It's been this kind of a week. As the last stitches of the Moon Cabin cloth were being worked, this happened. It was such a good needle, too. Hope I can figure out what kind it was and replace it.
Here's the spot where it broke, patching up the make-shift corners, where all my binding and mitering knowledge flew out of the window.
On Wednesday, Moon needed driven to the other end of the city for an appointment, about eight miles. It took an hour each way in the city's rush hour. We sat through one light six times.
Somewhere on the freeway a near-miss happened, and a word flew out of my mouth, "Sorry!" I said to Moon. He informed me that he hears much worse every day at school. "I know, but still..." (I don't swear around my kids, or other people's.)
There are 139 stars in this cloth, none of them are easy to see.
The drive was so stressful, we were half an hour late to the appointment, I was near tears, and muttering at motorists. Moon hurt himself somehow and said a word. "Don't sound like your mother."
"I said 'shoot'."
"But if I had said a swear word, is that all you would've said?"
"Today? Yes. It was your window of opportunity, but it's closed now."
There are nine moons on the front, and a few unplanned for ones on the back. I can make out four here, that makes thirteen total. That makes me happy.
After the appointment adventure we were supposed to head downtown to attend a performance. I informed K., who works downtown, that he would have to come get me, because there was no way on any planet, or underworld, that I would be driving one more minute.
The Moon Cabin cloth.