It's not good news. After three (?) weeks I had pretty much convinced myself that the heavens would shine kindly on me and that the fabric shop would find me another matching 5 meters but no, it's not to be; and I feel like I owe the shop at least a tin of biscuits for their efforts.
So, I have been sulking, just a little bit, and randomly eyeing up all sorts of fabulously impractical and inappropriate alternatives. The other local fabric shop has nothing appropriate so I'm back to online shopping. Impractical flights of fancy aside, I've requested a few more samples; mainly in black, but I'm going to try one last attempt at a grey.
In the meantime, conscious of the passage of time, I've gathered all the bits that I need together and am going to start on the lining of the gown. I've also started to finish the sleeves - marking out where the eyelets are to be placed. Hopefully the lovely boyf will be happy to bash in some eyelets for me when he's back from the Czech Republic.
Thanks to the overly long arms of the smock, Glenda looks like a slightly demented scarecrow...
* * * * *
The boyf has been away for a week and I've been rather proud of how I've coped and my military-precision-esque management of the house, the dogs (except for Monday morning when, with about 20 minutes to spare I looked at them both and thought "who's walking you?"; I could hear the boyfs long distance chuckles as I charged around the field with barely dried hair and half-filed nails), work, the 11yr old and her endless amounts of homework. And then I found out what my good friend JC has been alluding to the last few months. While I'm patting my back for getting through a week of oven meals (some cheating had to be done somewhere) and dog walks, he's preparing to run three marathons in three days to raise money for Breakthrough Breast Cancer; this weekend in fact. I am in awe. It brings it all back into perspective. Good luck JC x