"Out, I Say!"

You'll enjoy this tale of my abject frustration over this latest incident. On Saturday afternoon I walked around the longarm and saw this horrible, offensive spot on the area rug in the sewing room (circled in white). Immediately thinking that Hannes had either an "accident" or had been sick to his stomach, I ran to the cupboard for rags and the Resolve carpet cleaner. I scrubbed and scrubbed to no avail. The stain was dry, odorless and just as bright (and offensive looking) on the pad underneath when I pulled the rug back. I was stymied. I searched in the cabinet under the kitchen sink for something stronger, all I could manage to find was an old, half-full, can of Woolite foaming carpet cleaner.  I re-attacked the stain with the same vigor and had absolutely no luck at all. Losing at the stain-removal game is not something that I take lightly; completely at a loss, I stood up and walked around the rug. When I passed between the end of the rug and the sun streaming in through the window, the stain disappeared! Looking up, I spied the fluorescent green straight-edge quilting tool behind me shooting a reflection onto the rug from the sun's rays (circled in red). Sigh. I'd been defeated by an illusion!

Two days later the rug is still damp from all of my aggressive cleaning! I've apologized to poor Hannes who was quietly napping in his little bed in the family room by the fireplace while all of this was occurring; he's always a very good boy. 

You can believe that I was quoting Shakespeare as I scrubbed away on Saturday, 

Lady McBeth's line ran over and over through my mind: "Out ------ spot; out, I say!"

Things aren't always what they seem; and, this time, that was a good thing!

Life is Good!