This Is What The Problem Is

This is what's taking all of my brain space and then some. I do a bit of stitching at work when I can and I plan and plan and plan and think important stitching type things in between loan-thinking-nesses... bank details only a pedantic, sadistic, awful person could imagine to require of me... real-estate-people conversations with cards-close-to-breasts and their expensive, sugar-coated duplicities to avoid (which implies knowing what they might be)... and stressful negotiations that may, juat may be bearing fruit. We may have almost nearly bought ourselves a fixer-upper with a fixer-uppers-type garden. And WE are The Fixer-Uppers from way back. The Gardeners, the imaginers who are already disagreeing (read 'negotiating') about where the lounge-room should ultimately be. And what colour the walls?

This is the VERY WORST house in the very best street/area. Beautiful views that I can't wait to show you. If I don't fall through the half-rotton verandah, I'll take a photo. If we get it, that is.

I miss you all. I miss the sharing and the caring... and it won't be long before I can show you my new Nice Girls. Perhaps to be called The Good Girls. Or The Nice and Good Girls? No murderers sequins here.

While I'm at it, I have an appointment at the NGV to see some of our illustrious 'Goldwork'. I imagine anyone who was interested or available or wished to could come with me??? November 7th at 11am. Let me know. It'd be nice to have someone to OOOh and AAAh! with.