What I was supposed to be doing: getting dressed, feeding the starving masses, starting the laundry, cleaning the catastrofuck…I mean…the house.

What I was actually doing: giving a photo of J.’s beloved childhood dollhouse (now passed on to her daughter), a bit of a “facelift”. Grandma looked okay in her rocker, but I thought she needed a few accessories…

I didn’t spend much time on it and can’t show anyone because I may have sort of “liberated” the original (I admit nothing), and I don’t know J., so I don’t know whether she’d be amused or pissed, but I just had to do it anyway. Now, I’m really late, and I don’t have anyone to blame but myself. That’s all right–I’ll think of a way it’s someone else’s fault as I’m working. 😀