A short, sweet note: I owe both Brian and Crystal massive hugs of thanks. Both of them came to stay with me this weekend, and they asked what I needed. I hated admitting it, but what I needed was help housecleaning. Not just superficial tidying, but a really deep and thorough cleaning -- the kind of cleaning that helps set your house to rights.
Spring cleaning. Well, winter cleaning. I couldn't hold until spring, not with the house in the state it was and Jeff still hospitalized.
If you've gotten a quilt from me, I have a favor to ask of you. I realized just now that I've had a flickr group set up for some time now -- flickr.com/groups/amysquilts -- but I haven't really TOLD anyone about it, thus totally defeating the purpose of having a group on flickr. It's devoted to one thing:
While 'Remixed' is still a big stinking pile of do-over, the good news is that it's significantly more done now. I've been sitting on the couch listening to Jeff's television choices and ripping out stitches a column at a time, alternating between
The story of "Chaos Theory" is the story of an unlikely set of friendships, the kind of friendships that happen far more commonly in a far-flung internet age. It's also a story of introverts stepping out of their shells, of red-wine and third-story hotel rooms; of sign language and little girls with big brown eyes and bright smiles.
To cap off last night: the sinking sickening feeling of knowing one of my fabrics really and truly wasn't working in my quilt pattern. Jacob helpfully pointed out last night that this is the risk of doing everything myself: you get to take the credit for everything that goes right, but you have to take the blame for everything that goes wrong, too.