I was emailing back and forth with a friend this week and he told me that when I talk about basting a quilt it always makes him think of basting a turkey. I totally understand. And one night this week, with a bit of sangria, I got this quilt basted.
I have actually been working on it today and I tumbled off my sewing stool as I tried to sit down on it. I felt like such a klutz. Now, a couple hours later, I am feeling all the twinges, bruises, and shocks. I twisted so I would not hit my head or back. Too many years of figure skating. I feel like I should be scraped but I found none. I do know that Monday is going to be interesting moving. Tomorrow should be okay because it is the forty eight hours out any more that hurts the worse.
But that is me being a klutz. That is life.