So of course, life moves steadily forward. We have had a bazillion every-day-adventures. Some pictures of a few will hopefully suffice for a catch-up of this month.
I tend to go through waxes and wanes when it comes to quilting. This summer, some fire got lit again under me and I was itching to start something almost the minute I returned. I had ordered a full set of fat 8ths (9" by 22") and had gotten an equally motivated friend to cut them into squares with me. Hundreds of squares, that is. I didn't realize quite how many until I laid them all out one night. And then became very overwhelmed, because they looked like this:
Um, uh oh?
Thanks to a homemade "design wall" (batting hung with push pins) in my dining room, all those squares actually turned into something really cool in not too much time. This was very cool because I was already itching to start project #2, with the main blue fabric brought home from Utah and the rest gifted to me by one of my favorite fabric friends. Want to make me really happy? Send me some fabric in the mail. I'll be yours forever.
I'll spend a post talking more details of both of these quilts soon. For now, I finished this latest top yesterday and I'm already excited about what will go up next on the wall. Putting together these quilts has been a fun, needed, therapeutic respite from the everydaynesses around here for me lately. And as an added bonus and due to the "design wall," the rest of the family has gotten to take part, giving their two bits as they stare at the projects during dinner. Zane's last comment about this one was, "I like this quilt because when you first look at it, it's just a quilt. But if you keep looking, you see there were some rules broken, which makes it more interesting..." Who knew I was a rule breaker, but Z is absolutely right.
Soren has reached that glorious (and sometimes maddening) stage of "two year old." He is creative, inquisitive, confident, and goofy, all wrapped up into one. He still doesn't talk much, but communicates remarkably well via sign language, grunts and hisses, and an occasional "aah-ee? (annie) and ay? (zane)." And of course, "DAD!" (said with excitement) and "MOM!" (said with disdain and a furrowed brow).
Soren is obsessed with trains these days, which is convenient since we have almost the entire island of Sodor family. He's added a new flare to the stories, usually with Annie's assistance:
I'm teaching some preschool music twice a week these days, and Soren has been my best little companion both weeks so far. We get to the room, he helps me lay out the carpet squares, then he finds his special blue one ("boo!") and sits while the kids shuffle in. We sing songs with hand gestures, he copies us; we bring out instruments, he passes them out; we stand up and sit down, he follows, always lagging just enough behind to delight the other children. Then one class leaves as another enters and we do it all again. He has been remarkable, and I'm so grateful to this particular preschool for being cool with him coming along (the other school I taught at last year wouldn't allow it). It feels good, this one hour and forty minutes of "work" I do every week.
Did you see the super moon? I feel like our other two chances were met with overcast skies and no luck. One night last week, though, was totally awesome! Of course, the picture doesn't do it justice. It felt like a fist-sized ball of gloriousness, a bright and shining beacon as we drove from our post-ballet treat to home. (Oh, and I promise the stoplight light was red all the way until I pushed "take a picture.") We loved being part of the masses who witnessed it.
We are about four weeks into school now. One of my favorite parts of the day is waiting for Annie to come down the hill behind the building after her day is over. She beats Zane by about 5 minutes, so we have a little chill time to talk about the day.
When we get home, she gets right to her homework. Usually, she sits in our front room while I sneak in a couple more minutes of sewing beside her in the dining room.
It is a happy couple of minutes.