My quote from yesterday: "I think I accidentally made a quilt top today." The short story: I did something to my right leg on Saturday - seems like a minor quadriceps strain - and since Jeff was out of state all weekend, I opted to stay home and stay off my leg to let it rest.

Idle minds...

...find the equilter scrap bag and say, OOOOH I WONDER WHAT TROUBLE I COULD GET INTO -- LOOK! COLORS!

This is not a real update. This is a set of three photos carefully constructed as a plausible update.

This is the next-to-last night I'll have to work on Das Blinkenlights, as I have a four-hour appointment with a longarm quilter on Saturday morning. Regardless of what the quilt thinks, she's going under the needle on Saturday because Sheila is NOT getting any less pregnant by the day.

As usual, someecards.com nails it:

All merits / demerits of the plan aside, I have to agree with the card. :)

I recognize that St. Patrick's Day, the day of gluttonous boozahol-ing, is perhaps the wrong day to announce this, but I would like to make a proclamation to my friends: STOP HAVING SEX. I know it's fun and all, but Tenzing wants you to know that he can no longer churn out the baby quilts fast enough to keep up with my rapidly-multiplying set of friends, because you know what it's driven us to do? Yep: take a longarm quilting class.

Thanks, esmerel! She taunts me from California with cupcakes I can't have unless i make one of these recipes: Smitten Kitchen's "chocolate whiskey and beer cupcakes" or "Chocolate Guinness Stout Cupcakes with Chocolate Ganache and Bailey's Buttercream Swirl"

What's sad is that my brain doesn't know if it wants a beer or a cupcake.

This quilt has a secret. I'd intended to make a game of it, but someone spilled the beans on Flickr.