You might be a redneck if...

I went to my Stitch n bitch meeting last night, and look what Jen gave me!

It's a thank you for the thank you I gave her. It's very sweet. (though very uneccessary) Thank you, Jen.

Now, I have fielded some questions regarding this, so I figured I might as well just blog it. You see, I have some very "interesting" relations. (I can just hear it now, "Really, Erin? No, not you.") I'm not complaining, this leads to some very wonderful, although sometimes scarring, family anecdotes. I thought I might share one with you today.

You see I have a possum pouch.

My Uncle Earl made it for me from a roadkill possum, (No lie, the man has skills. Scary skills, but skills none the less.)and gave it to me WHEN I WAS SIX.

Imagine, on your trip to Missouri, you pay a visit to your uncle, who's working a look that can only be described as "Grizzly Addams", you wade through the nine dogs on the porch to the front door, and are affectionately greeted, and handed a package.

What could it be? Your excited little hands tear through the newspaper and you uncover this:


The original rope strap has gone missing.


What can you do, but thank Uncle Earl, who is really rather proud of this creation, and be the only girl on the block with a one-of-a-kind possum purse.

I still have it, (obviously) I can't bring myself to be rid of it. Actually, it's come in handy for more than a few Halloween costumes. So now you all know that strangeness, and craftiness appear to be genetic.