Just Franquemont-ize me, please.

Just Franquemont-ize me, please.

Gentle Reader yesterday was a big day.

A teacher and friend had a book signing of her newly release Respect the Spindle. A book with all her years of experience poured out on the pages.

The signing appropriately happened at Mecca.

It was a banner day, why even the Canadian Factor showed up.

So honored was I to attend attired in clothing I had both spun the yarn and knit the garment. None of which would not have been completed so nicely if I had not had lessons from Abby.

I found it humorous that Abby was afraid no one would show up.

They did… in droves.

Her book flew off the shelf, as did a goodly sum of fiber and, yes… plenty of spindles.

Therefore, when Abby announced that her husband had gotten her a henna pen, because “someone might want their breast signed”…who was I to resist.

I present the only known Franquemontized breasts.

I have a spinner’s soul in a marked body.
Life could not possibly get better.

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