March 16, 2011

Halfway Through

I decided to fill up on your posts today, sampling and reading and commenting in between the chaos that is our home now, with my daughter and her three kids visiting.  I could really relate to those who talked about looking for the slice each day, and esp. Ruth's post about Just Enough.  Wanda talked about showing her class her writing, teaching them that teachers write, too.  Kevin's Parts of Speech post made me eternally grateful to his diligence.  I know his students won't languish in college remedial classes.  Deb wrote about snakes (brave woman), Elsie about a cedar sapling volunteer who got yanked, and Bonnie's post about popcorn, grandchildren and digital games was an echo to what I'm living here. And I've many more to sample, but dinner prep calls, and I should probably clean up a bit before my husband arrives.  Thank you to you all for your writing!

Two tiny slices:
I couldn't find my car keys (if you saw my house, scattered from here to there with little toys, you'd know why) so I grabbed my husband's.  Riley, the four-year-old asked me, as I headed out the door: "Are you late, Grandma?"  "Yes!" I said vigorously.  He paused.  "Are you SO late?"  I laughed and said no.  I guess there are degrees of lateness in their house.

That night Keagan, the eight-year-old, looked at my quilt in progress, smoothed up on my pin wall.
"Oh, Grandma," she said.  "I think that's your best quilt ever!"


  1. What a relief to realize you are only late, not SO late! :)

  2. That is a beautiful quilt! So much color. Out of the mouths of babes. Great for getting slices.

  3. I am amused that I connected to your comments about connecting to what other people write. Reading the slices other people write is so much a part of the fun!

  4. Yes, your quilt is gorgeous! I like filling up on slices too, good for you to reference those that speak to you.

  5. SO late. . .yeah, there are degrees to everything. Or at least I think so. Sometimes my problem is learning when those degrees do and don't matter.