A Bag Before Breakfast

If learning new information keeps the brain young, then I'll likely turn out as well as my mother.

Due to the positive reaction to the piece in the Free Press, I think I'll have to get a little more savvy with the computer. So far I've hoodwinked my manager.... husband to clack away at his computer to figure out how to compile a "group" in my e-mail list. I know.... Not exactly computer techy stuff. But keep in mind that I still don't really know how to use the cell phone. And apparently I don't know how to read a calendar either, seeing as I told you all to buy a paper on April 27, never once noticing that all of April and most of May had actually passed away while I was digging myself out from under a growing pile of fabric remnants...

It's like my best dream is coming true with its evil twin sister: the nightmare of my absent-minded spinniness. And you're all along for the colourful ride.

I've been having the nightmares regularly of late. Nightmares of misplaced children and small animals. Nightmares of endless packing and moving and never ever catching up because there are still four or five floors to the mansion that I have to pack up. Nightmares of discovering that there are huge holes in the attic, and there has been rain water dripping onto and molding some truely rich and amazing blue and gold tapestry fabric. (That I really do see in full colour, nightly)

This morning I woke with a start, fearing that I'd overslept and had a long line of children, small animals, and baghounds snaking through my back yard. It was 5:45.

So, a bag was made before breakfast.
My friend Gloria came after breakfast.
Said something about someone's birthday and something about a perfect bag.

I'm heading up to the attic to look under the eaves for that blue and gold tapestry. Maybe if I cut around the mouldy bits I could get a bag made out of it before bedtime.