Oot And Aboot

OK, now you know that I love and adore my two loyal Weaving Inn readers. And that I would never DELIBERATELY do something cruel. But you have to see this. And you are gonna die. Simply die. You will hurl yourself to the ground, throw your arms in the air and proclaim, "I iz ded frum teh CUTE!" Seriously, you're about to die from adorable overload. Cute as you have never seen it before. Cuter than baby rats. Take a look at this and then I will tell you the awful truth.

Are you over being dead yet? The awful truth? This is the only one in existence. And it is mine. Not yours. Mine. You will have to pry this from my cold, dead hands if you want it.

I went to knit night tonight with my friends Kerry, Cindy and Melissa. I have been sadly negligent with respect to knit nights because hey, I suck. However, I am trying very hard to make up for that. Anyway, this unbelievably cute bag was Melissa's. She MADE IT. Like with a sewing machine.

Apparently there was something in my eyes that said, "Give me that bag or I will kill you with my dinner knife." Because now it is mine and quite frankly, the quality of my life has improved already by leaps and bounds. For instance, there were no lizards, dead or alive, on my living room floor when I got home. DeeDee managed to pee INSIDE the litter box today. All great things. All because I own the world's most magnificent notions bag. See what happens when you go out in public?