This is one of those posts. I haven't posted in a few days, so I'm going to overload you now with all this stuff I have saved up. This is something I wrote the day after Thanksgiving.
You remember Thanskgiving, right ladies? We were scurrying and flurrying about in the insanity that is the fourth Thursday of November. (The rolls cook for fifteen minutes at 400 and the broccoli casserole for forty at 350! Melt the marshmallows on the yams! Get Ouro Branco out of the jello! And don't forget to clean behind the refrigerator in case anyone peeks back there!) We were remarkably efficient and found ourselves putsing around with nothing to do an hour and a half before Guest Arrival Time.
I'm not a good putser. I can't even talk on the phone without some kind of multi-task thingy to do with my hands.
So I pulled out the quilt I'm making for my nephew. He doesn't really need it now, considering he's surrounded by amniotic fluid. But he's going to make his debut in a couple weeks and he's going to get COLD. And he won't want an unfinished quilt. And I had time.
My mother thought I was completely hilarious sewing on a fully decorated Thansgiving table. She even took a picture to document my nonconformity. But I look weird so I'm not posting it.
Things were smooth sailing until just a few minutes before Guest Time. I was frantically trying to finish a square, when suddenly the fabric seemed a little thick....
I took a picture to document my stupidity.
McKell - your quilt has a little tablecloth in it. No biggie.