I've been working on Hocuspocusville.

The pumpkin patch isn't quite as fun as the boards and window of the potting shed, so instead of making up stories about the leaking roof and missing shingles and whatever might be growing inside, I'm fussing over embroidery stitches that aren't quite as tiny as I'd like them to be.

I'm worrying about individual stitches on what's going to be a 70" square quilt. No one but me is ever going to look at the stitches this closely.

So, am I making myself a better stitcher? Driving myself quickly along the route to insanity? Or just enjoying the fact that there's no one walking past my windows or banging away on my roof and there's nothing more pressing to worry about right this second?

I've got one tiny but of stepping stone left, then I can move on to the tree. I'm sure I'll think up some interesting stories to tell myself as I stitch my way through the branches and cobweb and ravens.