Cutsy Quilter

Definitely harder to be "cutsy" these days.....

"I don't know who is shooting those arrows of grief, but they have a lot of them, each one an alchemist turning the initially happy golden thought into leaden grief in an instant"

My brother is so amazing, so eloquent.  He wrote that line in an email expressing his difficulty getting through parts of his day these days.  It so sums up how I feel....our sister's car is now in our driveway making the big reality harder to cover up with one of my imaginary quilts.  No quilt is that big.


The good news is that I am back from the Martha Pullen Show in Orlando, sleeping in my bed.  The better news is how well received the book was.  The best will be when the weekend comes and not only will I be here with the knowledge that the book has had a great start, but, TOM will be here, as well, sleeping (maybe not so much sleeping?) right next to me......


The return trip from Orlando went fairly smoothly except for just a few itty bitty bumps.  Jeez, the biggest bumps were in the road, itself.   I had heard several years ago that Louisiana was voted "worst roads in America" by 18-wheeler drivers.  Hurmph. I do not think those guys were delivering in Florida.  I would need new teeth if I were a regular on that pavement.  The other "bumps" were gas and cell phone issues.  (Are they putting gas stations further apart these days?)  Hell-o-o, girls....


Brandy and I were frantically looking for the next exit-with-a-gas-station while the indicator needle was playing pat-a-cake with the light on the gauge.  We had been deep in conversation for hours, playing with ideas of how to pack the car in less than 6 hours, how to stop being the very very last one to finish at every show, when..uh-oh.....  What happened to the cars with the audible warnings????  Don't you think we should be able to carry on a simple conversation w/o having to check the gas gauge every few hours?!?!?!   Wait, an exit with gas...more uh-oh's...going too fast to turn...o-o-o-o-ops, I recognize that sound--more accurately, lack of sound--we are, officially, out-of-gas!.  Luckily, we had that container for emergencies just like this.  We put some in the tank.  BE-U-tiful.  The car started right up.  The problem?  We were just past the exit.  So, I took a page from Mother's Convict's Book of Driving, and backed that baby down the interstate, onto that errant ramp, and GAS.  No worries.  Back on the road to home.  It could have been so much worse.  


About 30 minutes later,  I start to give Tom an update on our whereabouts.  Crap. Where is the phone?  Hmmm.   I do seem to remember a certain noise as I got out of the car to get the gas.  I thought it was the seat belt hitting the door frame.  Do you wonder why I do my best NOT to think???  I used Brandy's phone to call mine and I get a very deep, very Southern, "Hello?" 


"Who is this?" I ask.
"Someone who found this phone," he responded.  Then, he added, "It ain't purdy, but it still seems to work!"  


Amazing.  That thump had been my cell phone falling out of the car. Even more amazing, I had apparently run over it with my car. 

I would not make a very good hunter.  I gave that phone a direct hit---still keeps on ticking!  The guy was right, not purdy, but it still works.  I am headed to the ATT store and see if they want me to do testimonials--after all, if I have to replace it, this will be my 7th phone in less than two years!


One thing before I close this lengthy, long overdue conversation.  Thanks to all of you for your grrrreat support, for continuing to check in to see if I am still in the "weee-e-e-e-e-e-e" of my life.  Love to each and every one.