Another One Bites the Dust

That headline didn't come out right.

What I meant was, Another One Writes Like Us!

One day an email arrived in my inbox from an American reader who lives in Ireland—and she quilts, nonetheless. So far, three for three. Just call it internet dating…for friendship.

And so I emailed back and arranged to meet. Sorta like when you find a sweater that fits you perfectly, you don’t just buy one, you buy one in every color. I went beyond the ordinary, “Nice to meet you” and I said, “Hi, when, where and how do I get to meet you in person?”

Finding an American woman, in Ireland, who is my age bracket, who quilts, who is a mother, who lives nearby is a win-win. Heck, even if I don’t like her, with all those things parallel, it’s cardinal law that I be her friend.

Fortunately I do like her. A lot.

Early one morning I loaded Babydoll and Cutiepie into the car and set off to meet this American.

Following the crunch of Christmas and our *cough*qualityoflife*cough* choice, cash is stretched to say the least. Anne Marie, American reader abroad—sounds lovely, doesn’t she?—had said she had begun to get back into quilting recently and was anxious to do more. Keeping to my budget and knowing Ireland’s limited quilting retail, I decided on one gift our hostess might appreciate. I scoured my fabric stashes for some select fat quarters of my personal favorites. Cutiepie helped me tie a ribbon on the five or so folds and off we went.

People, have you ever taken a wind up car and offered it up to a Mercedes Benz collector? Take a moment and visualize that. Yeah, that was me.

Anne Marie had the most gorgeous stash after stash of fat quarters. Designer fabrics in matching kits, I only had dreamed of seeing in the lushness of my homeland. Otherwise known as aisle eleven of JoAnne Fabrics Craft Super Store. I had to hold my mouth shut just so I wouldn’t drool on the stuff. It was a humbling few moments.

But you know, Anne Marie, she ain’t all that. First of all, I doubt seriously she would go for a splashy Mercedes. She has the spunk and fun of that wind up car. Secondly, she put me at ease irregardless of my blunder. And thirdly, she makes you feel at home, which was great as my kids were virtually invisible during our nonstop chatterfest thanks to her daughter and sons, who I reckon are as entertaining hosts as their mother.

We talked and talked and laughed and laughed. She’s begun a blog, and I’m happy to introduce her on my blog. She is funny. Most of you know I’m smitten with Pioneer Woman; well folks, PW has a contender. Anne Marie is a true funny *cough*pretending-to-be-naive *ahem* Farmer Girl *ahem* *cough*-to-get-out-of-work-on-the-ranch*cough*, not to be missed. Check her out.

We left her lovely abode and set off home. But not before we finished off her generous supply of Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookies (yummy). In delight I clenched tightly to some lovely fabric she insisted I have. Quite unlike me, I’ve even already used some of the gorgeous peachy orange cotton in my nine patch fish squares.




I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to find and meet other bloggers in Ireland. I’ve been fortunate to meet Cathi, another American, and she has opened my channels to people far and wide, down under in Oz, cross the water in England, even over the way in Africa.

Though, I have yet to meet a true blue (green?) Irish lass blogger. What about all those great Irish writers?

In case you don’t recognize it, that’s a challenge to all you Irish ladies: Start your blog. Write. Tell us your stories. Tell us porky pies (that’s ‘lies’ to you Yanks). I don’t care; just entertain us. Because goodness knows I’d love to add another blog to my reading list, cause you know, like, really, like totally I have all the time in the world. Don't you?