The War.

I'm waging a war on my home. And it's not against flesh and blood but against this present darkness of my sewing rooms. To paraphrase the bible.

I am about ready to begin my next costume design, and my sewing and storage rooms are a mess. There is no way I could squish any more fabric into the piles I already have. So purging is necessary. Major purging. I told a few people to have the police on speed dial just in case I don't make it out alive. The dust and the cloth could eat me alive. It's taken on a life of it's own and started breeding. I have fabric I never knew I had. Breeding I tell ya, it's all breeding.

I'm avoiding doing it actually. I've found anything and everything to do instead, that's why I'm blogging. I know how much work it's going to be, and how gross I'm going to be afterward. But it needs to be done. Desperately. This week. Before the madness really begins. I'm going to have a couple shop assistants and they'll be shocked and dismayed if I don't have room enough for them to sew.

Alright people, pray for me. Give me a call later this evening. If I don't answer my phone, call the police. I'm dead.