How did that happen? Why is it that time goes by so much faster the older you get?
In July I turned 40, had my 10 year wedding anniversary and celebrated my darling nephew's 2nd birthday.
I gardened and watered all of my plants a lot. Other than a few measly days in July, it was disgustingly hot. As I've mentioned, 82 to is my limit, and since 85 was considered 'cooling down' by the local weather guy, there was a lot of whining coming from me the entire month. Ok, it was more than whining, it was really bitching, to be honest. And as bad as we've had it in Chicagoland, I am thankful everyday that I don't live in Texas. One of my coworkers who is based down there said the other day it was 110. Yuck, with a ginormous capital Y! And the poor things have had over a month of that kind of weather.
At the beginning of July I started what I thought would be a quick quilt. I figured it would take a week at most. Riiiiiggghhhttt. I'm starting to think PittiPat is right. She always says that she thinks we all have delusions of grandeur because we bring 10 projects to work on to our weekend quilting retreats. I tell her it's really because we are optimistic, glass half full kind of girls.