By this time tomorrow, I will know hardanger . . . I hope. I am off to Reading, PA, to take a class at Stitch N Stuff. I know, odd to drive 150 miles to take a class I can take at Stitching Post and not blow 5 gallons of gas, but I've had a really bad week, and the chance to go to an "exotic" LNS, well, that's exciting and worth it, frankly. I've wanted to learn this for a while, I think it will help me with those Victoria's Sampler projects Mom bought--she's rumbling because I haven't started any of them for her yet--and I should take some classes, get out with other people. I realize I am starting to hole up in myself again, like I did when I was little, and I need to cut that off now.
So I'm off. It does feel funny to head up there, when I'll be back next week, but maybe I can find some cool, new-to-me places. I consider that fabric store with all the cat fabric to be a treasure. And I'll have a new craft. The class won't stink. Nothing would be as bad as the knitting class from HELL at CATS 2 years ago.