We spent a quiet weekend lounging around, mostly. We ate guacamole and chips, took naps, and read books.
Today it became apparent the weekend was over; by 9 a.m. we were at the doctor with Addie, who's come down with a summer case of bronchitis. Two hours later, we ran back home for lessons, then drove down to the pharmacy to load up. We skipped naptime, instead spending our time up in my sewing room playing with buttons while I finished up the quilt top that made my hands stop itching. After a slightly-obsessive Saturday afternoon piecing, the strips were ready to be assembled. I have the top and the backing ready, but no cotton for batting. Another weekend, I suppose.
I called my mom, who's vacationing, and talked her into doing a quilt-along with me this fall. I assured it will be fun (Her experience quilting with her quilting group was less so; they were very intent on "rules."), and that we'd pick out something fun and pretty to do sort of together, sort of over the phone. I'm not intent on rules; I don't know enough about quilting to really know any! So she agreed.
I also realized I'm a few short months away from Christmas, which seems crazy on days when it's 106. (Today while driving back my car overheated, which makes the a/c cut off, and it said "109" on my dashboard thermostat. So we got milkshakes.) I had grand notions of having a mostly handmade Christmas last year, but those dreams evaporated when suddenly it was December 15th and I hadn't made much. Just knitted snakes for the boys, who've draped them over their dresser next to the shed snakeskins of the rat snake who lives under the laundry room steps outside.
This year, I have visions of a tiny cradle quilt for Addie's babies, and knitted mice in long johns, and gifts for others I can't divulge here. (They read.) I figure by starting thinking about it in August, I'll have a better chance at seeing it happen.
Today, however, it's too hot to think about yarn. Smoothies sound good for dinner, especially to Addie, who has stopped eating. She's not a big eater on a good day, but bronchitis kills her appetite. I'm dreaming of fall weather, holding out hope that it will come this year, despite what my car thermostat says today.
Tonight we're home alone, while my husband is working late. Legos, Andrew Peterson singing in the background, laundry to be folded, baths to take and meds to give. It's not the weekend anymore, but I'm thankful for today, just the same.