A Riot of African Flowers

Work progresses on my stained-glass African flowers, but I'm not entirely sure what I should do with them. At the moment, I'm leaning towards cushion covers for the sofa I'm going to have when I'm all grown up. (Mr Gingerbread and I have yet to find a sofa we both like: he's a good foot taller than I am, so the sofas he likes make me feel like Goldilocks in Papa Bear's chair.) I used to think I wanted enormous beanbags, and the idea is still vaguely tempting, I must admit, but we've established that napping is a priority in our lives. Not that we get to take as many naps as we would like to, but when we do, a sofa is more practical than a beanbag. A nap on a beanbag would probably find you spreadeagled on the floor at some point - and rudely landing on the floor, limbs akimbo, is a definite sign of a failed nap, I'm afraid.