Just because she lives less than a mile from me or because I have issues about going to the post office at holiday time or because she has three of the most adorable and precocious little girls ever doesn't mean that I would do something like that. I used the random number generator and Alexis' number just came up. Promise.

Thank you to everyone who wrote about their favorite childhood books. I was reminded of times I hadn't thought of in decades and sweet memories of reading with my mother and I got some great ideas of books ...

Do you remember reading Black Beauty as a child? I do. I read it in a weekend and it was among the first times that I realized how transforming a good book could be (I recall having similar reactions to a biography of Amelia Earhart and Stuart Little). So when my dear friend Sharon told me that she had written a 'children's version' of Black Beauty I could only ask 'why?' (I tried to be polite about it.) Sharon explained graciously that the basis for the story (good vs. evil) was classic and that there was no version suitable ...

Can I make waffles and freeze them for 6am toasting?

What will entertain me when I have no more New York Times Monday crossword puzzles left to do on my iPhone App?

Should I get one more tattoo or would that make me too much like the Circus Lady?

Will I get my quilting mojo back or is it over for me?

Why is my hair still falling out a full year after I stopped nursing?

Speaking of nursing: is it weird that I still dream of nursing my toddler almost every night?

Should I save the multitude of clothing ...

Every Mother's Day there's some discussion of how Jake is going to be 'really good'. It goes something like: clean up after yourself; don't give your mother a hard time; do as your told; be sweet; etc. And every Mother's Day I wonder: why isn't every day Mother's Day? Shouldn't you do those things all the time?

On Thanksgiving every year I wonder something similar. Shouldn't we be thankful every day for the multitude of blessings in our lives? Why must it take a holiday to get us to stop and list ...

There's a conversation a parent has with an adolescent. I know because it was had with me and I've now had it with The Older Boy. In a moment of sheer (pre-)teenage angst one looks around and thinks he/she sees everyone else having an easier time. Remember? Everyone else seemed to have more friends? This conversation is the one about how you'll be lucky in life if you have two or three real friends—that anyone who appears to have more is just collecting acquaintances.

Recently while imparting this motherly wisdom it occurred to me ...

You know that I Love Lucy episode where Lucy and Ethel get jobs at the chocolate factory and the conveyer belt is moving faster than they can work? 

(The punch line is that the chocolates end up all over the place—under their hats, in their dresses, stuffed into their cheeks, etc.)

That's how my life feels right now. The projects are piling up.

Every year before the holidays it's as if someone yells "speed it up" into the control room.

Those of us who value handmade seem to put rather a lot of pressure on ourselves to ...

I've started a blog in conjunction with my blog-and web-design business. My plan is to share tips and techniques for enhancing your blog no matter what platform you're on. The first post is titled: Pimp my Blogger. Come on over and subscribe if your so inclined. I'd love to see you.

I'm interested, what would you like to see explained there?

No sooner had I finished writing my last post (you know-the one about how I was The Perfect Mother) then my kids proved me dead wrong.

Now, I know those times when everything is going according to plan are few and far between, but as my friend Jill said in the comments: sometimes I think I live for them.

Does living for my kids' perfect moments make me less than a perfect mother? Shouldn't I be able to take their moods and failures and melt-downs and heart-breaks in stride? Maybe use them as teaching moments and opportunities to model ...

Have you ever had a moment where everything was just exactly as it was supposed to be?

When it happens to me I try to remember what it feels like so that in the tougher times I have a feeling to focus on. Sometimes I even ask Niall to remind me of how It was when I feel like it's all falling apart.

This afternoon for just a few perfect minutes I had such a moment.

Jake came through the door at exactly thirteen minutes past three, like he does everyday. He was bouncing and smiling and holding Harry ...

11:47 am Thursday

11:52 am Thursday

7:12 pm Friday

Right now: time is moving too quickly and not quickly enough. I'm torn between the pressure of the early sunset (and my desire for winter to pass quickly) and my need to make time stand still (so that my kids stop growing so damn fast).

Right now: it's all about them, as one is sick and the other has hit a rough patch at school.

Right now: one good wind and the leaves are just about gone from the trees.

Right now: missing Vermont.

And you ...

What is it that's so pleasing about handing down a beloved article of clothing?

There's so much satisfaction about finding new life in something that otherwise might spend eternity pressed up against a moth-ball.

I spent years knitting sweater after sweater for Jake and I never expected, or even really hoped, to have another child of my own to hand them down to.

Still, most of them I kept.

Now that he's eleven, this Mama finds tremendous pleasure in seeing his old sweaters on his two year old brother.

I've said it here before but it ...

8:33 am Wednesday. Breakfast in bed.

3:12 pm Wednesday. After school antics.

10:40 am Friday. Finished project.

The pumpkin was a much better model than the toddler.

If your link isn't on the moments page and you want it to be, please send me an email at: acommonplacelife@gmail.com.

Here's hoping some of the moments in your day are lovely.

There were lots of you who liked the idea of participating in a blog-ring of sorts where we pledge to show more of our real-life on our blogs. So I give you: Moments. If you'd like to participate, here are the guidelines: try and be as authentic as you can. You don't have to post photos of your messy house or tell us your most embarrassing moment (unless you want to). I'm just asking that you keep reality in your mind when you post. That's it. Feel free to send me your link if you haven ...

I may have touched on a nerve with my last post.

It seems there are those among you who find yourselves dejected by the throngs of lovely blogs in your readers. Some commenters wrote of feeling inadequate when comparing their lives to the pretty pictures all around them and rather than becoming inspired (which I truly believe to be the intention of the vast majority of the authors of such blogs) they feel paralyzed. (Note: that particular word may be my own personal interpretation.)

A few commenters wrote in defense of Martha Stewart and the role she has played in ...

Now that we know each other a little better I feel like I can share a little more deeply with you. Let my freak flag fly as it were. But please be warned: I am about to reveal an ugly truth and you may wish to send your children out of the room or change the channel entirely.

I have a problem with Martha Stewart.

There. I said it. Turn against me if you must, or organize a boycott. Do what you have to do but I'm tired of feeling inadequate at the hands of Ms. Stewart. I'm ...

If you think it sounds lovely to take your two boys and one of their friends to the local orchard on a day off from school, you're right. It does sound lovely. When you arrive to find that every other person within forty miles of said orchard also thought the same thing you might start rethinking your decision. No problem. We're flexible. Let's grab our apples for the afternoon's pie-baking bonanza and scram. (For these boys the fun is in the kitchen anyway.) Car. Won't. Start. %&*@. Breathe. Still flexible.

How does one remain calm and ...

If you read any blogs written by someone who quilts, chances are you've come across the Blogger's Quilt Festival at Parkcitygirl.

The festival is the brainchild of Amy (whom I'm happy to call a friend) and was lots of fun last spring when she first held it. Amy asked me to design a logo and offered me a sponsor spot in return. Needing, as I do, a deadline to work off, I jumped at the chance to to the job and used her date as the 'launch day' for my new venture. All the sponsors are offering ...

It happens every year—the battening down of the emotional hatches that occurs when the days get shorter.

In October it's not unusual that by six-thirty everyone has been fed and I'm locking the front door and heading upstairs. In contrast, at six-thirty on a July evening it's likely that I haven't even started preparing dinner. As the darkness comes faster I feel a need to gather everyone inside and be finished. I'm not afraid of the dark. Actually it's often quite the contrary. There is a sure and certain magic in walking one ...

Hi.

Thanks for the great response to my announcement last week. I'm really excited to launch the website for PatchworkFolio next week (yikes - I'd better get that finished). For those of you who expressed an interest in having me design something for you or host your Wordpress site, feel free to contact me as soon as you're ready because I'm working, even if my website isn't.

Designing the site has kept me pretty busy and yesterday I got a full-day break. I took Denyse Schmidt's advanced improvisation class in her Bridgeport Studio. I signed ...

If you've ever read my sparse 'About' page you know that I worked as a designer for many years. When I started out I designed mostly printed materials and worked predominantly for non-profit organizations. I didn't set out specifically for that to happen—but one job led to another and who was I to complain. One of my clients was moving into the digital age right at the start of the web (now you know how old I am) and they paid me to figure out how to get a website up and running for them.

So I ...

Maybe I should post every time I need encouragement about finishing a project. (Help, I'm avoiding scrubbing the toilets. etc.)

All of your encouragement got me in gear and the momentum took hold. I finished the single missing block, sewed the rows, pieced the back and quilted the entire quilt.

I almost always use off-white thread to quilt but didn't think it would work here. The choices were clearly brown and gray. Since I thought the brown fabrics were a little more dramatic and stark than I had expected, I went with the gray in the hopes of ...

The pathetic part of this story isn't that I have nineteen out of twenty blocks finished or that I finished those nineteen blocks in three days but haven't been able to get the last one done in three weeks or that my brother's birthday is less than two weeks away—it's that I have three other projects in the exact same state of unfinished-ness in the basket under my desk.

Somebody kick me in the ass please.