Somethings I know about myself:
As much as I hate to admit it, my grammar and punctuation suck.
While I shouldn’t, I often begin sentences with “I” or “And”. The shame is immense.
My use of the semicolon is dismal; however, I love the semicolon.
The quarter inch seam is as elusive as the lost city of Atlantis.
My youngest son announced at 5:50 AM that he was a rooster and his job was to Cocka Doodle Do from the rooftop to make sure the family was awake. (He was in our bed, and thankfully not on the roof.)
(Oh, and I love parentheticals.)
Pretty sure we are done having babies which has me desperately sad and somewhat relieved.
Two nights ago I dreamed about Jane’s Allotment quilt throughout the night.
I dropped out of College.
Tom Waits and Bob Dylan are my favorites.
I am adopted. Can I tell you how shameful I feel for not knitting for the Red Scarf Project? That could have been me, easily.
One of my favorite words is idiopathic.
Though I am 38, almost (August 22) 39 I have yet to feel like a grown up.
My Mom looks better than me (and most) than I ever will. We each have our lot in life.
My husband’s love confounds me on a daily basis.
My kids will call out “Mom!!!!!!!!!!!!” and then I realize they are calling me. How did I get to be the mom? Yes, I do understand biology…
Being the Change I want to see in the World is hard and wonderful and awful all at the same time.
Post Secret is a guilty pleasure.
Both my kids are in school all day, 5 days a week and while I have MANY things to occupy me I often wonder what to do.
The thought of them leaving home is crushing to me.
The “Let’s cure everything RIGHT NOW” culture really weighs on me.
I have never, ever checked my stats for who or how many of you read this blog. Ever. It would make me too nuts.
I love you all (whoever you are)!
Crap! The iron is on upstairs! Crap!
Oh- I hate wooden spoons of all varieties.
My current obsession is knitting that resembles marquetry floors!