So much to be grateful for

Janette in Oz sent me an apron for my birthday! It's such fun - pink and green and three different fabrics with a pocket which is absolutely essential in an apron, don't you think? It just delights me no end and I plan on wearing it to the big Mar. 14 knitting soiree. Squeee!! This is not your mother's apron!

I have finally finished the last of my sewing frenzy and gotten the machine put away. Here is a comforter I made from orange and brown napkins picked up at an estate sale for $3. For batting, I used a machine-washable sleeping bag that has lived, unused, in our garage for fifteen years and has been in my posession for some fifteen years before that. I ripped off the zipper, and it makes a cushy comforter batt.

Using a precious quarter yard of art-deco print fabric in tan and peach, with some grey trouser scraps, and the last of my random batt scraps, I made yet another tea cozy. Daphne doesn't care as much for this one since it doesn't set off her own personal beauty as well, but I think it's rather elegant.

Signs of spring! The neighbor's weeping pussywilos just beginning to bud out. Guess it's in the kittenwillow stage right now.

Signs of spring! The daffs are stretching and swelling, growing eager to bloom. Any day, now! Any day.

Blessings on all you folks who are under the weather, figuratively or literally. How unfair is it that the East coast is getting hammered with yet more snow, and my daphne's are starting to bloom? It's like TOTALLY!

You can come visit me any old time. Just be sure to wear your boots, because it's the dust bunny mating season right about now, and you never know when a lust-stricken stud bunny may mistake your leg for the object of his affections. And persistent? You may THINK it's just a wad of cat hair stuck to your cuff, but oh no. It's bunny love! Now, for gosh sakes, don't let one follow you home. The breed of dustbunnies inhabiting my house is particularly fecund and robust. Let just one of those little studs loose in your place, and there'll be little bunlets popping up all over no matter HOW good a housekeeper you are. I used to be an adequate housekeeper, but now I am a broken woman, and slob is my middle name. And (Shudder) I think - in my sleep - well - what else could explain the way my hair is starting to behave? I mean, if that Polish boy could turn into a giant cockroach, why wouldn't my hair turn into a giant dust bunny?