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Archive for July, 2011

Things happen for a reason

If I hadn’t ask Eric on Tuesday for feedback on Monday’s speech

I wouldn’t have decided to do the speech again on Tuesday night


If I hadn’t gone to SPEAKOUT on Tuesday night

I wouldn’t have volunteered to get my portable office projector for Paul’s speech


If I hadn’t told Gregg about borrowing the projector on our way to coffee Wednesday morning

He wouldn’t have mentioned that our projector had been loaned out before I arrived to a panicked

Kim needed for her meeting across town (hers malfunctioned)


If I hadn’t known that I couldn’t just pick up the projector on my way out of the building

          I wouldn’t have had time to find another


If the IT department would have responded to my plea for last minute help

I would not have had to use my ‘friendship network’ to procure a projector

 (called my quilting friend Jane in another department)


If she would not have had an available projector

I wouldn’t have gone to see her and I would have missed out

on seeing the most amazing quilted preservation of memories


On Friday she might have given the quilt to June, who lost her son 2 years ago due to a senseless act of violence.  It was her only precious son who loved life and his job at Taco Time.

 The quilt is a masterpiece of hand-selected childhood pictures, printed on quality fabric, woven with squares of Brandon’s favorite sweatshirts and denim jeans lovingly cut out by his mother as a step in her healing.

 Oh it was a challenge; sweatshirt material does not want to submit to a long-arm quilting machine.  Long agonizing nights were spent arranging and rearranging quilt blocks with tears flowing.  It had to be just right – for June and for Brandon.

 Those who got a sneak peek, because I was there to pick up the  projector (she just had to show me her creation), felt honored to have had that peek.  Goose bumps and tears all around.  Shhh, June hasn’t seen the finished quilt yet.  You can bet there will be more tears.

 This finished joint project will be turned over to June in a private setting so she can celebrate and cry.  No doubt it will have an honored place in her home.

 Seeing that very personal tribute to a son that died too young makes me feel proud to be among those who could craft such a lasting legacy.

Can you hear me now?

Greg’s wife Kellie and I are conducting an experiment to see where is the best place to lose a cell phone call, mid-sentence.  So far we have it narrowed down to:

  • Tiger Mountain summit (on her way home from the school where she teaches)
  • The northeast corner of the garage
  • The refridgerator

No doubt we will find more locations and a public service, I will post them.

Morning Chuckle

Monday morning and I have not allowed any extra time to get dressed.  I dig thru my laundry basket for the underwear I neglected to put in their proper place.  I find a pair.  I put them on.  They feel funny and I feel and hear crackling.  That’s a strange noise for underwear!  I have to decide whether to carry on and worry about this when I get to work or stop and check it out.  I reach in the back and feel paper.  I pull it out.  It is a $5 bill.  I laugh out loud because it so ridiculous.  My guess is that the laundry load also contained jeans with $$$ in the pocket.  As only a devious washer/dryer combo would do, it decided it would be funny to attach the $5 bill to the crotch of some unsuspecting underwear.  I finished dressing and left the $5 bill in ‘timeout’ status because on some level it knew better. 


I told this story to the massage therapist last night (funny the things you share when your face is buried in a face-cradle).  She laughed and said the only thing that kept this from being ever-so-gross is that all three characters in this bizarre early morning play had all been recently laundered.

And here we go, so much to say

It is raining outside, NASCAR on the big screen upstairs and a full Sunday ahead.  My hopes: Denny Hamlin wins the race, the weather clears up and all Sunday tasks get completed.  One more trip to the grocery store, plants to plant from trip to Home Depot.  Apparently the new sprinklers can wait for another day.

Campers will come over later to exchange trucks.  The quest for better weather over the mountains was only mildly successful.  Alas summer will come and then we will have 85 degree weather to complain about.