In case you missed it, as I did, Neil has a lovely poem from 2000 up.
The weather is decidedly springish: cool, at times rainy, but sunshiny and welcoming enough that we all want to go outside, and frequently make up excuses to do so, even if it's just to hop out on the porch for a few minutes to check the mailbox.
The sewing machine arrived.And the cart to put it on, and the dress form, too. When the UPS guy delivered it all, he asked, "Who's the seamstress?" Well, calling myself a seamstress is a bit of a stretch, but we all have to have goals, right? We are heading to Floyd this weekend to visit the fabric store. I have a skirt in mind; Graeme wants a custom ghi, and Ethan is designing "an awesome dice bag." (Frankly, I have no idea what this last bit entails, but I'm completely intrigued and hope I'm up to the challenge it might present.)
Vivian is back on a schedule once again. The boys are as well, and we have set about establishing some house rules. This sounds a lot less exciting than it is, and has actually turned out to be a fantastic conversation. The results are pretty stellar, too. Kat has been a huge part of both the schedule and the conversation, and I am more convinced than ever that she is actually Mary Poppins in steampunk disguise.In really big news, I can zip my pre-pregnancy pants and skirts again at long last. Ten weeks later, I have clothes once again. All this brings me to my quote of the week: “Cultivate your curves—they may be dangerous but they won’t be avoided.” ― Mae West
