The elusive Free-time of a certain crafty young woman, with the epithet of Vixen, ran helter-skelter throughout the universe. Free-time was loathe to decelerate from it’s kamikaze party life and stop to visit Vixen. She was wearisome and humdrum. Free-time felt ignored and unappreciated by Vixen. But alas, you can only run uncontrolled for so long before you crash and burn. Vixen, ever the clever one, patiently waited and one day reached out and grabbed Free-time by the tail.

“Ah, ha!”, squealed Vixen. “You are mine for the day!” Vixen remembered a day, long ago, when she had started to make Butterball some pajamas. One of the pair had been completed right away (the Eeyore print), yet the other two had languished. One was actually in a state of partial completion. Whilst Vixen’s spousal unit slaved away behind the computer screen all day, valiantly fighting the bad guys in Battlefield2; Vixen was able to complete another pair of pj’s.

img_7033.jpg As Vixen slaved over this little green alien outfit, she decided that those little booty things on the bottom there? They were too challenging to be a part of her day with Free-time. In fact, they took entirely too much of Free-Time’s attention. All too soon, Vixen felt her grasp on Free-time loosening. Free-time had gained strength and slipped away from Vixen’s clutching fingers, flitting off in the direction of next year.

Vixen was saddened by the loss. She took comfort in the cuddly pj’s which she could not fit into, but managed to warm an arm with. Then she looked at this picture and saw the lovely crochet blanket behind the pj’s and once again mourned the loss of Free-time because, dang, it was a purty blanket and she recalled when she and Free-time had made it…long, long ago.

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