Here's a picture of my rocking Muslim chic at a Mosque in Casablanca.
And I returned home to find that the wonderful coffee shop where I work, my home away from home, my good friend, had closed it's doors for good. So there's bit's of excitement over our adventure tempered with being in mourning for my job. But the cast is off my arm, it works relatively well despite being a bit weak, and I now have both time and the ability to sew again between bouts of job hunting. Oh, how I hate job hunting, I can't even express it, the constant sting of being ignored, or rejected, it's like dating only without the fun parts.
Since I am now amongst the unemployed I have decided to not buy any new fabric until I find a job. Is that incentive to put myself out there or what? Good thing I have a massive stash. That, and while I was away, basking in ignorance, I found fabric shops in the canary Islands.
|Burda 7767 had been sitting on my desk for months.|