Bags Are Us

The bag factory is chugging away, every spare minute I can find. I have a fourth bag started but I need a dark wine thread. I use thread like water and it's hard to keep all the right colors on hand. Tonight I cut up the anise soap I made Saturday. It set up perfectly and smells divine. I came home with a bag of cracked corn and there they were - Barack Obama and his little black girlfriend, the one whose teeth were caught in her fleece the other day, munching away on the crunchy goodness. I snagged them both and stored them in the work room adjacent to the apartment until Matt got home. I was determined to get their kid mohair before it's ruined. Poor Matt - it was the last thing he wanted to do tonight - hold little goat horns while I clip away. It was a good opportunity to find out what's going on with the weatherization folks. It took an hour or more to do them both, and Matt went straight for the can of tobacco and papers. I was relieved to get the tags off the kids and give them their vaccinations and worm meds...and have that great kid mohair to play with.