I see your Ludicrous Request and raise you one...

Nose: days one through four.  It's gotten less exciting since then.

Thanks for all your continued well-wishes on my recovery, kind readers.  Particular gratitude goes to the Anonymous commentors, who have left their good will / shop links no less that 27 times since I last posted.  I was gone, but surely not forgotten.  By the spammers.  You will (most likely) be pleased to know that the bruising and swelling have all but disappeared, my Transformers Mask is coming off tomorrow and I'm feeling much more like my old self.  And by 'my old self' I mean ornery and sarcastic.

Here's an actual email from a PR person today:

Hi Kitschy,

My name is Isabelle and I am currently working with xx A fabric shop in Melbourne xx. I came across your site http://kitschycoo.blogspot.com/2010/09/very-big-list-of-best-uk-online-fabric.html  . I love the content and the style of your articles. We were wondering if you would write a blog for us to be posted on your great site?

We were thinking the topic could be:

·         The right blinds to suit your home design

·         Types of blinds for your home

·         3 Reasons why you may want to install blinds

Or you could pick your own topic. And we just need a link back to our website in this.

Not a promotional piece just a general piece like the ones you've been writing.

Hope to hear back from you soon!

Obviously I skedaddled straight over to Facebook to elicit your collective outrage at such a cheeky request.  And then fell prey to (only minimal) pressure to email her back with a request of my own.

Hi Melbourne,  thanks for your email.  I clicked through to your site, I like your aesthetic and information on blinds.  Normally I don't take unsolicitated requests for blog posts to be written, particularly for non-UK companies and without any incentive or relevancy to my readers, but maybe we can work something out.  In exchange for me spending time writing a promotional post for you, I was thinking you could add some of my product images to the gallery on your great site?   You could add a picture of:

• Clothes
• Fabric
• Patterns

Or you could pick a picture from my blog; there's quite a few of me for example.  And all I'd need was a link back to my shop (http://www.kitschycoo.bigcartel.com/).  Like you, I can't offer any promotional incentive for featuring my business but if this is how PR works then sign me up.

I look forward to hearing from you soon!

Amanda 

I haven't heard back yet but will keep you updated.

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The Unintended Amazingness of Septoplasty

There really isn't any better day to get facial surgery than Halloween.

NOW WHO DOES THAT REMIND YOU OF?!?!

Please watch as I get stripped of my sewing blogger credentials:

The kids are wearing store-bought costumes.   We got them in Spain because I couldn't bring myself to make outfits I wouldn't get to see worn and enjoyed because I'm terrible like that I ran out of time to make them.  Maia is a Bruja (witch) and Jamie is a... I don't know... a ghost, a bear, a ghost bear?   Best Halloween ever.*


*Except for every other Halloween I've ever had.

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Surprise Part Deux: I'm not dead. Yet.

Welcome back to part two of impromptu shop closures! It's so exciting that I keep springing these on you, right? 

This time I'm shutting up shop for less desirable reasons than holidays and sunshine; tomorrow morning I'll be reenacting the movie Face/Off by having a tent erected within my nasal cavity to lift my face off my face and have my nose reconstructed.  The ideal scenario is that I will (after ten years of creepy mouth breathing) have two additional functioning airways.  The less ideal scenario is that the tent collapses and I become Voldermort.  The least ideal scenario is that I die under general anaesthetic because that's the kind of thing that happens to me.  In all scenarios save the last I should be reopen for business some time next week.

If you want to read the back-story as to why exactly I am getting my nose fixed, or simply want to see why Betty Page style bangs don't work with my hair type you can read all that (and more!) here.

Wish me luck and see you on the other side!  As in, the afterlife.

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Surprise!

I've closed up shop and I'm on my way to Spain! Prospective robbers, don't even bother. Friend Sarah and the Geriatrics (who aren't a band but by rights should be) are keeping a constant vigil at our front door, you won't get away with it.

Be back soon with some new products, a website revamp, the forever-promised Skater dress pattern, and a slightly darker skin tone.  Later, gators.

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The Little Shop That Wasn't (For Me)

This weekend, on my daily pilgrimmage for bread and milk I walked by the shop that I was interested in.  And there were people in there!  Not shocking in and of itself, obviously, but it's been boarded up forever and I didn't actually think anyone would want it but me.  'Aha!', I thought, 'the universe is sending me a sign!'.  I didn't have an appointment scheduled to see it but I figured as the agent isn't local and he was physically there and so was I, I'd loiter around until the other viewer left and then introduce myself.  Which I did. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'I just shook on it with the other viewer.'  And do you know what?  I was relieved.

Here's my very technical drawing of the space.  It's a corner unit with a chunk out of one corner for the main door, full height windows to two sides, and a internal door to a tiny bathroom on the back wall.  The total dimensions are roughly the same as my current space but the available wall space is a whole lot smaller.  To store my fabric in its current shelving would take up most of the wall space, which would leave me to work in one of the windows like a very boring parody of Amsterdam's red light district.

And here's my current working space.  One door, one half-height window (so I can work in front of it), a whole lotta wall and work space.  Looking at it like that, it would have been madness to cut into my profit margin by £400/m.  But it was something I was seriously considering doing for two reasons:

1. The sewing room is the land of misfit furniture
2. I have trouble staying 'on task' in my house

The first point is sounds simple enough.  Throughout Operation: Save Our Collective Lives I've replaced furniture that doesn't work with our lives and house with furniture that does.  The misfit furniture then moves to the garage or, if it is a semi-fit for what I need, into the sewing room.  But it's not the furniture that I need for the sewing room to work: my sewing table is too small for more than one machine at a time, there's an erstwhile two seater sofa that's being used as a surface to stack stuff on, and I'm using a old TV unit for pattern storage.  Consequently the room gets messy quickly, I'm frustrated with swapping machines constantly, and I don't feel happy and productive when I'm in there.  But guess what?  None of the misfit furniture would have gone to the shop.  Ergo, if I was willing to spend money to kit out the shop so it's the best use of space, I should be willing to spend money to improve my current space.  In fact, I should be willing to spend more money as it saves me the shop expenses in the long run.

Which moves me onto point two, which is harder to overcome.

When I am very busy, I work at my best.  But by 'busy' I mean I have orders to fulfil, when there are already expectations on me by customers.  What I struggle with is creating more business, be that through promoting, marketing, working on new patterns or designs, actively seeking opportunities, etc.  Truth be told, it's the fear of putting myself out there. I've been talking with a good friend a lot recently about holding myself and my business back through fear of failure and how this is actually a self-fulfilling prophecy.  Getting a physical shop would force me to work really, really hard to cover its expenses but more than that, I'd be telling myself that it's okay to take this seriously as a business.  To do many businessy things because I absolutely had to and should do as a legitimate business.  The number of people who've asked, 'What are you going to do now that your kids are both at school?' with the undertone of you should go back to proper work definitely sows seeds of doubt in what you're doing.  And that doubt is multiplied if you are the one holding yourself back. 

Long story short, the shop was not to be but it made me analyse where I'm at.

• There are definitely less expensive ways to feel legitimate  
• If I was willing to invest in the shop, it's okay to invest in things that are not the shop  
• I need to structure my time better

Thoughts or advice?

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The Side-eye Skirt

 

The recipient of this birthday skirt is one of Maia's childminding cohorts, who despite her tender age of just two has the most legendary side-eye I've ever witnessed.  When I arrive to pick Maia up, she runs her big blue eyes over me from head to toe and then gives me the side-eye.  Now that I've stopped checking my hair / face / clothes, it's hilarious.

Pictured: Skirt    Not pictured: Segue between topics

One can never say 'I was looking forward to doing my VAT return', but I was interested to see how I did in my first quarter with the new business direction.  And..... my turnover was 180% higher than last quarter so I couldn't be more chuffed!  It's not something I've ever talked about here, but my pattern sales nose-dived last year and financially the business just wasn't viable anymore without me making changes.  Jacking it in and going back to working for The Man was looking more and more alluring, what with the regular pay cheques and hours. In my heart, though, I wanted to preserve this little life of mine so I took a gamble (if you can call eight months of dithering and over-researching a gamble) with the fabric and hopefully this will continue to grow.  A huge thank you to my friends / readers / customers, I'm massively grateful for how supportive and encouraging you have been.

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Ask and you shall receive. Especially if you ask to be a loser.

Pictured: winners    Not pictured: me

It's that time of the year again when the MAD Blog Awards come around and I swither over whether to be gauche and mention it.  Well, today is the last day to nominate and I figure that because I haven't bombarded everyone with an all-encompassing Facebook / Twitter / newsletter / mail-merge / leaflet-drop-from-a-biplane campaign for noms, I'm allowed to be a teeny bit gauche. 

There are a bajillion categories*; many which I am automatically excluded from because of subject matter, and some of which I would receive only ironic votes but if you are so inclined I would really appreciate votes for Best Craft Blog and Best Small Business blog.  You don't have to vote for every category (as I didn't purely because I don't read blogs like that or I wasn't sure exactly what they even meant) but you do have to vote for a Blog of the Year to access the other categories.  If you're struggling for a Blog of the Year vote, I voted for my friend Kat at Housewife Confidential as she could by rights win 75% of the individual categories and is an all-round good egg.  Click the button below to nominate!


 

*MAD Blog Post of the Year, Best Family Travel Blog, Best MAD Baby Blog, Best MAD Blog Photography, Best MAD Blog Writer, Best MAD Craft Blog, Best MAD Blog for Family Fun, Best MAD Blog Family Life, Best MAD Food Blog, Best MAD Home Blog, Best MAD Schooldays Blog, Best MAD Small Business Blog, Best MAD Fashion Blog, Best MAD Thrifty Blog, Best New MAD Blog, Best Pregnancy Blog, Most Helpful MAD Blogger, Most Inspirational MAD Blog, Most Innovative MAD Blog

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One, Two, Three o'clock, Four o'clock... Crock

Once upon a time I used Pinterest merely to torment myself with the awesome things that people were making / owning / wearing / baking. Oh, and bookmark things that were inspiring and that I could maybe do one day. But mostly to organise my inadequacies into handy folders. Like...

If Only My Oven Worked

Let's face it, though, even if my oven did work I am probably more like to have this experience (also found on Pinterest and which made me laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh):


But then the Fairy Hobmother from Appliances Online read about my fecked-oven-ness over on Housewife Confidential (where I made a wish about having a working oven) and he made a wish of his own: for me to stop blaming the oven, the world and God for my cooking. So he bought me a slow-cooker. And so a new folder begins...

Crock of non-sh*t

Look closely and you will see...


Slow cookers can (allegedly) be used for baking! No excuses now, although I'm sure I'll do my level best.

The best thing for those of the altruist persuasion? The Fairy Hobmother just might visit a commenter on this post to make you stop whining too. Just leave your wish below.*

*I would imagine that wish fulfillment would apply only to people living in the UK. Not that I think he is personally racist (he's totally not), but logistically that makes sense. Wishes do not need to be of the appliance variety.

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I asked and the medical community answered: You're fecked.

Remember the time that I worried that I had a small head and Google said I did and that I'd probably die because of it? Well, I never took my small-headness to the doctor. More fool me. Now, nearly eighteen months later and with my malady untreated, it's been confirmed:


Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you my new glasses. My glasses from the children's section. I don't know why I'm looking smug either.

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Blondes might not have more fun but hopefully they get more accurate directions.

My friend Ruth is coming over from Ireland for a sleepover tomorrow and I'm keen to impress her. If she likes my new kitchen / sewing studio / decluttered underbed space / filing systems maybe she will move back to Edinburgh.


Anyway, her visit prompted me to use my Groupon hair salon voucher. This is me yesterday morning. Do not be fooled by my bathroom's heavenly appearance, it's next on the list for room makeover. This hair is directly responsible for two bus drivers blatantly lying to me about their routes.


And this is me after. This hair is directly responsible for one person complimenting me on my eyelashes, one person I gave birth to not thinking I came to pick him up from school because I am so unrecognisable, one person I am currently married to saying I look an unspecified amount younger, and one person I employ saying I look 'ten years younger'. Which when you're 31 years old has an additional bonus subtext.

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Better late than never (maybe)

I've been tagged 642 times for various memes but I'm so rubbish at remembering that they never make it onto my blog. No more, my friends, I'm playing (partial) catch-up. Back in December, I was tagged by Mummy do that to provide pictorial evidence that I am freaky looking. Otherwise known as: show us a picture your child has drawn of you.


Maia drew this picture of me this morning. Clearly, I'm on the right. Uncanny, right? And to the left, a heart. Because we love each other. Some of the time. But not when she's whining.

And then Kitschensink tagged me in the 10th photo story. I was to open the first folder in My Pictures, and show you the 10th one. Here we go:
So. very. interesting. What have you learned? Maia has always looked the exact same. And our house has always been a total mess. But if I open the folder of things I've made (since having this computer), you get this as the tenth picture:Slightly. More. Interesting. After Maia outgrew her Moses basket (maybe fifteen minutes after being born?), we passed it on to a fecund relative.
But before that, I relined it in very sweet broderie anglais. I made it with a combination of ties and elastic so that it could be removed and washed.

Being a rule-breaker, I'm not going to tag anyone else because I'm sure everyone in the world has already been tagged. But feel free to pretend I did if you haven't.

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The Morning After the Night Before

It was the official Kitschy Coo Christmas night out last night. Which basically meant that me and Friend Sarah went out in Edinburgh somewhere in the vicinity of Christmas. And it was slightly more festive than a normal night out, because I had a hot dog in the German Market. And a waffle. And a mulled wine with appelschnapps. In the absence of anything coherant to say today, here's my new haircut:


I'm growing my fringe out. Which means I think I finally look my age. What do you think?

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The post I don't feel like writing

My computer is back from the shop. First I needed a new motherboard, and then my hard drive died while in recovery. The man in shop said this happened after most ('most' being a nebulous term) of my files had been migrated to their backup system. As I handed over the GDP of a small nation, assurances were made that my new hard drive contained most of my old files. Oh, the witty banter I planned for you all today! Tales of toilet training Maia, Jamie getting stuck in a lift, photoshopped goodies of how the internet missed me. But instead, here's a montage of my current mood:

Why is the hard drive empty?

I can't believe all her photos from the last two years are missing.

You mean the pictures from Maia's first couple of weeks?

And Jamie's second, third and fourth birthdays?

Wait... what about her business?

All of the photos of everything she's ever made are gone?

What?! All of her tutorials are gone too?

I can't believe it, she's worked so hard.

So I guess I don't know where to go from here.

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Feeling perverse

Firstly, thank you all for your advice, comments and votes as to whether I should do the Country Living show. I really appreciate you all taking the time to help! I really, really want to do it in my heart but I've been looking at it objectively over the weekend and have some interesting conclusions. Well, interesting-to-me conclusions:

• In the month since coming back from the States, I've sold more than seventy patterns, but less than ten garments. By that rationale, I am more in demand as a designer than a maker. I have patterns up to 7Y/8Y in testing, and a bunch of new designs that I haven't had a chance to put on paper yet. Given that I only have to do the work on patterns once and then they take care of themselves, the best use of my time is to be developing more patterns.
  
  
• I was caught out big time this summer when I used up almost all of my fabric making things in specific styles / sizes that didn't sell at the terrible fairs. No more fabric, too much inventory, loss of flexibility to make things to order. For example, I have enough of a specific fabric for two coats and, under pressure for inventory, use it to make a jacket in 18m/2T and 3T/4T. What if someone wants a bigger size or different style? Not only can I not do that, but if those coats don't sell I have neither the flexibility nor the sale. This will be a problem for me until I start buying fewer designs of fabric, but in greater quantities.
  
  
• In my desperation to 'make enough stuff' for the fair, after finishing something I've actually caught myself thinking, 'I hope no one wants to buy this' because it would take away from my inventory. That's perverse thinking. Likewise, I'm getting emails everyday from people wanting me to make things for them, but I've been thinking I shouldn't because I need to make things for the fair. Again, perverse thinking... turning away actual business now for the prospect of business later.
  

I know that I'm turning down a chance to be uber-successful but as Emma asked, am I ready to be more busy than I am now? Things will be a lot clearer next year, Jamie will be at school and Maia at nursery and I'll have a full year of planning behind me. And the decision not to do the fair has nothing to do with this:

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I might have to grow up now

The picture above was taken last week. But this is probably how I look today:


I'm not being facetious, I did actually pull out find three grey hairs last week. And on top of that, today's the Big Day. I have officially left my twenties behind and I'm now 'thirty-something'. I'm not sure what's going to change (if anything) but I probably should start thinking of myself as a grown up now, and maybe act like one occasionally too. I don't think it bothers me being 30, if anything I'm excited about the advertising offers that will surely come rolling in. Just look how happy our diapers make us:

If you want to see a Photoshop Wizard at her best, just click on the picture. Can you tell I pasted myself in? It's totally not noticeable, is it? I rock.

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Some Things Never Change: A short play

Setting: On family holiday in the US. Unbeknownst to me, my old nemesis Thrush also made the transatlantic trip. Cue visit to pharmacy.

Pharmacist: Can I help you?
Me: Do you sell Diflucan over the counter?
Pharmacist (incredulous): What did you say?!?!
Me: Diflucan. Fluconazole. Do you sell it over the counter?
Pharmacist (shaking head at my brazenness): Absolutely not! You need to go to your doctor for that! (mutters to self) Addict. Junkie.
Me: I'm on holiday, I don't have a doctor here.
Pharmacist: Well, might I suggest the 'Feminine Care' section of aisle 14? We have a vast selection of over-priced, ineffectual and disturbingly named products. You can't miss it.
Me: Thanks, you've been very helpful.
Walks over to Aisle 14, following the flashing arrows that alert all other customers to your predicament.
Me (to self): How will I ever be able to choose between Vagisil and Vagistat? Gyne-lotrimin? Or Vagi-guard? Hmmm, this brand 'Faultless' appeals to my sense of injustice that this happens all the time...
Fills arms with embarrassingly named products and goes to counter, drops haul before teenage girl cashier.
Cashier (cheerfully): So how are you tonight?
Me (with sarcasm): Splendid.
Cashier: That'll be a million dollars.
Me: Here you go.
Cashier (perkily): You have a great night!!
Me: I have a feeling it'll be fantastic, thanks.

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Every cloud has a silver lining

I had to go into town today to get new passport pictures taken. Obviously, getting a new US passport when in the UK is an administrative and financial burden. But the good news is, I won't be saddled with a passport picture like this one for the next ten years:


That's right, folks, the specimen above is my current passport picture. That I've been travelling with for ten years. The shame. Each time I've handed over my passport for perusal, I received a look like, 'And where's the person who's supposed to be holding your hand?'

But no longer! Here's my new one:

Anyone else been saddled with a terrible passport photo?

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Steven tries product placement

Let me tell you about one of my little quirks. I'm a hoarder. I know this isn't unusual behaviour, especially in my gene pool, my parents are both hoarders too. But this desire to save things forevermore goes just beyond the pack-rat, because when I like things, I don't want to use them. I just want to have them. This means I collect pretty notebooks but won't write in them, I have fabric that I love so much I don't sew with it, I stockpile cosmetics / perfumes / gift certificates but don't use them. It's perverse. But clearly adorable and endearing.


Every time we go to the States, we bring home candy that we can't find here. Tootsie Roll pops, Wild berry Skittles, Peanut butter M&Ms, Necco Wafers, Gobstoppers... And Reece's Pieces. My siblings and I still used to tease my mom because she would hide a haul of jelly beans or malted milk balls in her sock drawer. Not because she was gluttonous, but because she would eat a single one every once and while and stretch the experience over months or years. Oh, how we'd tease her for her crazy ways! I am now my mom.


Now, Steven is the anti-hoarder. When he loves things, he actually wants to use them / wear them / eat them. This doesn't work out well for me on the candy front. Once a box or packet is open, he eats surreptitiously with gay abandon. And when I decide, yes, today's the day I will have some of that precious hoarded candy, I find he has left just a single piece for me. He says, 'But I thought you were eating them too!' and I protest, 'No, I wasn't! I was saving them!'. And then stomp about a bit feeling aggrieved. My only defense to actually being able to eat the candy myself is not to open the box. Because of previous candy transgressions, Steven knows the decision to open the box is not his.


We are at an impasse now. There is one box of candy left from our trip (six months ago), and I've not budged. He casually asks, 'When are we going to open the Reece's pieces?' with increasing regularity. 'Dunno,' I say. 'What are you doing, saving it?' he laughs, tries to shame me with my silly ways. 'Yep,' I say. 'But we're going to the States soon,' he bleats, 'We can get some more!' He's getting nowhere. I'm not opening that box until it's past it 'Eat by' date and covered with strange chocolate mould. He's getting desperate. Last night, when I went in the kitchen to make the tea, look was sitting in front of the microwave:


He'd taken them from the cupboard hoping they'd trigger a subliminal urge for me to eat them. Clumsy.

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My dark secret

I've got a confession to make: I have multiple personality disorder. Not in the medical sense, mind, in the cyber sense. Would it shock if I said that in the real world I am shy, private and introverted? If I had a pound for every time someone said 'Gee, I didn't use to like you. You come across as very aloof', I could buy a bottle of semi-decent wine. And then drink to numb the pain. Because I really don't like giving people the impression I'm aloof, in my heart I'm warm and engaging and maybe even a tiny bit charming. Even my own mom said recently that she liked reading my blog because she's learning more about me, that it's like a 'secret' diary.

When I first started writing this blog, I worried about finding my voice and *gasp* people who would want to read it. It's taken me awhile to feel comfortable writing and sharing but I've realised something a little bit alarming: I can be who I really am here. And being myself here is helping me be myself out there. Slowly. I don't think it's a coincidence that my three and a half year stint in therapy for depression is finally coming to an end.

So why the confession today? Because tomorrow (drumroll please...), my family is meeting up with Vonnie's family and going to the zoo. We've all been getting to know each other cyber-style: she reads my blog, I read her blog, last night Steven read Bob's blog. In the absence of Steven having a blog, I wrote a personal ad on his behalf for Bob to read. And I'm worried that when we meet she'll think, 'Who's this imposter? She's nothing like her blog!' But I'm getting there. And thanks for helping :)

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Tag, I'm it!

I've been tagged by not one, but two people. First by Nicky of Sparkly Treasures, and then by Jennifer of Little Birds Fly. So here goes....

8 Things I am looking Forward too.....

1. Going into town with Friend Sarah this evening. We're going to hit the shops, and then to eat and drink and be merry. I might buy some clothes, which I haven't done in almost a year.
2. Meeting my new nephew Calvin, he's coming up to two months old now and is already probably too big for the clothes I made but not sent :(
3. Sunshine and Heat. Part and parcel of a trip home to the US in the summer.
4. Everyone's legs getting out. See above. The kids legs are so chubby and delicious they deserve to be seen at all times.
   
5. Reading a book again. I'm a voracious reader but have had a moratorium on reading for a couple of months now as I've been so busy with the business.
6. I think *gulp* I might be meeting up with Vonnie soon, the object of my sapphic cyber crush. Although she warns that we have so much in common us meeting might rip a hole in the fabric of the universe.
7. My birthday in August. I'm going to be 30, and Friend Sarah has offered to look after the kids so we can go away. Although it worries me that after looking after the kids, she might not be my friend anymore. She might be in an asylum.
8. The next time I can justify fabric shopping. It's got to happen some time, right?
   

8 Things I Did Yesterday...

1. Talked to my Dad on the phone in the afternoon. We talked about the book 'Raising your Spirited Child' in relation to Jamie.
2. Talked to my mom on the phone in the evening. I was meant to be 'going to bed early', but instead blabbed away for an hour and a half, and then went to bed at 1AM. Oops.
3. Hid Tesco Cheerios inside the box for normal Cheerios to try to trick the kids. Maia, tricked. Jamie, not tricked.
   
4. Bought Jamie a special treat (a big bubble wand) for not sleeping with us for the second time in 10 months. He sneaked in again last night, so the treat did not incentivise him.
   
5. Ate the last of Maia's birthday icing.
6. Fixed two tires on the buggy. Again.
7. Sketched and cut out the pattern pieces for a new summer blouse I'm hoping to make.
8. Watched The Apprentice through my fingers. I get so stressed.
   

8 Things I Wish I Could Do....

1. Speak Italian.
2. Sleep at least six hours a night.
3. Service my own sewing machines.
4. Figure out how to scale my coat patterns to adult sizes.
5. Dress myself in non-boring clothes without feeling like an imposter.
6. Afford to send my patterns to a printer so I don't have to trace anymore.
7. Get my UK driver's license.
8. Relax.
   

8 Shows I Watch....

1. The Apprentice (through fingers)
   
2. Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares (through fingers)
   
3. Ashes to Ashes
4. Dexter
5. Heroes
6. Damages
7. Skins
8. America's / Britain's Next Top Model *looks shifty*
   

Okay, that's me. My turn to tag you. Here's the rules, just in case you want to follow them:

1. Mention the name of the person who tagged you.
2. Do the lists of 8.
3. Tag 8 bloggers of your choice.
4. Let them know that they have been tagged!

And, I'll tag:

• Nickynackynoo
• Nicsknots
• Moederkip
• Tiny White Daisies
  
• Indywriter
• Sew Recycled
• Jellybelly*Jellybrain
• Three Little Monkeys
  

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