I’m cheating today because I have nothing else to show you. The explanation for having nothing else to show you comes later, but first, take a look at this beauty:
I inherited this quilt from my mom’s cousin, Helen. When Helen died, her husband sent my mom a bunch of quilts—at least half a dozen—and Mom gave them to me. Mom said Helen’s mother or step-mother might have made them. Regardless, I cherish them all and feel so very fortunate to be the one providing a home for them.
As near as I can tell, the piecing appears to have been done by hand, as was the quilting. The uniformity of the stitching along the binding, however, looks to have been done on a machine.
I also like the way the border sizes don’t match. It makes you wonder if the quilter was trying to use up what was left of her fabric.
Now for the reason I cheated on today’s post:
It happened a week ago Tuesday. I felt the hit of forced air squarely in my face. Can it really be true that the man sitting adjacent to me on the bleachers in the gym just unloaded a cough/sneeze/snort/choke smack in my direction with no effort to block its projectile?
Five days later, my throat has swollen to the size of Pike’s Peak, followed by four sleepless nights of incessant draining/coughing/choking. Complete misery. Three listless, fog-headed, mind-numbing days on the sofa. When did television become this lame? More misery. We’re down one box of tissues. I’m useless.
Thanks, mister. I lost a week of my life because of you. I might have expected this from a little kid, but not a grown up. I hope a meteorite crashes into your car.
The good news is that in less than three weeks, we will never, ever, again have to set foot in a public school.