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A friend kicked and hit my dog.....

1/17/2018

Written Dec 23rd, 2017

It’s 5:30 AM, I’m wide awake with no sleep in sight. Over the past week or so I’d been going through a period of insomnia but tonight is different, tonight I am haunted by an incident that happened earlier in the evening that has snatched away my peace of mind like a seasoned pick pocket. An incident happened that churns my brain into a vortex of disbelief and hurt......

My little black toy poodle Jake has been known to nip one of our friends and I’ve never understood why, as others come and go without incident. There had been one time when Jake rushed at him barking and the friend grabbed and pushed him forcibly to the floor in a Cesar Millan style of reprimand, but it was done roughly and it choked him. I hollered for him to stop but he didn’t and only when I reached to grab Jake away did the man let him go. When done properly the dog is calmly put on his side and then held by the back of the head as one dog would do to the other in a pack situation, not forced down violently so that the dog’s legs are twisted and pinned nor cutting off their oxygen. I was upset, but because nothing like this had ever happened before I brushed it off as an isolated incident but vowed never to bring him to their home again.

So earlier this evening, the man and his wife, long-time friends of ours arrived at our house and Jake rushed the man and nipped his leg. It wasn’t a full on bite, it doesn’t break the skin or cause bruising, its more of a surprise than a pain. Usually we are diligent and hold him as he barks furiously at this man until he is in the door and all is settled, but this time we were distracted with other friends and didn’t make it to the door in time.

So the man was nipped, I saw it happen. Then I watched in horror as the man kicked Jake in the ribs, sending him across the floor up against the cupboards and then moved toward him to kick him again.   I screamed “Don’t kick my dog!”, Jake is as big as a minute compared to a six foot human and his little body is vulnerable. I rushed in and scooped Jake up before the foot connected for a second blow and carried him towards the living room. The man followed me and when I turned around, he was right there, drew his arm back and hit Jake in the face. The look on the man’s face ruffled me, it was pure hate. He was not the man I thought I knew. He was a stranger.
Shielding Jake from further assault, I ran into the downstairs powder-room, closed and locked the door and sat on the toilet seat. Jake was whimpering. I was sobbing.

I might be able to understand and perhaps forgive a knee jerk reaction to the nip, but trying to get in a second kick and failing that, following me and administering a blow to Jake’s head is totally a different story.

The evening was to celebrate hubby’s and my birthday and now it lay in ruins. Hubby, came in to see how I am and asked if I’m coming out but my blood pressure was soaring, my head was pounding and anger was breeding progeny in the blood vessels of my face until it was painted pure red. I told him I wouldn’t be coming out; I couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen. I was terribly upset and then wondered why hubby didn’t ask the man to leave but I guess I can’t judge when I cowered as well. We both couldn’t comprehend what happened. Call it shock I guess.

Years of past friendship with this man tried to balance itself against the abuse of our dog, and even though the man held no significance there I sat on a toilet seat, hiding from the reality of what just happened. I waited there for a bit then went upstairs with Jake. They all saw me as I walked by, no one said anything.   Henri, our cream boy followed us and I sat on the bed to mull over what happened, again and again and again and again....... I don’t condone Jake nipping, but the reaction didn’t fit the incident and it wasn’t a fair battle, like bringing a tooth pick to a gun fight. I won’t have my dog injured or beaten. How dare someone come into my home and attack one of my pets. One of my children!

I’m ashamed of myself now. I’ve written enough in the past that you all know I don’t do controversy well but my dog was abused and I didn’t stand up for him. When I told some friends they were appalled and told me they would have thrown him out by the scruff of his neck. I can’t stand the thought of him getting away with what he did but I suppose, in the long run, he won’t because if he valued our friendship at all there will be a loss.

It was the shock of it all. It numbed me but I should have spoken my mind, not ran and hid. My past comes up to haunt me once again. Being constantly bullied by an older sibling and then married to a man that abused me, stops me short but there are times when you have to step out of your past and stand up for what you believe in, defend the ones you love and I failed. This will be one of my bigger regrets and it will haunt me to know I didn’t fight for my precious little dog.

So now I’m in a quandary and my brain won’t settle for sleep to relieve me of dark thoughts. I can’t stop the chant, “Oh my god, my friend kicked and hit my dog”, “oh my god my friend kicked and hit my dog”. The fact that Jake didn’t suffer serious injury was a miscalculation on the man’s part. He clearly meant to inflict pain, I could see it in his face. Hubby tells me that he’s witnessed the guy kicking his own dog so there is a mentality that is bred in. He obviously has no respect for small animals or understanding of why they do what they do. Dogs can read people better than humans, Jake knows....

I view my dogs as my children, I love them as if they were born from my womb. Now when I think of this guy I see a black heart, one that can never be trusted around Jake again. Now that Jake has been hurt by this man, he will remember it until he takes his last breath.

So I stayed upstairs for the next hour until he and his wife left, listening to him laugh and drink our Scotch and eat our food. When I’m upset with someone I can pretend that it’s all okay, I can’t act as if nothing’s happened to spare his feelings when mine are in pieces, but I am ashamed that I hid.

So now I’m left to deal with the aftermath. I can’t get it out of my head. His actions. His face. Never once did he apologize, hubby said his wife said he shouldn’t have done it, but no one tried to speak to me to smooth it over or check on Jake to make sure he was okay. That hurt as well but maybe it’s telling, perhaps the value of our friendship was one sided. Their host was clearly absent from her own birthday gathering and they didn’t care. The other friend came up to check on me, my hubby told me later that she told the man that I view my dogs as my children, a fact that he knew already. Hubby is upset that this happened as well, we’ve renamed the scotch the man was drinking, “Kick The Dog Scotch” a black humoured, lest we forget kind of thing....

Now when I think back and remember things this friend said in the past like “It’s only a dog” when I spoke of the death of a past poodle,” and how he used to laugh, almost brag when their troubled dog bit (not nipped but full on bit) every dog it ever came in contact with, I’m wondering if my feelings for him clouded my instinct. Perhaps he wasn’t adding humour to somber events to remove the sting, but telling the truth and masking it with comedy.

But all the assumptions aside, the ugly fact remains that my little dog was hurt, kicked and then hit in the face, there is nothing more to say......Jake comes first, last and always. Time to find new friends.

52 Comments

Christmas Stockings and other stuff....

1/11/2018

2 Comments

Life is back to normal. All of the Christmas glitz and glitter is packed away and my house is back in order. A natural tree is lovely but oh the work; remembering to water it daily, all the vacuuming as it sheds worse than a Saint Bernard and it displaced my favourite sitting/hooking spot in front of the window. Our living room is small so there is only one place to put the tree and then we have to work around it like an insensitive lodger; from the far end of the sofa, I could barely see the TV through the outstretching limbs! Several times I had to prune it back a few inches so it didn’t obstruct the view of the screen.   We usually go for skinny, but this year we got to the tree yard late and the pickings weren’t slim, pardon the pun, so we had to take a fuller bodied one that was really too large for the room and the lights and ornaments we had to adorn it
When I was small we went Christmas tree hunting in the woods, a family outing where we all decided on the ‘one’ and then dad chopped it down and we dragged it to the car, tied it on the roof and made our way home; all part of the Christmas magic. Now trees are precut and leaning up against a fence, a trailer or in tubes in the ground, and you have to stand them up and turn them around to view from all sides to select the one that best suits your idea of what the perfect tree looks like.

I’m not a Charlie Brown tree kind of girl. I want one expertly pruned and shapely without bare spots or double tops. I want a natural green fir, not one with brownish tips that looks like it’s been starved of water or a tinted one in that nasty bluish green spray. I’ve never desired a pine tree and only got stuck with a cat spruce once, the smell emanating from it was a close cousin to a litter box, insuring a quick whiff of any tree before we pay the man.

I must admit the romance of finding the perfect tree, bringing it home and decorating it has its magical moments and tugs on lovely Christmas memories from childhood. But, and there’s always the but, after it shares its wonderful essence and the season is over, I’m saddened as I disrobe it of beautiful glass ornaments, unstring the lights and prepare to remove her limbs to make it easier to get it outside without shedding its needles from pillar to post. As I snip off the branches I mourn it. A tree is a living thing and here I’m dismembering it limb by limb like some sort of coniferous serial killer. Sure the tree doesn’t cry out but it weeps sap that permeates the air like an aromatic scream.

It doesn’t seem fair to pluck it from nature for such a short duration in the name of tradition. Every year I swear I’ll invest in a synthetic one, they look so real now you hardly don’t know the difference and they come prewired with LED bulbs, eliminating the most exasperating element of decorating a tree, fighting with tangled strings of lights and burned out bulbs.

Of course, the scent isn’t there but I’d be happy knowing I saved a real tree. I’m weird I know. Having feelings for inanimate objects leaks into everything I do. There’s a boat right now that fell over in the wind on our Government Wharf and every time I drive by it I almost cry for its misfortune. This boat isn’t used in the sailing season, she sits on the mooring ball year after year, without a sail and now she’s forever broken, lonely and cold, it almost breaks my heart.   Her mast is twisted and bent, lying across the ground snapped like a twig, and her keel is cracked. Such a thing of beauty and pleasure, now a pile of plastic, wood and scrap metal.

I didn’t realize it at the time but I fought hooking over the holidays. Every time I thought I should dig out my stocking and pull a few loops I found excuses not to. Normally I hook while watching Netflix but I sat there wasting time with my hands at my sides instead of working. It didn’t dawn on me until after the tree was taken down and my favourite chair was repositioned in front of the living room window to the why I didn’t hook.    I like this particular chair; it fits my rump nicely and has enough stiffness to sit up straight. My legs are short so it’s low enough I don’t need a footstool, everything feels right, fits right and allows for hours of hooking comfort.

So the tree displaced my spot and chair and my princess subconscious didn’t like it, so it found plenty of excuses to leave the hooking in the cupboard.   Funny how we have preferences, habits, and rhythms to lock us into the way we do things. I guess that’s where the old dog and new tricks thing came about.

So now I’m working on my Hooker Stocking again. Hooking the pillow for a friend for Christmas meant I had no time to work on my own stocking so Santa didn’t have anything to fill. A lump of coal might have gotten the light parchment background dirty so I’ll have to be extra nice to avoid that this year.

I’m really happy to report that others have been hooking stockings as well. Three photos have come in to excite me, one all the way from Japan. I didn’t design this one but Yoshiho Nara has graciously offered to add this pattern to our long list of available designs and I couldn’t be more excited. She is not only a beautiful rug hooker, her designs are delightful and I am proud to list them on the website.

The other two are the Chihuahua and Cardinal patterns. We now have over 60 stocking designs! There are very few that haven’t been hooked either by me or others but I’m hopeful they will all get done in the future. I love scrolling down the page, each one is so different there is enough variety to suit all, but if you want something custom designed I would be over the moon to come up with a new pattern for you to add to the collection. Smaller projects like these are quick to whip up and a delight to offer to your family, a perfect project for grandma to make for the grandbabies, a gift for hubby or self, an heirloom that will be used each year, hung with anticipation in hopes that Santa will fill it with wonderful goodies. And, they are a perfect size, not too big to cost a fortune to fill.

Chihuahua Stocking hooked by Robin Stewart

Cardinal Stocking hooked by Lynda Johnston

Designed and hooked by Yoshiho Nara, Japan
Yoshiho's Bunny (left) and Yoshiho's Kitty (right)
Beautiful designs and beautifully hooked! And how about that bunny tail, clever!

2 Comments

Just a "Little" pillow talk....

1/10/2018

4 Comments

You can do so much with a pillow sized rug. Make a chair pad, hang it on the wall, rest it on a trunk, coffee table mat or use it as a cushion for your home. It's rewarding to treat yourself to a smaller project after completing a larger rug, and if you are into selling your hooked items, small seems to trump large items more than not. A tourist, with limited room in their suitcase, will happily pay for a smaller piece, not only for the lessor cost but also for its packing ability. A set of coasters, a trivet, chair pad or pillow will fit nicely among folded clothing without creating a lot of extra weight.    Larger items are often bypassed for the smaller keepsake as only a few of your customers will opt to have the item shipped home, so unfortunately, 95% of them will just walk away.

Besides, who doesn’t love a good pillow? It’s an international accessory for the home, beautiful to look at and comfort for the head. Smaller projects also hook quickly, so there’s instant gratification for your toil. And as for gift giving, it’s much easier to give a project away when it worked up quickly as I recently learned over Christmas, than a rug project that spanned over a year or more.

Finishing the pillow can be as easy as hooking it, although I hear it all the time, how the hooking is fun but sewing on the back is a chore. A lot of rug hookers I’ve talked to farm that job out to local seamstresses, (I’m not sure if that name is politically correct anymore but I’m referring to the wonderful thread wizards that sew out of their homes for a living).
This clever way of finishing a pillow, first came to me by way of Linda Ruth, one of the Main Street Rug Hookers who made beautiful pillows using recycled Pendleton Shirt plackets for the backings. It changed the groan factor to a WOW factor when sewing a back on a pillow, even I could do it!   Using a wool shirt placket means there aren’t any buttons to fuss with or button holes to create because they’re already there! It’s ‘sew’ easy and another way to recycle those fabulous wool shirts.   And even if you are not concerned about making an opening to be able to remove the form, sewing on a solid backing, this technique works for this as well.
Then the brilliant Sue Cunningham took this great idea to another level with her suggestion of hooking the last outside border row around the pillow in a #8 cut strip. This is the row that you will sew the backing to and it also provides a straight line for a guide.

Easy Steps to create the perfect pillow back

Step 1 - Find a complimentary coloured Pendleton shirt (maybe even use a bit of in the pillow front for a custom blending or if you have a shirt that doesn’t match, throw a little dye on it to blend with the rug). Button the shirt and cut out a square the size needed. If the shirt has a pocket on it you can leave it on or carefully remove it with a seam ripper. Cut out this wool backing the same size as the excess backing edge left around the hooked item. (Assuming you have already steamed and zig-zagged 1” out all around your hooked pillow top to cut it out.)
Step 2 –Place the loop side of the hooking with the right side of the placket and pin together.   Usually the placket will run horizontally across the middle of the pillow so make sure it remains straight across but if there is a hole in the shirt or if you tear the material when removing the pocket, cut the front of the shirt so the placket can be positioned higher or lower on the back.   Pin the two pieces together well. I pin the excess backing of the rug and the shirt together and then pin an inch away from where I plan to sew on the inside of the pillow. They have to be well secured together so there is no movement of the two pieces when being put through the sewing machine. If you don’t want to use pins you can baste stitch the two pieces together with a different coloured thread so it is easy to see and pull out later after the machine stitching is completed.

Step 3 - Now work from the back of the hooked side of the pillow and run it through the sewing machine staying in the center of that #8 cut row of loops.  The rug and backing will be thick to sew through so make sure the tension is set properly so there isn’t any bunching and pulling on the shirt underneath as it goes through the machine. Sewing directly down the center of the loop will insure there is no backing showing along the edge when you turn the pillow right side out. The great thing about using a shirt placket, is that you don’t have to leave a gap in the sewing at the bottom of the pillow to later stuff the pillow form in and then hand stitch up the gap.

Step 4 – After you have sewn around the entire pillow trim each corner point off in a diagonal line, leaving at least 1/2" so you don’t have a lot of bulk when you turn the pillow right side out.   Unbutton the placket; turn the pillow right side out, using your finger, a large knitting needle or proddy tool, to push out the corners so they open as much as possible. Steam press the bulkiness out, insert your pillow form and voila you have the easiest pillow imaginable. No sewing the usual gap shut that you struggled to force the pillow form into. How many times have I done this by making that hole too small and then almost tearing it when pushing the form through? No sewing on buttons or making those dreaded button holes or as some do, sewing on Velcro. You have a pillow that opens easily and it is very attractive to view. Your pillow will look professionally put together if you are selling in a boutique or impressing a loved one.

Tip – If backing shows anywhere around the edge use a coloured marker and rub it along the exposed burlap or linen. Markers come in many colours so you can match pretty much any shade. Especially if the border was hooked in dark colours, a bit of burlap or linen peeking through isn’t attractive.

Also, don’t turn your nose up at a linen or cotton shirt to use as a pillow backing. Do like Anne Holmes did by using one of her late father’s shirts to make a pillow for her daughter for Christmas. Not only was it a wonderful match for the hooked top, but a memory. Her daughter said that when she turned the pillow over she instantly started to cry.    She remembered this exact shirt he used to wear and the present means the world to her. Any time she misses him she knows that she can snuggle into the pillow with his shirt and it will be like she is hugging him tight.   What a beautiful sentiment.

4 Comments

2017 Main Street Hooker Christmas Party!

1/8/2018

6 Comments

I've been so busy this season with home and shop that I didn't post our wild, annual Potluck Christmas party pics. We always have a great time filling our bellies and laughing.....a real good time! There were fewer of us this year, due to other commitments and some don't want to do nighttime driving so perhaps another year we will celebrate our camaraderie and love of rug hooking in the daylight hours!

A couple of shots of the hostess in her apron surveying the spread. I do this pot luck event for the leftovers and this year didn't disappoint! Free groceries for a week! HeeHee!

A beautiful arrangement from Seaside Flowers in Lunenburg. thanks Deanna!

Food galore, appetites abundant, a merry time!

Chow down time!

Rubbing elbows with some pretty special people!

Pam slicing the ham. (Upper Left), Sue's festive Tshirt (below left).

Sue sneaking ham to Fiz. Bad girl and I mean Sue!! (Below right)

Nothing like prezzies to bring out the smiles.

Sue hiding the infinity scarf she took off me. Thought no one would want it after she sat on it, but that didn't stop us! I ended up with it! (Below right)

A few candid shots. We're a happy group!

Take note how much that fabulous blue box is passed around during our little game. Everyone wanted it! I think everyone had their hand on it at one time or another. I'd call that the perfect gift!

6 Comments

My holidays....

1/2/2018

6 Comments

Personally, it’s been surprisingly busy this holiday season. Invites out and people in for epic eating and good times. My jeans are definitely snugger, having to open the snap when I sit while my bra cuts into my ribs as if it’s strangling me, definitely the result of too much abundance that needs to be quelled in this new year.

Power outages set the holidays with an unusual tone, harkening us back to our grandparent’s time when candles and oil lamps lit the evenings when one had to invent creative ways to be entertained. In Mahone Bay, our house was lucky with the power coming back on before midnight on the 25th, others in the province weren’t so blessed, surviving days in the cold. In this day and age, removing the creature comfort of heat must have been horrific as we are so used to and spoiled by convenience. We are on a well system, not town utilities, so we didn’t have the luxury of running water to drink or flush toilets, but that was balanced out by having a wood stove to stay warm but talk of buying a generator was a main topic of conversation.

Christmas feasts were delayed or ruined depending on the rate of doneness when the power flickered and then went out around 5:00 pm, but in our house we managed nicely on cheese and crackers by candlelight, hoping the power would be back on for Boxing Day when we planned our big dinner. I saw trouper's posts on FB making the best of their Christmas meals, those that had it mostly prepared before the darkness. One said they made their gravy on the wood stove and then had a wonderful meal with family all around, their table lit with candles and smiles as they celebrated togetherness in the surrounding darkness.

Socializing took its toll on me this year. Too much happening with a calendar filled with invites, especially with our birthday celebrations, hubby’s is the day after mine, so it was a very busy week leading up to Christmas. Something also happened Friday evening that knocked me for a loop and completely stole that night’s sleep. I wrote about it in the wee hours of the morning, needing to get it out before I burst, my fingers were like lightening bolts as the incident’s emotion spewed onto the screen. I’ll post it later when the anger and sadness mellows, but for now I’ll keep it light, I just wanted to help explain the sleep deficit that had been accumulating.

The biggest culprit of sleeplessness was taking on a project earlier in the week to hook a pillow for friends that have Felina, a 30 ft Nonsuch. It was a great idea but it should have been executed weeks before, not run up to Christmas Eve like a train out of control. Seeing 3:00 am a few nights in a row I struggled to finish it in a timely fashion which pushed back any Christmas prep I needed to do. No presents were wrapped or cookies baked as my addiction pushed me on, displacing things needing done and allowing a cavern to open up for stress to fill. I love to hook and perhaps I like to put myself under the gun to add to the endorphin rush but this was well over the top, even for me.

We were invited out for dinner Christmas Day so I planned to go to the shop and sew it up before we arrived at their house at 6:00. The lights out as soon as I reach the shop so that put an end to sewing and then we skipped dinner to stay home with the pups who were unnerved by the howling wind. Word was that the power might not come on until the following morning so before midnight, we all packed into the car and went to the shop to fill up water containers so we could at least flush the toilets and the power came back on shortly after we arrived so I sewed up the pillow then. The recipients of it were coming to dinner on Boxing Day and would be presented with it then.

I guess it was unrealistic to begin a project so close to Christmas but once the idea hit, there didn’t seem to be anywhere to go but diving in head first. It was the perfect gift that no amount of trudging around the stores in search of a present could beat. Homemade is always best, there’s love behind the making, giving the giving a deeper meaning and the joy I felt as they opened the present was all the payment I needed. Our boats mean a lot to us and decorating it with our handiwork can’t be measured.

But, the lack of sleep and exhaustion put a bit of a damper on the preparation of our Boxing Day meal. I struggled to prepare and cook, ignoring   the sofa’s inviting attributes to rest my weary bones. My legs ached and I had to take two sets of extra strength Ibuprofen to get through the day. By 11:30 pm, after the food was put away and the last dish washed, I could barely form a sentence, the words weighed as heavy on my tongue as the cold gravy we scraped from the pan. I literally had to stoop over the edge of the sink, my stomach and ribs supporting my frame, handling the delicate crystal and dishes with pronounced grip as not to drop and break them with my weary hands. Hubby deboned the turkey and I looked over once and saw him resting on his elbows while he worked, hunched over the island counter as his back pinged warnings. We looked at each other, our eyes portraying all the agony going on within our spent bodies.

Afterwards, we sat in the living room looking at each other, the smell of turkey a constant reminder of the heft of our day, too dumb struck to even speak, our jaws unhinged by shear exhaustion. Christmas music attempted to soothe us, fanciful songs and Hallmark card moments peddling the romance of Christmas, none portraying the hard work and the labour that actually constructs it. Sleigh rides and jingle bells are fun but far from holiday truths of the work to make our homes glow with tinsel and bows and the smell of baked goods about to come out of the oven. Maybe I’m just getting old, but as the matriarch of the family, the chief cook and bottle washer, it’s a lot of work to make everything look and taste this good. Being on my feet all day preparing for the dinner and tidying the house for company and then cleaning up after their full bellies had left us with a mess that spanned the kitchen from one end to the other. Hubby was drained too, he’s an amazing help in all areas but is seven years my senior. We’re ready to hang up our aprons and pass the baton anytime!

I love cooking and the Christmas dinner is definitely a meal to be made with love, to share with family and friends most dear. Once sitting at the table we enjoyed watching them devour the festive meal we’d prepared and we felt blessed. But peeps, it did us in this year so we decided next year that lasagna, a lovely salad and garlic bread will be on the menu, if that’s appealing come on by!

If the truth is told, I’m not a great fan of turkey, I could live without it for the rest of my days and sparing one the axe might bring more joy than the smell of its plucked carcass cooking, wafting through the house, bringing back memories of my childhood and my mother’s delicious Christmas feast. I think I could make new memories and install new traditions with an Italian menu, I’m told I make amazing lasagna so Christmas could smell like tomato meat sauce and cheese, it’s a festive colour too!

Perhaps I go a bit overboard with the side dishes that are time consuming to prepare. I like fancy dishes, more than the simple mashed potatoes, peas and carrots. I make three kinds of potatoes; sweet, mashed and dressing which is filled with goodies and seasoning.   Then I prepare Honeyed Carrots & Parsnips and that fabulous Brussel Sprout recipe I mentioned a while back that I would crawl naked over glass for and was the hit of the meal; gourmet cranberry sauce with orange rind and currants and the “Littles” family tradition Tangy Mustard Cauliflower. And to end the meal, Carrot Cake and shortbread cookies, made that morning.

All these dishes mean it’s a bit of a juggling act with one oven, to keep alternating between casseroles and the turkey and then struggling to keep it all warm. A smaller turkey might suffice; the 15 pounder was too large to rearrange the oven racks to accommodate anything else. I’m told that a lot of stoves now have a second oven in the lower section that is usually reserved for storage. I can hardly wait for this stove to break down. It’s been a hog, slow to heat and everything takes longer to bake. You have to add at least 20 minutes to every recipe or at least ten degrees to the cooking temperature to get anything baked.

For now lasagna seems a simple and reasonable substitution for a Christmas meal but maybe I’ll change my mind and go the turkey route again. Maybe if I get more sleep next year it won’t be a problem and besides, it’s like giving birth, no thoughts of another baby anytime soon, but over time we forget the all the pain and do it again.

The shop was closed between Christmas and New Year’s but I didn’t quite make it through the week with numerous requests to get in the shop so I decided to open Friday and Saturday from 12:00 pm to 4:00 pm.   I met some very nice people, new rug hookers that are embarking on the wonderful journey of this creative road we all travel. Friends came by to hang out in the Hook Nook so that was fabulous and then I stayed late Saturday to get some yearend items done. No rest for a shop owner in a new year. This week is inventory counting, the bowel movement of a business, the enema to purge all 2017 paper work to make room for the new. No fun there, but thankfully I have a book keeper to take over the reins after the counting is done so I can jump on the band wagon and ride it through 2018 spreading rug hooking joy!

New Year’s Eve, hubby and I and friends bedded down 2017 with a few bangs of expired boat flares and hand held rockets then stayed up till 3:30 am playing Five Crowns and Euchre and blasting 70’s tunes that transported us old fogies to our youth as only great music can. 2018 entered fresh and electrifying with its youthful presence, promising amazing things to come. I can feel it in my bones peeps, 2018 is going to be a fantastic year!

Today is January 2nd and I’m finally rested after a complete eight hours sleep last night. This is the first day I’ve felt fully awake and energetic since before Christmas. Although the shop was open with Deborah at the helm, I took today off to get a few things done at home but I’m happy to go to work tomorrow to get the ball rolling to close 2017 and welcome 2018 with enthusiasm and open arms.

HOOK ON EVERYONE!

6 Comments

A friend kicked and hit my dog.....

Christmas Stockings and other stuff....

Just a "Little" pillow talk....

2017 Main Street Hooker Christmas Party!

My holidays....

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