Out to pasture

I have no pictures for this little ditty of a story I'm going to tell, so here are some unrelated ones of my current dolls-in-progress.  You don't mind, do you?


I'm a coffee drinker, but Mr. Gadget insists on drinking tea.  He has one of those electric kettles that boils his tea water on-the-quick.  He's a man who hates to wait.

In recent days the kettle has begun to sing. It's not supposed to do that.  It's not a pleasant sound.  It has also taken to leaking, so once the puddle has cooled it must be wiped up.

"I think it's time to toss the ol' kettle and get a new one," I suggested to him just this morning.  "You know, when I get to the age where I'm singing and leaking you'll know it's time to put me in the home."

So I must confess, I've been sewing instead of blogging lately.  I'm whipping up a few things for the Christmas craft show at the old hotel.  The organizer of the show, a nice lady named Georganne, must know I'm a sucker for compliments.

"I want you to sew, sew, sew," she told me.  "It just wouldn't be a great show without your characters!"  In fact, she said I could even deliver a few last-minute guys on the first day of the show.  So I decided I'd make a hundred or so.  Well, maybe not.  I'll try for an even dozen.  But I won't be sewing tomorrow.  Tomorrow I'm going here with my knitting buddies.  Please don't tell Georganne.