I've been a bit remiss. I have been working on a quilt project but haven't been posting about it. I have been taking photos, though.

I did finally finish the top for 'Linus' but the only photo I have of it right now is a crappy fluorescent-lit shot:

I'm not posting this recipe publicly because I really like Cook's Illustrated, and would definitely recommend that people buy the magazine. Luckily, this is my site, and I can lock entries, which allows me to search for them later when I need them. Once a year or so, I have to go rooting through my stash of back issues of Cook's Illustrated to find That Gingerbread Recipe, because now that I've had it, no other will do.

I've been thinking about 2011. It's not going to be the year I had planned. I've been watching a lot of my well-set plans evaporating away -- DrupalCon Chicago might happen if Jeff is stable, but London's probably off the table -- and thinking that I need new plans.

I'm probably about to resume sewing; I think I'm ready. Initial targets are Eat this Quilt and Linus.

I will be dropping off the grid for a few days later this week, and staying with friends. I'm not posting this publicly because I don't feel like broadcasting that the house is empty, but I'm disclosing to those with accounts on cat.net, and posting a redacted version on my friends-locked facebook account.

This trip was planned before Jeff's accident, but its purpose has changed. Previously, it was a lighthearted, casual trip; now it is a lifeline. I need time to grieve, mourn, be angry, be quiet ... whatever my heart needs, without the constant need for a Brave Public Face.

I've realized in the past week or so that it is becoming increasingly necessary to develop some sort of signaling system for my friends while Jeff is hospitalized. In the past, my movements were communicated to Jeff, and vice versa, and we frequently checked on each other. We'd ping, verify, and move on, contented that all was well.

I've been intentionally silent here on cat.net. What few words I've had, have needed to go out to family and friends as updates regarding day-to-day changes in Jeff's condition and care. I keep telling everyone that what we face now is a marathon, not a sprint, and that means I'll have to change my tactics, too.