OK, so it's not "The Year of Living Dangerously". She had a better agent than I do!
The weekend per se was 3.5 weeks ago. The pictures, however, are the result of this afternoon's tryptophan-induced wooziness, compounded by a very pleasant Date #2 with Brother Abacus last night.
For your viewing pleasure, we present:
And a detail:
Feather and Fanning Myself [a shrug for the perimenopausal woman who likes to flirt nearly as much as she likes to dance]:
With a close-up of the buttons I went back to JoAnn's to buy, grand-opening madness notwithstanding:
Me, laughing, with bad hair from post-turkey napping on the kids' living room floor while BittyBit tried to figure out if I was really asleep, or just playing.
And a back view. I know, I know, all these weeks with only verbiage from me, and now comes the deluge.
October's quilt blocks, stitched up just in time for our monthly run to the quilt shop, shown with the finished blocks for November:
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!