WHAT. Have. I. Done???

I'm sorry to have kept you on tenterhooks (whatever they are). I got sidetracked by some sewing room reorganization, and then my laptop decided to take the afternoon off. I finally figured out that the hard drive was nearly full up, and so every time I booted up, I would immediately lock up. I cleared some space and for now, it's OK. I do so hate Vista, though. We were lured with the promise of "NO MORE HOURGLASS!" and indeed, that is so. Now I see hours of a slowly spinning circle instead.

The next thing is, I need to apologize to those dear ladies at Quilters' Cupboard. Yes, it's true that they are all, "Hi, how you doin' Kathi" and then mysteriously woo you into buying way too much fabric, but at least it's Just Fabric.

Now, Rob at the Cotton Ball, on the other hand. He is a whole nother critter altogether. He is all, "Hey, I'm just a surfer dude and a quiltmaker, and I have these real cute kids, and did you hear about the time my wife and I got in trouble for dancing at a Santana concert?" oh yes, he is all, "I'm just hanging out here today in my Mom's shop" and "Look at this embroidery I designed" and well, you get the picture. So on Friday I take my serger and one of my sewing machines in there for routine servicing, and we shoot the breeze, just like always, and everything just seems cool and normal and then WHAM! The next thing I know, I am all signing up to buy a new sewing machine. Not just ANY new sewing machine, either, oh no. I am agreeing to buy one of those Wonder Machines. See, they were having this huge sale on Super Bowl weekend, and everything in the store was SO CHEAP that I would be just plain NUTS not to buy that machine. I saved enough money in one day on that thing to support a small family of ferrets for 2 years.

How does he DO that? The last time something like this happened, I went in to buy a cabinet for my Pfaff and it ended up that it was ever so much better an idea to buy a new machine AND a cabinet because with all the discounts and give-backs and what have you, it was practically cheaper to buy the whole kit and kaboodle.

Anyway, I have it, and (grumble, grumble, grumble) I have to admit that it is the MOST AMAZING MACHINE OF ANY KIND EVER IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE! It's the real reason I haven't been able to blog, or sleep, or leave the house for days. I just keep threading this thing up and watching it do stuff. I never want to do another thing but sew on this machine. That's it. My nirvana. So, here it is, and if you don't hear from me for a year or so, just look for me under a mountain of thread and fabric scraps, with a big smile on my face.

I left my heart (also a kidney and part of a lung) in San Francisco

Well, no. But that's what I would have had to leave had I bought what I really wanted at Britex. That place is gorgeous, and it has every kind of fabric you ever dreamed of and a lot you couldn't even dream of, not to mention buttons. I mean, buttons! WO! But dang, is that place expensive! There were some lovely lengths of yardage that you could hold in your hand and ponder, "Hmmmm. Shall I make a handbag with this, or BUY A NEW CAR?"

I couldn't leave with nothing (well, I couldn't!) so I headed straight for the 4th floor, where the remnants reside. Now, at Britex, the remnants aren't what you and I call remnants. I bought a couple of "remnants" that were more than 2 yards each. And they still weren't what I would call cheap, but at least I had the illusion of getting a bargain, because they mark what the price would have been right there on the tag: "Regular price: Lung, kidney, left arm, and your firstborn spawn. Sale price: Just the spawn."

It was a soggy, soggy day in the City by the Bay. Rick abandoned me there while he went to a meeting all day, which was the purpose of our visit. Usually, being abandoned on the streets of San Francisco would be pure joy, but on this day, my visions of strolling about and being the bon vivant were washed away into the gutter as I slogged from here to there looking for a place to stay dry. I sat in Borders long enough to read all the latest craft and sewing books I've been wanting to see, but since the only empty upholstered chair was in a remote corner between two former close associates of Charlie Manson, I had to sit on the floor near the remains of someone's Subway lunch. I wasn't the only one searching for a place to stay dry, I guess.

I finally landed in the lobby at the lovely Hyatt on Union Square, and proceeded to make a little corner my own. I made a sad little pile of my wet jacket and rain gear and took out all my reading material and my Diet Cokes, and then discovered that the Hyatt is a T-Mobile Hot Spot, so I could check in on my e-mail (boring). By the time Rick came for me, I was there in my own little Hobo Town. All I needed was a scruffy dog and a campfire. Did I mention I was also eating a soggy hot dog from the street cart? Well.

But then, as women often must, I had to transform in mere minutes from street tough to refined lady (not exactly refined in my case) so that we could go to the group dinner. We bailed our car out of the overpriced parking lot, and while Rick drove across town, I stripped off my wet clothes and changed right there in the front seat. He warned me once that a bus was coming alongside, and I said that if the people on that bus could get a thrill out of seeing me in my underpants then they were welcome to it.

We ended the day having an oh so lovely dinner with the oh so loveliest people, and I got my chance at bon vivantness after all. If only those lovely people could have seen me in my own little Hyatt Hobo Town. Or in my underpants in the front seat. Oh my.