Lookit me, mom, I’m typing!  Well ok actually, everybody except Stalkermom and any of you out there with extremely mom-like tendencies lookit me.  Otherwise avert your eyes, I haven’t figured out yet whether I’m going to regret this later or not.

I have a vitally important reason for attempting this though… I have received new information regarding my broken arm.  I’ve been saying all along that the responsible sheep (who I am pretty sure was Chloe, but what do I know, I was lying on the ground waiting for the pieces of the world to re-assemble) was innocent; that it was an accident rather than a malicious attack.  Now, however, the truth has been revealed – my sheep was under the malevolent mind-control of my (thus) brand-new arch-nemesis Dani, crafty podcaster and villain extraordinaire.

Yes, in traditional arch-villainous fashion, Dani has admitted to her nefarious scheme.  Unfortunately the whole thing was retroactive, so I was unable to take advantage of her speechifying to dodge the sheep and save my own arse.  Or in this case, arm.  We may still need a little work perfecting this nemesis thing.  However!  Now I know to be on the lookout.  It is clearly my duty, as well as my new means of procrastinating getting anything real done, to keep my eye on this girl.  Society must be warned about her underhanded attempts to take over (or at least over-analyse) the crafting world, not to mention future attempts on my own well-being.  Or possibly I could just remember to take my pills and damp down this paranoia – but where’s the fun in that?

If you’re wondering what the hell I’m talking about right now – well, I’m not going to try and explain it here, you’ll just have to go listen to the Craft Culture podcast and try to figure it out.  But be warned!  She will try to charm you with her approachable personality, her so-familiar to so many of us artsy instability, her multiple projects on the go, her many talents… Don’t be deceived!  She is a charming, talented, crazy Monster! Beware!

Speaking of monsters, last monday was the final day of Workin’ Mom In The Sweatshop, and it all went very well.  See, I was working on this show.  Moliere.  Two one-acts, in fact.  Planning to be done on March 31.  (Which I totally would have been, by the way, even CK admits it, and she always mocks my sewing-in-the-car-on-the-way-to-the-event tendencies).  And then, the arm.  Ever tried to costume a show single-handedly, as it were?  I mean, I do it all the time in the euphemistic sense, but literally?  Not happening.  Even if I hadn’t been ricocheting between Horrible Pain and Stoned on Percoset, it was not going to happen.  So to my very great relief (because I was going to have to ask her and hated to do so) CK offered to step in and finish the sewing.  Followed a week of crazy back-breaking (unfortunately a little too actually back-hurting in CK’s case) work, but we did it.  And we didn’t even fight.  Yes, we had some lively debates about the horrors that pass for embellishment in the 17th century, but that’s just because they’re ugly.

So here’s a quick taste – I have a lot of photos but haven’t actually looked at all of them yet, so only a couple today.  And I’m going to just post them and cut this off abruptly, because it has just come to my attention that I cannot actually type this much yet.  So enjoy the pretty pictures – I’m going to go crack a Guinness and mutter at Dani under my breath.

One last note, and then I am seriously diving for that Guinness – that last gingham dress was 100% Clare Kilpatrick.  I had a notional idea of where I wanted to go with it, but had done nothing at all about it, and when I showed up the following day (and by “showed up” I mean called and said “mommy can I have a ride now” because nobody will let me drive yet), there it was.  In case there was anybody left anywhere who doubted that I come by my crazy fibre tendencies honestly.