It took me years and years of trial efforts to work out that there is absolutely no knitting triumph I can achieve that my husband will think is worth being woken up for.
A clean house is a sign of a broken sewing machine.
My biggest fear is that when I die my husband will sell all my craft supplies for what I told him they cost.
I just don’t want to look back and think that I should have
bought that fabric.
Of course I am working. It is a power tool with thread.
I am not a hoarder. I just need a bigger craft room.