A lovely day for an artisan fair

We Won't Even Talk About The Dishes...

Carol's wearing a black cardigan and jeans.  It's 85 out, and we're about to go for a walk.

 

"Hey, um, you might be a bit warm in all that."

 

"Yeah, well, these are the only clean clothes I have, and *they're* not even clean."

And in that one sentence is captured the idiosyncrasy which has become our lives.  Even our clean clothes aren't clean.

Carol has been buuuuusy. The dual prongs of the latest collection (including Christmas!) being delivered and our upcoming attendance at the Niagara Grape and Wine Festival have kept her hopping. Not to mention that whole "parenting" thing.

But the late nights are paying off.  We're almost all packed up for the Festival ( www.niagaragrapeandwinefestival.com - come see us!) and the Christmas cards are all listed (http://www.junkmailgreetings.com/cardholidaypackage.htm).  

Check 'em out.  They're purty.  And clean.  Even if we're not.