My husband’s desk now sits just outside the door of what is my sewing room.
The poor man.
It just pains him to have to look in the door.
I guess I can’t blame him.
My floor is just covered with a million of those crazy little dog ears trimmed off of radiant stars. I’m not sure what the deal is with the random shoe and flip-flop.
Anyone want to come help me recover my sewing room?
Yeah. Didn’t think so.