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Back in October (maybe, MAYBE, the first day of November?) I ordered Lizzy House’s 50 fat eighth bundle from her holiday shop. It was a bit of an impulse buy; I have PLENTY of new fabric to cut up, and I had already indulged in a brown Liberty Lifestyle bundle “for my birthday.”

I knew I shouldn’t have done it.

But today, this came in the mail.

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And? I cried. On my unmade bed, in front of my piles and piles of dirty laundry, which are functioning as quite effective metaphors for my life right now.

While Lucy, Nate, and I are fine, there’s some serious baloney going on in my background right now. To beat it all, it’s 12/12/12, and my 29th birthday. I’d always said I wanted to have a huge party on 12/12/12, a celebration of the best time of my life. The cards just haven’t fallen that way. I’d be happy if I could sit quietly on my sofa tonight knitting, instead of trying desperately to control a situation I’m 800 miles away from, and unable to help, much less control.

I had already decided these would make a good toddler big-girl bed quilt, and am even more sure that’s where they’re headed. The way I cried over these? They’ve got to become something great.

Today, I’m grateful for a pop of beauty, for a rainbow of good design, and for the possibilities of the future. And for 29 years on 12/12/12.

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