The post with the pharmacist pillow.

If I wanted to decorate my house in a way that would constantly remind me and announce to all who entered that I was a teacher, I would need only go to the nearest craft fair and visit maybe two booths. Wooden apples, yardsticks that say "Teachers rule" (har har), crayon/glue/chalk fabric out of which trendy clothing apparel can be fashioned...we've got all of our decor and fashion needs covered.

How often do you see home decor, though, that proudly announces, "There's a pharmacist in this house!"? I have seen nary a wooden pill anywhere. And fabric with medicine on it? Pffhht. Of course, this seeming void may have something to do with the fact that a wooden pill would not look very attractive sitting on your bookshelf. And I'm pretty sure that there is not a market for vests with Lipitor and Cymbalta printed on them. That would sort of be like a walking HIPPA violation.

Anyway, that's why I am so excited to have made this pillow for Rick:

It started out as this:

Then morphed with the help of an old beige curtain so that the rusty fabric wouldn't show through the burlap:

Then morphed again when covered with a hot glued burlap pillow form:

Then was finished off when I used a black permanent marker to doodle on the design, inspired by these trays that I spotted while touring West Elm's new arrivals.

I hoped that the appearance of this pillow would help Rick hurdle the complex he's developed due to his career of choice being so pitifully under-represented at Joann's, and good news--he loves it! He was actually so inspired that he asked that my next project be a Hydrocodone pantsuit, but I gently reminded him that A) that might be interpreted the wrong way by the less-legal drug dealers of the world and B) I really can't sew anything except straight lines.Oh, well.