Sometimes I don't have words and that is okay.

A blanket

A whole year ago I set out to make Bea a blanket with this vintage flannel floral and that cream colored soft stuff. Sarah, thank you for the gifts of cloth. I am so happy I finally got around to making this thing real for Bea, just in time for a few weeks after her birthday. I ran down to Bolt one day and was ready to grab any ol' batting for the middle but, stop right there, they sell 100% beautiful, lofty, warm, water repellent wool. It's even double layered for extra winter coziness for our winter born. That's what her birthday banner says, by the way. I love that picture Kenny took. 

Wait, okay, one of my favorite things about this blanket was that I learned something new while doing it. Just a few days prior to construction, a customer at the yarn shop came in looking for yarn to tie their quilt together with. "Melissa, what does that mean?" I asked. You see, after you piece your quilt together or sew your front and back pieces together, you have to somehow stop the batting from moving around. You sew yarn or embroidery thread through all three layers. It might be visible in one of the photos above. Instead of researching it online, I turned to my trusty old friend:

There you have it. Thanks for reading, ya'll.   

Camellia

Happy birthday beautiful girl.

I am loving this, this getting to know you. I love this, this watching you do everything for the first time, over and over again. I love sitting back, behind the scenes, still near you almost every day as you remember how to put the cap on the bottle perfectly and recognize that hardy rosemary and freak out by yelping because you can tell we're almost at the park where you swing and slide and bounce on the plastic bunny and scream at the dogs, I mean scream.

Today, on our way to the park, we saw a most beautiful camellia.

In honor of you, they are now my favorite anticipated blossom.

Your daddy named you. Did you know that?

I love you, sweet Bea.