Me so crafty

I was going to title this one "Me 'sew' crafty," but I even annoyed myself with that title so I compromised. I am feeling uninspired.

I decided that there's really no reason to delay becoming an 80-year-old woman, so I have decided to add quilting and crocheting to my repertoire (which now consists of knitting and... knitting). It is my hope that by the end of the year I will have covered every surface in my home (including my husband and son) with crocheted white doilies. Why not? I've got nothing else to do. So I have enrolled myself in a beginning quilting class. The teacher is very nice and the other two students are... maturer than I. But before I can quilt I had to learn to sew so last weekend I went to a very cool, young, funky local craft shop and took a beginning sewing class. The other two students in that class were... less mature than I. It was a lot of fun and I came away with a new tote bag which I now carry everywhere and spend hours gazing adoringly at. I'd post a picture, but our only working computer has non-working USB ports so until the camera learns to send its pictures through mental telepathy the pics are all stuck inside of it.

Now that I can sew a wavy line and create simple tote bags, I have visions of a new craft business dancing in my head. Problem is that I have entirely too many ideas (and well, very little experience, except that I would be able to treat any injury I inflicted upon myself while wielding sharp scissors and needles and such). I will probably purchase a few patterns, test my hand at them with the intention of asking friends for opinions and promptly become bored and decide to train dogs for a living (this is exactly why I am an M.D. who doesn't practice).

In other news... it is very hard to try to pretend that you're not hoping to get pregnant when you know for sure that you're ovulating because all those years of injecting yourself full of cow hormones have caused your ovaries to start groaning and creaking and generally making themselves known every time they crank out an egg. Perhaps they'd chill out if I covered them with some nice white doilies.