Becoming an Expert on All Things Yucky

In other words, being a parent.

Why is it that many childhood illnesses sound so ... gross?  The names alone fill every parent with shame - especially when they have to call the school to say something like, "She won't be in today because she has HAND, FOOT & MOUTH DISEASE."  (And the reply on the other end of the phone is a profesionally sympathetic and yet still slightly eeked out, "Oh, ok.")  Despite the embarrassment, you want to alert the teacher in case other children fall ill.

But I'll tell you exactly how to make your child feel better:  let her have ice cream for breakfast, followed by an all-you-can-eat buffet of rainbow colored popsicles (in between bouts of Tylenol, medicinal mouthwash & frequent hand-washing) while watching High School Musical 3 over & over & over ...

And now I have a date with my washing machine and some bleach ...  'cause apparently this thing is highly contagious.


Anecdote First, Then Apology

Scene:  Waiting room of a walk-in medical clinic.  It’s been five minutes since the main characters - a mother and her 6 year old daughter - arrived.  Several other really sick people are also waiting and they got in earlier. 

The mother didn’t come prepared for a long wait.  She’s reluctantly reading an old, germy issue of People magazine, trying to enjoy red carpet fashions and decide who looked better in the same dress while attempting to avoid contact with the invisible human debris that is lurking on the pages just waiting to infect her. 

The daughter is becoming restless with boredom.  The mother searches her coat pockets for a cell phone which miraculously a) she has with her and b) isn’t dead.  The mother offers the phone to the daughter who is excited to have something fun to play with instead of the Fisher Price house that’s seen better days.  After a few minutes of playing a game on the cell phone…

Daughter:  Mummy.    Mummy.    MUmmy.

Mother:  Yes?

Daughter:  Can I play with the calculator?

Mother:  What calculator?

Daughter:  The one on your phone.

Mother:  There’s a calculator on my phone?

Daughter:  Yes, right here.  See?

Mother:  (A little surprised, she smiles and gently shaking her head as she admires her daughter’s intelligence.)  Hmm. Whatta ya know.  Sure.

A few minutes of calculating go by.

Daughter:  Mummy.    Mummy.    MUmmy.

Mother:  Mhmmm?

Daughter:  Can I use the camera?

Mother:  What camera?

Daughter:  The one on your phone.

Mother:  There’s a camera on my phone?

Daughter:  Yes, right here.  See?

Mother:  (A little more surprised and slightly concerned at how much more her daughter knows about her phone than she does, she furrows her eyebrows.)  Uh.  Ok.

Several photos later …

Daughter:  Mummy.  Mummy.  MUmmy.

Mother:  What is it, Honey?

Daughter:  Can I video you?

Mother:  You can record video with my phone?

Daughter:  Yes, like this.  See?

Mother:  (Suddenly looks terrified as she realizes she doesn’t even have a ticket for the technology transport that’s leaving the station with her daughter at the helm.)

                              *          *          *          *          *

This story is intended to illustrate my occasional technical ineptitude.  And to help explain that if you tried to subscribe to my blog last week (probably most if not all of you are my closest & dearest friends because I emailed you and begged you to), it wasn’t set up properly.  Sorry ‘bout that.  But it’s working now (see column on right), if you want to try again. 

Between you and me, it’s a miracle I even have this blog.  And I did it all by myself.  Well, except for the several dozen emails to/from the Technical Support Dept, but they just sent me links to videos on how to fix my setup issues … and kindly reassured me a few times that I didn’t need to cry.


Note to Self #1

Every now and then, I'll be sharing little pearls of wisdom - sometimes funny things, often things resulting from my forgetfullness, bad judgement, laziness, absentmindedness, etc.  My goal is to help you avoid the same mistakes.  And/or to make you smile.

Here's the first installment.  Read, learn and enjoy.


  • ask your daughter to pick out her favorite fabric from your sewing room stash ("Oh no reason, Sweetheart.  Just curious.")
  • wait until she’s at school to start making her a birthday gift
  • smugly hide the evidence before she comes home, but then
  • forget to dispose of the scraps in the garbage can

Because when said short person notices the remnants you WILL be asked:  "Mommy, what are you making with my fabric?"

Parenthood requires you to be good at a lot of things - like thinking on your feet, remaining calm under pressure ... and lying.


Paisley & Me

I used to dislike paisley.  Almost to the point of hating it.

As in had a negative emotional response whenever I saw it. 

I have absolutely no idea why.  I don’t recall a bad experience with it.  (I did, however, endure the “what were you thinking” fashion sense as a child in the 70s ...) 

Anyhow, one day I learned the symbolism of the paisley motif:  it depicts a sprouting seed and symbolizes new life.  If you can give me the back story or history of something, I'm usually far more interested in it.   This new piece of information made me look at paisley in a different way with a softer, more compassionate attitude.

Since then I’ve developed a sort of friendship with paisley, mostly as it relates to quilting fabric in my stash (don't think I'd ever have drapes made with it or a sofa covered in it).

For example, when it comes to choosing fabrics for a project, I think about more than just color. 

I also pay attention to these print elements – all of which contribute to the project's end result:

  • scale (small, medium, large)
  • subject matter (flora, fauna, geometric, ...)
  • direction (parallel, diagonal, random, ...)
  • movement (busy, quiet, ...)
  • personality (traditional, delicate, sweet, ...)
  • mood (happy, serene, vibrant, ...)
  • texture (printed, woven, glazed, ...)

For me, paisley can be very … bossy.

But sometimes it adds just the right amount of something to perk up a quilt. 

Regardless of my continuing hit & miss results with paisley, I don’t ignore it anymore. 

Sometimes I invite it to play with the other prints in my stash. 

And on a really good day, it makes its way into one of my quilts.

Page 1 ... 39 40 41 42 43