I have created a monster. A short, cute monster with a high-pitched roar.

I dragged my 5-year-old daughter out with me on Saturday morning to investigate a quilt shop that I discovered online in a town about a half hour from our house. She was bored out of her mind on the ride over, but once we got there, you would have thought we had just landed at the world's biggest Toys R Us. The store was about twice as big as the evil place I had been to last week, with two long rooms just loaded with - or so they claim - thousands of bolts of fabric. Off of one of those rooms, a small closet had been outfitted as another fabric room, and when Harper discovered it her tiny little voice rang out through the store, "MOMMMY! THERE'S A LITTLE FABRIC ROOM OVER HERE. YOU GOTTA COME SEE!"

The whole time we were there, she was just giddy, and kept trying to negotiate with me about how much fabric we were going to buy for her next quilt. I tried to explain to her that we were there to look for fabric for Daddy's quilt, but she wasn't havin' none of it. I managed to simplify things by allowing her to pick out two fat quarter bundles, which we will combine with some jelly roll strips I bought a while back to make a Happy Squares quilt. Who am I to stifle her need for me to make her stuff while she watches?

And I'm very happy to say that everyone there was lovely and helpful, and very, very kind to my daughter. No one offered us a cookie or shouted to Helen to come over here and take a look at this, but that's perfectly okay. It was a wonderful place and I can't wait to go back and the other place can suck it.

Also, I did find fabric for her daddy's quilt and I finally finished the top last night:



It measures 76.5" x 68" - the biggest quilt I've made so far, I think. Husband loves it and seems very touched that I've made this for him, but he could just be looking to get laid.

In other news, the new job is going well, but it is the reason I can't post as often as I'd like. I'm editing 13-17 articles each month, as opposed to 6-7 every other month, plus I have two articles of my own to write. One of them is about a local Irish pub and their "perfect pint" of Guinness, and I got to interview the manager last week. He is, as they say, the "genuine article"— a transplanted Irishman who came from Dublin to open this pub here. I am a sucker for a good brogue, be it Irish or Scot, so I had a major crush going by the time we were done with the interview. My boss loved the resulting article, but I didn't tell her it was fueled by unrequited lust. Wouldn't want to give away all my secrets!

AND - remember how I started this whole blog thing with the notion that it would be a chronicle of both my sewing and my feeble attempts at weight loss? The weight loss part kinda went out the window, because it's not really that fun to dwell on, much less read about. But I just realized this morning that I've lost 12 pounds. I made it over the 10-pound mark without even knowing it. Sweet.

That calls for a donut.