Fuzz Here, Fuzz There, Fuzz Everywhere

I am surrounded by fuzz. I've been washing Peanut and her bedding and I have been sewing felt necklaces. Both lead to fuzz on my clothes, in my eyes, and up my nose. I feel a bit like I have been peach-picking on a hot and sweaty day (an activity I vividly and uncomfortably remember from over 30 years ago.)

The felt necklaces are coming along.

If I could get my act together, I'd put some in my empty Etsy shop. But, no time. I need to watch Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer with the kids, take said dog for her annual vet visit, and make sure we have enough Cheerios for breakfast tomorrow. The shop can wait.

Lots of things can wait. Last weekend I found myself stirred into a frenzy of why am I not doing this? accompanied by a case of I need to do that too! I nearly drove myself and my poor husband crazy. The pressure inspired me to create a Twitter account and start tweeting until I realized... I have nothing to tweet! No one will follow my boring life. That realization sent me into another type of panic called why can't I think of something fabulous to tweet?

Thankfully, the ridiculousness of that last panic sent me back to reality and I wisely just turned off the computer for a few days. I spent time folding laundry, reading, cleaning the tub, and mindfully wiping counter tops. I also turned my attention back to the people (and doggie) I love. I needed to clean out the fuzz that was taking over my brain.

Technology is a wonderful thing, but sometimes I just hit a wall of too much. Facebook, crafty blogs, and (have mercy) Pinterest. My head starts to feel like a Jiffy Pop popcorn pan, expanding and filling with ideas and images every second.


Instead of being inspired, I start to feel overwhelmed. And suddenly (gasp) my creativity is gone.

So here I am again, peaceful creative woman on her own path with her own timeline.

I give myself two weeks before Jiffy Pop brain returns.

By the way, Peanut feels like silk and her bed smells quite different.