I started working on it on a trip I had last year to San Antonio, Galveston and a few other towns in Texas in mid-May. A friend's baby was due July 3rd, and I thought I could finish it before the baby arrived. I had it all planned out. If I did two squares a day, it would take me roughly 2 weeks to finish, giving me plenty of time to do any finishing work and send it off to the mama- and daddy-to-be before the little one arrived. Done and done!
Except that it didn't really work out that way.
I got to this square by the end of my 5 day trip to Texas (I should have been done with 10 squares if I kept to my schedule):
Yes. That's "B"
When I got home, we closed on our house. Then we spent 4 days painting and cleaning said house (which was in a state of dreadful neglect when we bought it) before we headed off to my sister's wedding in North Carolina. Rebecca's wedding was on May 30th, meaning I should have been completely finished according to my (as it turns out, completely unreasonable) schedule. I was on this letter:
So now it is June. We have until July 1st to be out of our old house. Which means we have until July 1st to complete any of the major upgrades we wanted to get done on the house before we moved in. We spent the entire month of June finishing our basement, cleaning up the yard, re-doing the front walk, painting and generally making the house pleasant and liveable. Which means that by the time litte KG made her North Carolina debut three weeks early, I was only on:
After we were mostly settled in, I started working again. Slowly. I was getting pretty pregnant myself by this point. I was tired. I had a house I was trying to settle into, a nursery to decorate, diapers to make, and - oh yeah! Work. So I took my time, now that I had missed the big event. I got hung up for days on a space holder square:
SOOOOOOOO CLOSE. Yet so very very far.
I frayed the edges of the blanket. I ironed out the marks left by the embroidery ring (you can tell which ones I spent the most time on by how deeply entrenched the creases around the letter are).
So that's the story of the baby afghan. Now I am faced with the conundrum - do I keep it, hang it in Lucy's room and pretend it was never meant for anyone else? Or do I box it up with a copy of this post and send it on to our dear friend's and their now 13-month-old daughter?