Deep Calming Breaths

Do you know that feeling? The one where you just spent hours at the computer and somehow failed to save your work and it just disappears? That happened to my blog this morning. My heart dropped to my feet and beyond. I am not trying to say anything great about myself, just that I like my blog. I like seeing what was going on in my life a couple of months ago. I never kept a diary and now think that  maybe I should have.

Or maybe not. This blog is better because (a) it's got pictures and like a child with books, the best ones must have pictures, (b) I get to share it, and (c) this one is important - I have to look at my life with a fresh eye. I have been a stay at home mother for over ten years now. There has been the odd (one in particular very odd) part time job but, really, for the most part I have been here at home.

Nothing wrong with that. I established that in a particularly ranty post a while ago. But there is a common thing that happens with us behind the scenes, taking care of life people. We become invisible. And we say things like 'I have no life!' Well I have discovered I do have a life.

Not because I write a blog. That doesn't validate me, it just makes me happy. No, I have a life because I have had to look at myself from a new angle and discovered that all sorts of nice little things happen to me on a daily basis. I do fun things. I make people close to me happy. They make me happy. I get to do some of the things I love all the time - cooking and sewing. Damn, I have a fine life and I am a very lucky person. And though I always knew that deep down, writing the blog has made me far more aware of the whole matter.

So I went to log on this morning and my great little life was gone! I couldn't access it. And after a while I couldn't even see it any more. So just imagine how happy I am to be talking to you once again. I have no idea how it was fixed. I was messaging other invisible people, those behind the scenes at Google, and never got a reply back. Just highlighted at the top of the page words that said something along the lines of We know there is a problem and we are looking into it. Well, apparently they were telling the truth. I like those invisible people at Google.

By now you may have lost the will to live having read all of that but I am going to tell you more. I am going to tell you that I HAVE A NEW FRIEND. Yes, yesterday was wonderful. Jane is so very lovely, and Canadian so she understands completely the importance of having a basement and how living without one is so difficult. We talked, and then talked, and then talked some more. (I am sure that you find that very surprising about me.)

Jane even gave me a little gift -

The mug is so pretty and the chocolates, well she must be clairvoyant to know that I like chocolates! (There were more chocolates but I couldn't restrain myself before I took the photo.)

You might like to see a photo of Jane, and the quilt shops we went to. Don't be ridiculous. You don't think that I was clever enough to remember my camera, do you? If you want to see Jane you will have to hop on over to her blog and check her out there.

I did take a couple of photos of the fabric that I managed to latch onto between talking for England once I was home.

Nice? I think so. In that assortment is the fabric that I intend to make Lily's Quilts Double Fat Jack. I'm not telling which ones. I may change my mind.

So enough typing. My house is a tip. Shocking, I know, but it is. I must see to at least some of it. Not sure about hoovering though. After that last spider fest they seem to be getting bigger, and meaner, and scarier, and just more. Where do they all come from and why? If you don't believe me, I just took this photo sitting in my office chair because I looked up and almost jumped out of my skin.

Do you really think that HUGE one will fit down the nozzle because I am not doing it unless you think I can definitely get away with it? I wouldn't want that one pissed off unless there was a solid plastic canister between me and her. John can empty the hoover when he is home if I do get it in there. Because I may have to remove the hoover to the garage in case I can hear her knocking and calling my name.

Susan