
Okay girls, by now we know that I can happily spend HOURS in small, dark and filthy spaces pawing my way through strangers' stuff. Put me in a large, retail establishment overflowing with bolts of fabric bathed in flourescent light, and it's a whole nother kettle of fish.

I don't do
fabric. I don't get the thrill of it. I respect and admire you quilters out there, I just don't
understand you. I was a useless seamstress in 7th grade Home Ec. and have never looked back.
However, I recently found myself at Fabric Depot. I was looking for fabric for the piping (apparently, the correct term is welt, but my mom called it piping, so it's piping) to coordinate with this beachy print. I bought it years ago at a specialty fabric store, knowing that I would eventually use it for the new hut. Pillows, perhaps.

But I recently found this great loveseat for $20, so I decided to cover up the horrific 80's plastic-coated cushions with my wonderful shell and coral stuff.

So, I head out to Fabric Depot ~ during the sale, no less ~ and I spent almost 2 hours trying to find something....
anything...for the piping. At one point, I tried to leave, planning to come back another time with a friend or a therapist, but then I thought, "I can't leave, I've already spent 2 hours finding nothing." The whole thing gave me a stomach ache. I eventually found a blue stripe piece that's a great match. (I was so
fatootsed by this point, I forgot to take a photo of it.)
My torment was not over. First, you have to stand in the "cut" line, even though the fabric I chose was the last bit on the bolt and was only about a yard.

Then I got the stink-eye from this gal because she heard me on the phone telling Gail that I was going to need a large Margarita when this was all over.

Then you get to stand in line
again to pay. There was a gaggle of senior gals who pretended that they didn't see the line and cut right in. Oh, well. Can't wait to show you the before and after shots after
Beth has worked her magic!