I now know why some women I know go to what is known as “Quilt Camp.” They pack up their sewing machines and what they plan on working on and away they go. Several days and perhaps several nights of work tables provided with electrical supplies and a bunk house type housing for sleeping.
There is no way our little home provides more than several hours without life happening. Laundry to switch out, groceries that may be needed and of course the trips up and down the steps to be a good care giver.
On second thought . . . it sounds like a lot of commotion and work. Travel time, yaking it up with good intention table mates . . . I’ll take my chances here on Stauffer Ave.