The bookcase was mine when I was little. Yup, I seem to be emotionally attached to everything these days. When Mom and Dad got their new place it was headed for the garage sale and I snagged it for the future playroom -- more because it was a free bookcase than because it had been mine. It even sat in there for more than a month before I decided it would be more useful in the sewing room than a dark empty space that, face it, might never become anything at all. When we do finish the playroom, I'll buy 'em a new book case. Or relocate the one that's in Heath's room.
I got the furniture wrestled into place last week. Today, it was time to refold and stack the fabric. This is probably 2/3 of what I own, if you don't count weirdly shaped scraps or stuff that's destined for specific projects. I swing between being surprised at how much cotton I've actually got and being elated that there's still so much empty space on those shelves. And there's a huge empty space behind it, perfect for storing the boxes of stuff that belongs in the sewing room but I don't really feel like dealing with anytime soon.
Lately, I've been reading back issues of American Patchwork and Quilting from the library and reading the profiles of different quilters in each issue and seeing their rooms full of fabric and finished quilts has me anxious to finally get my own room looking the way I want it to.
The noisy yarn is enjoying it's new life as a felted box (pattern from Mason Dixon Knitting.) I used two strands and I'm so pleased with the way it looks now that I may leave it unfelted. I'd like to make it just a bit sturdier, but I don't want the felting to destroy the things I like about it. So I'm felting another swatch to help me make up my mind.
And to top it all off, there's a new issue of Knitty with at least half a dozen projects I'm dying to cast on. Yippee!