I still haven't been able to do any sewing; the lack of it is bad for my mental health. I might get grumpy if I don't get the borders on that quilt soon!
I've been quilting in every available spare moment, a rush order for one of our favourite customers; she needs a quilt as a gift for a friend, and her trip to Sydney won't take place until the quilt is finished. So I've been working on it, and two small quilts, for the last few days. We bind her quilts as well, so it's not just a simple quilting job, and I had another binding job to do on a big quilt; I've been in the workroom under a mountain of quilt, and it's a good thing the AC is working well. It will have a hissy fit when the temperature gets into the 40s, but for now it's doing it's job.
Dolly has been lying in a comfy chair the whole time, keeping an eye on me as I work, and asking to go for walks, but there was no time for that. Last night I'd had enough, and we went to Port Broughton for some R&R. It was a lovely evening, with the tide in, and both dogs got wet and had a wonderful time.
Today I need to finish the bindings on the small quilts, pick up Pippi so I can have her while Mereth goes to Adelaide for a grandson's 4th birthday (4 already!!), get everything assembled for DB so he can finish the screen door installation, then go round his place for tea. He'll be here early to get to work, so I'd better get a good night's sleep. That's my day mapped out.
Is anybody else sick of being told "Sitting is the new smoking"? What is that supposed to mean? Am I supposed to feel guilty because I sit down to sew or work on the computer; and, if it cuts years off your life, how come the average life-span is increasing? Scientists need to find something else to obsess about. Also, I'm told I MUST sleep at least 7 hours a night, or my brain will react like a drunk teenager and I'll die sooner; great, now I have to sleep a third of my life, and the other two thirds I have to stand up. Excuse me if I'm not charmed by that thought. (Oooooh, I am grumpy today....)