Take My Breath Away

 You know that feeling when you realize you've done something really, really well?  There are lots of missteps and mistakes in our lives, some that just jump right out at us, some that make us feel like burying our heads in the deepest pile of sand we can find.  There are some things we do well, and they're fine, just what they should be.
  But every once in a while, we do something so fantastically well, make something so beautiful, it makes up for all our shortcomings.
  This morning, as I walked back into the library to finish pressing the hem on the Lee's Surrender, it simply took my breath away.  I've done something really, really well.  I might have overflowed the pineapple upside down cake yesterday, might have made some lopsided cakes, might not have finished training the new person on cupcakes this weekend, might not be exactly current on my bills, but THIS!  This, I did very, very well.  This, I exceeded my expectations.  This, I can be proud of.

Getting serged and separated

There have only been a few things I've felt this way about in my life:  my Tree of Life sweater, made on two flights from Tucson to Reno and back; Steve's Elm, a quilt of 51,200 pieces made for my then-boyfriend, a truly wonderful piece of handiwork that I should have taken with me when he broke up with me the second time; my son, who only improves with age.  And now, Lee's Surrender.  The red and blue are beautiful, and the eggplant one will be lovely, too, as soon as I figure out how to fix its mistake.
  The error appears to be a missed tabby throw, and I'll have to weave on in.  Not sure I can do it, but we will find out.

Until then, and for the next two days, I'll admire and fondle and marvel at the red Lee's Surrender, until I have it hemmed and wrapped up in its birthday finery for its recipient.