Hey hey one and all,
Funny little story for you before I depart for a lovely weekend of camping in Bar Harbor (and, as luck would have it, the ONLY weekend in these last two months that they are forecasting RAIN):
Yesterday, when Oliver came home from work, he popped into the shop to say hello to me. His timing was impeccable, as there were a TON of new boxes of fabric that had just arrived. All of these boxes needed to be opened, unloaded and then broken down, and I don't know if you've ever noticed this but a bolt of fabric is HEAVY (Especially the 54" funky stuff that we have been ordering lots of lately). Sooo, I employed the doe-eyes and the pouty lips and the "blink, blink, blinking" of the eyelashes and successfully cajoled him into helping me with this whole process.
I am working away on my pile of boxes and Oliver is working away on his pile of boxes when all of a sudden I hear him say "Hey, I found a bolt!!!" I'm thinking "Well, I should hope so because I've just found 5 bolts of fabric in the box I've opened, myself." I look up from my box-cutting, expecting to see Ollie pull out a new bolt of fabric, but NOOOOO: Between his thumb and index finger, Oliver is holding a huge, rusty metal bolt that he found in the box.
You have to laugh. 100% of my daily recommended dose of irony supplied by this tiny, metal screw that somehow shanghaied it's way to Maine from MODA's HQ in Dallas, Texas.
Have a great weekend and think of Ollie and I as we set up our tent in the rain. If we need a bolt, I TOTALLY know where to find one.
XOXO
Rhea
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