The Mess that stole her brain.

the mess comes back to bite me on the butt

I TOLD you not cleaning up the studio before sitting down to work would come back to bite me on the butt. I started looking for something, can't remember what it was but I got terribly sidetracked by the things I did find. I opened up the big plastic tub that I stored most of my pieces in after the Norcross Festival to find that some things had shifted in transport and needed to be pressed. What they really need is to be hung up on the walls but not before somebody sees to the paint inside this house. Then I found a squad of UFOs unfinished objects, for the uninitiated) and decided to assign them gift status as Christmas is breathing down my neck. I started machine quilting the largest piece, sewing away at Nascar speeds only to find that for more than a few laps, my bobbin tension had gone all loopy. I wondered what that clanky noise was coming from the machine. I promise to pay better attention to noises from under the hood, a lesson I should have learned twenty years ago when I let my VW fall to wrack and ruin by running it without a muffler.

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