Cheryl and the pink stocking


One of the many things that I really enjoy about attending someone else’s class is that other people use colors I would never dream of putting together:

Cheryl's pink stocking bag

This is a color combination I would never have used for Christmas, but look how pretty it is!  Not one, but two shades of pink…well worth the trip out to Haiku.

If you live on the mainland and have a 75 mile commute every day – one way, uphill both ways – then you might as well go on to the next blog post, because you are not going to get this.  You see, Cheryl used to live 5 minutes from me.  She was just up the hill.  The year she became an empty nester, she and her husband decided to do the Green Acres thing (if you are younger than dirt, ask an old person about Green Acres) and they moved out to Haiku.  They have two gorgeous acres and a horse (maybe two, we aren’t sure) in the pasture – more about that another time – but the word you need to pay attention to is “OUT”.  Haiku is a 45 minute drive.  There is no more “Hey Cheryl, come down here and look at this and tell me what it needs.”  I don’t call her to see if I can run up and borrow a few sheets of Riding Hood Red.  We have to make DATES for coffee, for Pete’s sake. (Don’t ask me who Pete is.  He’s older than dirt too.)

Anyway, if I want to see Cheryl I have to pack my overnight bag and load up some provisions and feed and water the horses (I mean put gas in the car) and then DRIVE.  And I don’t really like to drive.  Matter of fact, as each of my children have gotten their respective driver’s licenses I have made they my chauffeur.  Turn-around is fair play.  But I love Cheryl, and spending time with her is like being in the sunshine – you just have to do it, and you feel so wonderful when you do.  So I drive out to the hinterlands in Haiku where everyone wears sweaters and shoes and we stamp.  And it is totally worth the drive.

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2 thoughts on “Cheryl and the pink stocking

  1. Ann, I feel your pain. My best friend and stamping buddy lives 25 miles from me. It takes at least a half hour to get to her house and we live in the same city! I told her if we lived 5 minutes apart we’d really be dangerous, so I can understand how different it must be for you now that she’s not close by. Just be thankful that she didn’t move to a different island!

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