All's Well That Ends

All of my sniveling to the contrary, I really do love deadlines.  The thing is, once a deadline arrives, you're done.  Either you have achieved the goal of getting so much work done in so much time, or you have not.  Either way, things are going to change.  Either you get your life back, or there's a new deadline (and perhaps some extra grief).  A deadline is a day you can look forward to with the certainty that come what may, the stress of having anticipated it will be over.

Today I finished the Project-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.  I put it in a box, and told the Smallies that although we will never see this sweater again, it will be returned to us, in the form of Back-To-School money.  Lindsay played along: "You mean the sweater will magically transform into three-ring binders and sparkly sneakers?"  "Yes,'" I told her. "Yes, it will."  It's the Magic of Knitting.

And then, on the advice of a dear one who has really done some heavy lifting in seeing me through this particular journey, I did something very Un-Knitting.  I taught one of my kids (I could only catch one, so far, but I have plans to expose the other one, as well) how to hand quilt.

A few weeks ago we cleaned out the linen closet, and Lindsay asked me why we never use this quilt.  "Because it's not finished.  It's actually not really a quilt at all, yet."  On closer examination, we determined that I had completed about half of the quilting before I wadded it into the linen closet (okay, it was more like three linen closets ago).  Lindsay takes its unfinished state as a personal challenge (don't know where she gets these notions).  Her goal is to help (force) me to finish it before the end of winter.  She feels it's wrong that we both need a quilt to snuggle under, and that we have one which isn't finished.  She also kinda digs that you have to sit under it to work on it - kid is a hard-core snuggler.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but did I just get another deadline?