A Little on the Overwhelmed Side

I visited a new (to me) hooking group last Monday, and while it was wonderful, full of artists and beautiful rugs, I felt the bar raising up, up, and away. There are Real hooking artists there! Like Brenda. Suddenly my rug looked like a small, shriveled raisin in a field of succulent grapes.

Not that I don't like raisins. I do. But there's a big difference between a prune and a plum, for example. One my children will eat. One they think is gross, for Babies and Old People with Regularity Issues.

Speaking of my kids, this is the Spring Portrait for Little Fish. No joke. They truly expect me to pay money for this? I'm in the wrong biz - school pictures is where the money is.

I'll just keep plugging away, I suppose. Maybe my rug won't resemble the Frankenstein I fear. Maybe? Or perhaps this is opportunity to finish my last-ever packet for Hamline's Master of Fine Arts in Writing for Children and Young Adults. For some reason I've been putting it off. Can't imagine why ...

Oh, and speaking of the Universe (I was, wasn't I?), it heard.