These days, should you happen to wander into my study, you would be confronted by beer can corner, between two book cases, tucked right beside the treadmill, all along the wall. I was showing pictures taken inside my study to someone the other day, and they asked what those things were in the background. (They used a very odd tone of voice. I think they were worried) The universe shifted ever so slightly, and I had a defining moment.
It seems I have a collection of beer bags. It is starting to be impressive in its own right.
Hello, my name is Needles. I play with strings and needles, I read, I collect cheap blue and white china, and free beer bags.
Beer bags are where my two personal crisis of faith have collided. Mr. Needles (who drinks the occasional beer) the pleasant result from crisis one, and a reinvigorated joy of yarn from crisis two. The universe is unfolding as it should.
The universe has a strange sense of humour.