The weekend is almost here

So here I am kinda at a loss for something to talk about. I have been reading the last Harry Potter book before Rawlings final book of this series comes out.. I wont review it since everyone has probably already read it anyway... I have been trying to arrange events for Clinton days and am hoping that those who I have contacted will call me back. I have been busy doing taxes and well it has been a fairly busy week! But I just cant come up with any really interesting things to talk about so it seems to me it is time for another story.... So gather round children and you shall here about how I came to be this incredible awesome talented (yeah, yeah, blah, blah... and so on and so on) artist. I grew up in a little town called Spangle in Western Washington. We had a population of 210 when i was growing up and when we finally moved we had grown to a population of 213. We had full days in school back then. Our classes werent over until 4:00PM every day. When I was in 8th grade the girls would travel to the high school to take a class from the home ec teacher there. Her name was Mrs. Prauff. She was an awesome teacher actually however no matter what I did I could never do well in her class. I could cook very well at home often making dinner or desserts but I was unable to cook even a simple breakfast in home ec without burning anything. Well, part of the class involved a sewing project. Now although I had a sewing machine of my own, I had never sewn before. The first project was a dress that had to have a lining. The second year was a dress that had to include a collar and a zipper. My first dress turned out really very nice and I managed to get a "b" for my efforts. It was not until my second year that i started encountering problems. I picked out a dress with a pinafore over the top of it and picked out material that was a little more difficult than standard cotton material for the dress. This material was embossed material and had a distinct pattern. You could tell easily which direction was up and down. Well, I laid out the pattern on the material and with Mrs. Prauff's help I did figure out what direction was what and I managed to get everything on the bias and well it was really going well. I proceeded to cut out the pieces and one by one I started sewing each piece together to make this dress. I spent a lot of time on the zipper for the back and darts and collars and I still had not put the front on to the back yet. Finally it was time for this big step. During this long process Mrs. Prauff became ill and a replacement was hired to cover for her for her lengthy healing process. So finally the day came for me to sew the front and back of the dress together. I removed the pattern piece from the front piece and went to sew it to the back and low and behold what do I discover? I have cut a wonderful hole right where my belly button would be in the front of the dress. I was totally distraught. We didnt have time or the money to go buy more material and the store was not carrying that pattern anymore... Finally our replacement teacher told me about a wonderful product called "stitch witchery". So with my mother we headed bravely off to the fabric store. We bought our product and when I returned to school the next day the teacher showed me how to repair the dress. Now I just had a patched hole with material going the wrong direction and a slight discoloration where my belly button should be instead of a hole. I sewed the dress together and when it was done I wore it one time. Each year a fashion show was held to model the outfits that were made during home ec. This year I earned "girl of the Year" and was honored at the fashion show in which I would be wearing this "gawdawful" creation. My sister who had been using the sewing machine I owned for a while.. made the pinafore for my dress and I wore it over the dress to hide my mistake. It was a memorable event filled with sweet and bittersweet memories. It was a learning event as well. Believe me when I say this.. When I do art now I find no difficulty in remembering humility. It seemed to always be a lesson that was forced on me through adolescence. One I have never forgotten.