I consider myself a fairly responsible person. I juggle tasks reasonably and have been a passably acceptable multitasker. However, when routines and unexpected moments burst open like a popped bubble, all bets are off. In fact, in just one such occasion, I almost caught my house on fire.
That’s right: I have broken the curse on my winter rosettes quilt, the most complicated quilt I’ve ever made that has created more problems than I’ve ever had sewing anything. For backstory, you can read here, here, here, here, here, and here.
Before we loaded up our rental van, I was on the verge of tears. Big tears. I didn’t even want to go on vacation. I wanted to hide in my bedroom, shut the door, and cry, cry, cry followed by a weeklong bout of sleep. I was hardly in the state of mind to begin a two-week vacation with my beloved husband, our two foster kiddos, and Marmy the Motoring Marmot. July has been a stressful wreck in-between all the work, both professional and educational, and other life changes.