Someone told me the other day that I could never be a spy, because I sound like a herd of elephants chasing a herd of buffalo, running for their lives on an african plain, the sound reverberating in the silent morning like thunder at midnight, like, well, the noise I make when I run, apparently.
There is another reason I could never be a spy, and it is not really my fault. It is totally physiological. Something happens to me when I have a secret to keep, especially if it is a good one. My dad is the same. When he has done something naughty or mischievous, you can tell it. It's all in the eye. And I am the same. The secret bubbles around my body, peeping out wherever it can, desperately trying to tell someone it's there.
And once someone knows there is a secret being kept, well, it's only a short while before the secret is being shared, isn't it?
So, for all you shops out there who are coming to see us at the
Stitches trade show in later this month, CHECK THIS OUT: We ain't just buttons any more.
*gasp*
What? Now, don't worry, we still have the buttons - and many a luscious one too. It's still who we are and what we do. That could never, and will never change.
But we kept seeing all this lovely stuff that's hard to find on our little island, but I know many of you crafty types would like to buy it so:
for the jewellery maker:
for the sewer:
to the patchworker & felt lover:
for the general crafter:
*eek!*
so to anyone who hasn't planned yet to come to Stitches (and who is eligible) I suggest you get on the phone and get us to send you a leaflet which lets you get in, nice and easy, like.
I would love to entertain you on our stand, which is J42 methinks, or nearabouts. I am liable to be so excited I may do a little dance. But don't hold me to it.
Oh dear, I guess that's one step further away from MI5 then.
See you then x
Col. C
