I know you probably don’t want to hear this, or read this or just don’t care. But it’s my blog and I’ll whine if I want to.


So, I sat down at the computer to write. And write was what I planned to do. I have, instead, had intrusive thoughts of my loom (sitting just below me) BEGGING to be fondled, surfed Ravelry and checked email. I am now looking at Crackbook on dial up – that’s how procrastinatey I am. Why? you ask. And even if you don’t, I’m pretending you did. Well, because for years, most of them really, I wrote. I wrote all of the time. I wrote when I should have been doing other things. And now I feel like I should be writing but I really just want to weave. Or spin. Or felt. Or knit. 

Time to go weave something.

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