sanc·tu·ar·y [sangk-choo-er-ee] – noun, plural -ar·ies.
8. a tract of land where birds and wildlife, esp. those hunted for sport, can breed and take refuge in safety from hunters.
My craft studio, we call the "Crop Crib" is back and my sanctuary is restored. I know – sanctuary might seem like an exaggeration for my craft studio. No souls are converted or lives preserved except, of course, my own. Honestly, though, without the easy access it gives me to ink, glue and glitter, well, it's just not pretty . . .
Yep, that's me trying to keep it together after a month without my studio, unpacking, starting a new job, unpacking, transferring to yet another new job, unpacking, well, you get the picture. Hee hee – so much better than my driver's license photo! I posted this on Facebook and got these great suggestions for a caption:
- I have to go now, my 147 cats need me.
- My son, Ben, to my daughter, Caitlin: " I told you, it was your turn to watch her!"
- MOM!!! SPIT OUT THE CAT FOOD!!!
But, my favorite caption for this self portrait comes from Elizabeth Gilbert in her book, eat, pray, love (Great Book!):
I had a sudden horrifying image of the woman I might become if I'm not careful: Crazy Aunt Liz. The divorcee in the muumuu with the dyed orange hair who doesn't eat dairy but smokes menthols, who's always just coming back from her astrology cruise or breaking up with her aroma-therapist boyfriend, who reads the Tarot cards of kingergarteners and says things like, 'Bring Aunty Liz another wine cooler, baby, and I'll let you wear my mood ring. . . .' Eventually I may have to become a more solid citizen again, I'm aware of this. But no yet . . . please. Not just yet.
Love how that woman writes!
So, stay tuned, pics to come of the Crop Crop – yes, I have evidence that it's restored. But, right now, I have to go play with glitter!