Home Sweet Home

Thanks for the sweet comments on last post. Yes, I too reread that post 11 times a day, to remind myself how lucky I am. We had a fantastic time in Houston, personally and professionally, and well, most quilters would count a zillion stitches if they could meet half the people we met. It is just proof that everyone's hard work is paying off--it is also huge validation, that if you try, you can. You can! You can!

And we will.

Despite all the joy and the hob-knobbing, there still a long uphill road ahead of us. But first, let's celebrate. RDS. Dublin. 29Oct-1Nov. Be there or be square.



I love me America, but I love me family more. My girls are so precious! And DH done good since my absence Friday. The girls made it to school three out of three days, in their uniforms nonetheless. I was welcomed by a sparkling kitchen sink and a checked and emptied office voicemail.

If it weren't for a demanding pint-size customer at my lunch box counter this morning, I almost would not have known there was chocolate spread sandwiches for all. three. lunches. Uh oh.


Alas, those infamous words, "But daddy made them for all our lunches!" Ah ha.

And in true tradition, he responds, "I asked and that was all she wanted."


Yeah, and if there was Coke Cola in the fridge, she would have insisted on that in her drink container, sucker boy.


Seriously, you have to laugh when a man, thirty-nine years old, six feet and three inches tall, two-hundred-pounds heavy, says, "I had to. She told me to!"
"She" being under three feet tall and weighing less than my packed suitcase somewhere abouts 32kilo.

Oh I still give him a passing grade, otherwise I might not get out of dodge again anytime soon!

Besides, this surprising-he-can-walk-with-no-backbone defense has been around long since our Babydoll began barking orders.

Orders, only a whupped daddy would follow.

I'm home. Home sweet home.