I suspect that she couldn't be bothered to struggle against gloomy late-afternoon light & take a properly-focused picture either. It's an amazing little print, my favorite purchase from Tiny Showcase in quite a while.
Anyhow, back to moping tiredly in a chair, it's just been one of those days. After an hour-long standoff over breakfast (if you're wondering who won, let's just say that it's not my pink playmobil princess castle that's on time out, ok?), I narrowly avoided drinking a triple-shot caffeinated latte instead of my usual decaf (though wouldn't that have been an exciting way to re-enter the world of caffeine?) then spent a solid half hour getting to a meeting that was only five minutes away from my starting point. There's this part of Seattle that people refer to as "Lower Queen Anne," & they do it in a sort of vague, hand-waving way, like, "oh, it's just down there on Lower Queen Anne, you know, by Seattle Center," as if Seattle Center didn't take up 74 acres & wasn't surrounded by a warren of one-way streets & no-turn intersections.
I persevered, though, & my reward was this:
There is an honest-to-god disco ball in the space we'll be holding next year's preschool auction.
So, anyway, after the meeting I came home to find not only the excellent Julie Morstad print but also this little gocco gem from 3P-3 (found through Poppytalk Handmade). I love the image, but I'm also very impressed at how clean the print job is (those dots should be mustard yellow, by the way).
I'm hanging it in the kitchen, where, it has become clear, I will find it much funnier than my husband (designated sink cleaner-outer), will.
I think I'll put it next to my spoons photo.
I have been wanting a pair of these ever since I bought a scarf from her booth at Urban Craft Uprising last year, & discovered yesterday that Crackerjack in Wallingford Center is now carrying her line. I am a big fan of fingerless gloves + their ilk in the winter, mostly because I run cold generally & my little studio corner is in the draftiest part of the basement, but I confess that wearing them also satisfies a tiny little part of my soul that still lives in 1984. With Madonna.