This week I've been sorting through my box of fabrics and part-made bunting, and finishing off. The newest bunting will be listed in my FB shop over the weekend, so to celebrate, this morning I've been making more bunting for my workroom, which already has strings on two of the four walls.
Having moved the furniture around a few weeks ago, the unadorned walls are now more accessible, and look a little bare. I still have some of the lovely fabric I used for my chair cushions, so I've used it to make two strings of bunting for the bare walls.
I had to call PP though to hold one end to check the length and she is of the opinion that too much bunting is a thing.
*speechless!*
I immediately rebutted this blatantly untrue and quite frankly, seditious assertion but she was adamant.
Now, I'm not saying she's right, but perhaps she has a point with regard to my borderline obsession with bunting. I credit it with all manner of benefits, from cheerful home decor, to an aid for improving mental health. Whenever I watch TV, if I see bunting in ANY setting I can't resist squealing a little bit, pointing and saying...."Oh look!!!! Bunting!" in a style usually reserved for catching sight of a cute animal.
I can't help it.
I just love bunting.
Perhaps there's a medical term for it. Other than buntingphile.
Perhaps it's a boney fido medical condition, the primary symptom of which is excessive adoration of bunting. Although I probably have the more severe, chronic condition in which sufferers also exhibit an overwhelming urge to actually MAKE bunting.
I suspect it's incurable, but perhaps I could mitigate the effects by accepting therapy... such as attending a group meeting of Bunting Anonymous.
"Hello. My name is Sandra and I am addicted to bunting."
They probably hold meetings in a village hall. Perhaps in a village setting. Lots of pretty, little cottages with roses round the door.
Perfect location for lots of bunting really. I suspect I am a hopeless case......
*sigh*
