A Basketcase

Before I begin, Happy Birthday to my wonderful husband! I hope he has a fantastic birthday weekend-beginning with some fun tonight in the North End at the St. Anthony's Feast and culiminating in a bit o' cake and ice cream on sunday with the entire fam-damily. I love you honey!

My house is being taken over by baskets. It appears that I cannot drive/walk past a HomeGoods, Christmas Tree Shop, or even Pier1 without saying "OOH! That basket would be perfect for my (yarn, shoes, bathroom closet, husband's collection of baseball hats, empty wine bottles...)!"

I was talking to Phil, in fact, about women and our predilection for hobbies that require collecting massive amounts of supplies. In quilting, for instance, I'm always keeping my eyes open for interesting fabrics to give Blogless Sharon in her Christmas stocking, regardless of what projects she has already. In any craft or hobby we acquire, women need space. Space for supplies, space for the completed works, space for just working on the not-yet-completed works. Phil calls us 'hoarders' and I explain to him after every trip to the LYS how I carefully controlled my urge to buy six skeins of baby alpaca for which I may not have any purpose for years to come. Meanwhile, I have stashed 2 skeins of yummy merino or angora blend hidden under the bed...

Luckily, baskets are quite pretty, and yarn is darn cute too when artfully arranged in said basket like a bowl of round fuzzy fruit.

(Well, you might have hoped I could tell you what Phil and I are having after our ultrasound last night. And I can. But I won't. Not until we break the news to our families on sunday! I can tell you, however, that the little babe is quite healthy and active, has ten fingers and ten toes, and has a MUCH better profile than before!)