Remember our delightful Portland friend, Angry Chicken (aka Amy Karol)? It feels like we’ve known her since she was just a little bitty thing, a merely Disgruntled Cornish Game Hen. Now she’s all grown up and has a book coming out tomorrow.
As a new recruit to the age-old crafts of sewing, patchwork and ironing-stuff-onto-stuff, I am so excited about Amy’s book that I have taken the drastic step of buying — i.e., purchasing, i.e., laying out cash money for–my own copy, even though I also plan, pursuant to my Standard Operating Procedure, to beg a copy off our beloved, much begged-upon publisher. Sometimes, you don’t have time for the begging, ya know? I need to bend the rules, and I need to bend them NOW. (What ARE the rules, anyway?)
(I am only hating Amy just a little bit for the odious DONE-ness of her book. The minimum possible amount of unavoidable hating. Really, nothing personal.)