Damp tissue dramas: This time, tears of joy fall like rain.
Yes. Yes. I did cut out my pattern last night. I did. I was confused by the exterior jags at the bottom of each possible length, though. Why, I wondered, was there a protrusion where the shorts, capris, slacks ended? Why? So. I met a sewing bud for coffee, and she explained. The hem will pucker otherwise. Oh. Duh. You'll be happy to know the light switched on later today. Oh. Oh! I get it. I do. Really.
But. I have other topics of interest. To me, at any rate. The bathroom. You remember it. I know you do. You hang on every facet of my life. Of course you do. Don't you? Don't puncture my self-esteem if you don't. Please. I'm easily wounded. I am. Don't make me reach for those Puffs.
Well, it's almost done. Finally. Andrew, the tile master, above, is very pleased. And so am I. His trusty sidekick, Pat, is standing in the shower. The bee-yoo-tee-ful shower. Pat is wearing my favorite t-shirt slogan: Genius by birth, slacker by choice. A gift from his mommy. The tile pattern in the shower is his design, inspired by my floor design. Love those 12" by 20" floor tiles. Ummm hmmm. I do. You can see them in the pic with Andrew. In the background. Behind his smilin' mug. Love the master bath. I do. Now. Tiny, yes. So true. The size of a Twinkie. But also, well, rather attractive. If I do say so myself. Doncha think?