We’ve had our home study for foster/adopt liscensure. Our bedrooms are a few inches too small to make up the proper square footage for multiple occupancy. An exception may be able to be granted, but the person who can make that decision is out of the office for surgery until July. Thus, we must wait. I’m going to be quite frustrated if it doesn’t go through. We’ve purchased two new mattresses (a friend was kind enough to donate a bunk bed frame they were getting rid of) and a minivan, rearranged a bunch of stuff in the house, and purchased locking storage for all the toxic chemicals in the house. Not to mention taken hours and hours of training, and gotten our hopes all up. Gah! I guess I should have measured the bedrooms first.
The kids and I had a fun trip to Wyoming to attend the baptism of my youngest sister’s oldest son. Aunt A and Uncle J rode out there with us in the aforementioned minivan, and did a lot of the driving. A good time was had by all. Uncle I got us a rockin’ deal on a nice hotel room. When I checked in, the girl at the desk asked me if I was the bishop’s wife’s sister, as I evidently looked just like her (and I was one of a number of parties checking in under “the bishop’s” group reservation). I’m flattered because my sister has always been better looking than me, but it was a little startling to be identified as the bishop’s wife’s sister by the hotel clerk. Dunno why, just the context I think. It wasn’t at all odd to be introduced as the bishop’s daughter in my parents’ ward a few years back when Dad was the bishop there.
While there I drove down south a bit and met up with an old friend from another lifetime who drove a bit north from where she lived and we got to see each other for the first time in almost 20 years. It’s hard to fathom that anything I remember so well could possibly have happened 20 years ago. I must be getting old (ha!). It was sure good to see her again, though. Many eons ago she was almost like another sister, but we had lost touch with each other after the end of high school sent us flying off in different directions. I’ve wondered about her often over the years, and finally tracked her down a while back. I’ve talked to her on the phone a couple of times since, but hadn’t seen her until the trip. Aunt A and Uncle J watched the kids for me, and I met my friend and her husband for dinner. It was fun hearing about her kids and her job and her faith and how her life has come together since last we met.
Pop had a birthday. He thinks he’s old. He’s not, though, because he’s only a year older than me, and I’m not ready to be old yet.
My birthday is coming up. I want fat quarters. The fabric kind, not the kind that means I’ve been eating too much. That kind I’ve got already. (For those of you who are not fabricaholics, fabric is sold by the yard, or in fractions of a yard. A “fat quarter”, also known as a “quarter flat” is a quarter of a yard of fabric. But if you cut a quarter of a yard the “normal” way, what you get is a strip of fabric that’s 9 inches wide and 45(ish)-60(ish) inches long, the width of the loom the fabric was made on (usually 45 for quilting fabric). Which is an awkward shape. So for a “fat” quarter, they cut a half yard of fabric, 18 inches, and then cut it in half again the other way so it’s still a quarter yard, but it’s a fat rectangle, 18×22 ish, rather than a long skinny rectangle. At quilt shops and lots of fabric shops they have racks of them that have been pre-cut and neatly folded around a cardboard rectangle so you can just go in and browse through them like a card file. They’re usually organized by color. Any color or pattern is great–half the fun is seeing who picked out what. I’m looking more for medium and dark tones at present though, rather than very pale fabrics.)
Which brings me to the next thing. I’ve started a new quilt project. I find stitching very therapeutic–and I think we can all agree I need therapy. 
To increase the therapeutic effects, I’ve signed up for a quilting class at a nearby quilt shop so I can get “out” once a month for some Mom time. I’ve decided to hand piece this one, because a) I’ve never hand pieced an entire full-sized quilt before, b) hand piecing is very portable, and I can stick it in my purse and work on it during all those hurry-up-and-wait times as well as while watching tv, c) my sewing machine is on the fritz and needs a trip to the shop, and d) I find the quiet, contemplative hand stitching very soothing on my nerves. But mostly because it sounds like fun. If the hand stitching weren’t enough of an indicator of the level of my insanity, have a look at the quilt pattern (the colors in mine will be quite different). It’s called a “Dear Jane” quilt, patterned after a Civil War era quilt made by a lady by the name of Jane Stickle. It’s a sampler quilt, with 169 pieced blocks (each 4.5 inches square) in the center, surrounded by a border made up of 52 pieced triangles, 52 un-pieced triangles, and 4 corner kites, with a scalloped border; and judging by the discussion at the class and the reactions I’ve received from interested stitching friends and acquaintances, a “Dear Jane” strikes fear into the heart of even avid and experienced stitchaholics. I have to tell you, though, I’m REALLY enjoying it so far. Each block is different, which keeps things from getting too monotonous. It’s like 169 little jewels in a fancy jewel box. I’ve purchased some nifty software that lets me print out templates for all the patterns. I’m having a really good time with all the little shapes and colors. This is why I want the fat quarters for my birthday. I don’t want the same fabrics to repeat too frequently in the blocks. Fat quarters make me feel like a kid in a candy shop. Your honor, I rest my case. I think there’s no need to further demonstrate my insanity.
School-wise, we missed quite a number of days this winter and spring due to illness, so we’re plowing on into the summer, but at a reduced pace. For a change of scenery, we’re going through the first portion of Winter Promise’s All American I curriculum. I’m really quite enjoying it, and it’s working well for both of the kids. I do want to get enough done so we can maybe take August off, though. Cricket’s resistance has diminished considerably since we began our homeschool adventure, but it does wear me down after a while.
