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14,595 Pricked Fingers

Kraken lovers, it’s that time of year when I like to look back at the past 364 days and wonder what in the bollocks I was thinking. That’s what Crimbo and new year is for after all. It’s nothing to do with Jesus or gifts or laying prostrate on the sofa while inhaling entire tins of Quality Street. No, it’s about wondering what possessed me to think that it was Ok to use a seam ripper to get that raspberry pip out of my tooth way back in April. That’s why I’ve summed up my year for you. It’s actually the good, the bad and the ugly of running a crafting business. And yes, it includes the word ‘gusset’. TWICE.

14,592 pricked fingers, all accompanied with profanities that’d make Satan concrete over his ears;

1 pricked tit when a sewing machine needle snapped and embedded itself in my right bap;

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1 collapsed sewing machine (fair play, though. It made it to my last order of the 2015);

3 weeks of no orders making me sob/ panic/ wail/ wonder if there was any point to my existence;

3 anatomical embroideries which are yet to include a scrotum;

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1,000,000,005 metres of fabric. No, make that 1,482,658,005 metres of fabric;

1 family of shed-nesting great tits (thankfully NOT pierced by a snapped sewing machine needle);

203 commissions, every one of which made me gawp at your belief in my fabric-based outpourings;

Amy bag 1

1 Ferris Mewler pawing at the shed door like a starving orphan refused entry to the poorhouse

3 people unfriending me for using the word ‘gusset’ in my updates;

3,871 uses of the word ‘gusset’;

1 Kraken junior callously used 7 times for marketing purposes. Mwahahhaaaaa!;

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1 Conjugal Kraken saying, weekly, “Put down the scissors and STEP AWAY FROM THE MACHINE!”

2 magazine covers which destroy any chance of me ever being taken seriously by Mollie Makes;

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15 incidents of really, really, really, really, REALLY wanting to punch Kirsty Allsop;

1632 times ditsy floral prints have made me want to set fire to the high street with a burning torch;

61 mentions of rum being drunk from the bottle;

364 mentions of Jaffa Cakes (one a day. Mentions, that is. Not Jaffa Cakes. I have 3 of those a day);


3 times that I’ve actually, properly considered taking my sewing machine to my static caravan;

7 days spent embroidering by a pool in Menorca, even though I could have/ should have been drunk;

4 times caught dancing in my shed by my postman (who pretends not to notice);

1 times caught adjusting my bra by said postman (who’s getting really good at not noticing);

17 more additions to the walls of my sewing shed, creating a delightfully cluttered panicky feel;

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1 accusation of being a terrorist by my local post mistress;

203 grunts from said post mistress whenever I’ve shown her a parcel;

1 brand, spanking new post office found for all future parcels;

203 happy customers. I think. Look, they told me they were happy, OK? What more do you want?

happy customers

1 plan to make 2016 even better than 1015;

2975 alarm bells that tell me I’ll be repeating the same chaos in 2016;

1 blaringly happy, idiotically chuffed Kraken who can’t believe she actually got her business to 2016.


Happy Christmas and an even happier, bra-adjusting new year to every single one of you. I look forward to seeing you for more tomfoolery in 2016.

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