Not exactly how I planned to spend my summer...

Father's Day weekend, my 93-year old mother tripped, fell, and broke two bones in her neck. She's doing well (remarkably, no pain, and she's up and walking and in physical and occupational therapy twice a day at the rehab center), but my father, absolutely lost without his wife of 68 years, turned out to be the one who needed the most tending.

So home I went to cook, clean, do laundry, garden, grocery shop and make daily visits to Mom (which, after a couple days, tended to coincide with the afternoon ice cream social). I pined for my sewing machine, wishing I'd brought it with me but acknowledging that there wouldn't be much sewing going on, anyway. I was trying to do actual work after he went to bed every night, but a project needed special attention, so I returned to Chicago for four days, leaving Dad with plenty of hot dogs (the only thing he can cook in the microwave), yogurt and my sister's gift certificate to the local diner.

The first thing I did when I got home was sit down and start quilting.

Excuse the horrendous amount of lint! That Kona Nightfall shows everything!

I could feel the tension leave my body as that walking foot chugged along. I believe I also kissed the machine once or twice. And look how well I lined up the backing!  There's a first time for everything.

I didn't finish it, but made enough progress that I'm not going to be antsy when I return to my parents' today. Mom's coming home tomorrow, so it's back to caretaking.

I'm going to miss that ice cream.