I know.
You thought I told you that I lived in Camas, Washington.
Well, you are right. In the most literal sense, I do.
But, there's another place I live a fairly good portion of the time. It's a fabulous place, where I feel euphorically happy 24/7 and life is always good.
It's a little slice of heaven called Traceyville.
Let me tell you how I get there:
Whenever I get a really great new idea, it is nearly always followed by a brain-flood of other ideas that come blasting into my mind, like a domino effect, and I find myself in Traceyville lick-etty-split, where I can visualize just how they can look if when I get to them all. (In Traceyville, I always get to them all...because there are an extra four hours in every day there, and I invariably seem to stay on task!) I can imagine 500 crafty or entertaining ideas in five minutes, and see them all...completed perfectly in record time (and without ever leaving a mess!)...in Traceyville.
Likewise, when I am having a bad day in Washington, I might end up catching the train to Traceyville, where I only find close parking spaces, never run out of Pepsi Maxx, and the biggest serious life issue at hand is figuring out which cute pair of shoes to wear. In Traceyville, there are no pity parties.
Ever.
You see, in Traceyville, everyday is a good hair day. People from all over America live solely to see what the next incredible tablescape I come up with looks like, and I can eat homemade coconut ice cream non-stop without ever thinking about it finding a home on my hips.
Or my patootie.
Or my where-ever.
In Traceyville, I am constantly a stunning example of cutting edge fashion, whether I am mowing the yard, or going to work. Folks cannot believe I am old enough to have six grandchildren. I never, ever find a stray eyebrow on my chin.
Ralph absolutely hangs on my every word in the sweet town of Traceyville, and he is gob-smacked at my never-ending ability to make cuter-than-the-last-time place cards for our little dinner table. My lip gloss never needs refreshing.
I have a fabulous supply of overstock custom banners and papercrafts neatly tucked away, waiting to go on the shelves in my case at Camas Antiques, and Michelle Obama's secretary just emailed me about possibly doing invitations for one of the girl's birthday parties.
Oh yes.
Traceyville.
Do you have a place like Traceyville that you go to on occasion? If so, what do you do (or not do!) there?
Hmmm?
