became ...

Not quite there...

but by the magic of television...

And because I'm so honest I am going to show you my dirty little secret, but it's just between you and me, okay?

My little cupboard under the stairs, which would give even Harry Potters rellies, The Dursleys nightmares!

And of course there is the post battle carnage to clear up...

...because I can hear Mr Busy muttering something about "someone breaking a leg on these stairs in a minute".

But to be honest I think I might need a bit of a lie down, because I'm shattered