Ode to a Brush

I've made this mistake before...

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I was working when I shouldn't have been: tired, not feeling well, and working to finish some earrings in time to bring them into one of my shops on my trip to Reno.

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That's when disaster struck. Okay, a small disaster, but when you're tired, it seems bigger, and it seems like you're a big idiot (I mean, like I'M a big idiot). I left my favorite brush sitting out, with paint on it, while I ran into the house, probably interrupted by my seven year old son. (That's his specialty: interrupting me.) And by the time I got back out to the studio, it was too late....hard paint; useless brush. ARGH. I loved this brush! It was the perfect size for so many things. And it had that little angle to it, and felt great in my hand... it was the one I grabbed first.

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It's okay; I'm over it. But I bought this brush at Michael's, a couple of years ago. And my New Year's resolution was to never set foot in Michael's again...that "soul-destroying" place, as it's been described by a friend. So I guess I'll have to find a similar one elsewhere...

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The new earrings got done anyway. They're going to ClayNichol's today, on my way to Thanksgiving at my father's "lady friend's" house... (another dad euphamism). I'm so grateful that I'm off the hook for cooking Thanksgiving dinner. Love to eat it, but it's just the silliest holiday, isn't it? We all have to eat the same thing on the same day? It's ridiculous. And every year, I swear it's going to be peanut butter & jelly for dinner that day, and every year, I end up doing the whole t'day thing... but thanks to M., who's a fabulous cook, I get to just enjoy the eating part. Thanks, M.