We’re taking care of our neighbor’s baby chickens over Memorial Day weekend. They’re just a few weeks old, still tiny. Charlie crouches down and watches the chicks peck around in their crate.
Charlie: “They are delightful!”
Me: “They are, aren’t they?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe later we can take them out and play with them for a little bit.”
“Can we juggle them?”
“Probably not.”
Many of you probably know that Quilt Market--the place where sellers and buyers of all things quilt converge--was in Salt Lake City this past weekend. For me, it was just up the street. I was very lucky to attend courtesy of Martingale & Company, my supernaturally-awesome publisher. (And my soon-to-be full-time employer. Again. Long story. Those guys just can't get rid of me.)
Perhaps it was the people I met--both beloved old friends and new quilting buddies. Perhaps it was the unexpected opportunities that fell into my lap. Perhaps it was the sheer excitement that comes with walking a new Market floor. Perhaps it was dancing with abandon at Market parties not one, but two nights in a row. Whatever the reason, my camera stayed in my purse, fully charged, for the entire four days I was at Market. Except for one photo:
A tile wall at the Blue Lemon, downtown SLC. Taken during
the packed-to-the-hilt Blogger's Quilt Market Meetup. Congratulations to
this talented young woman for putting on an incredible, standing-room-only party.
Seriously, of all things, Jenny ... the one photo you take at Quilt Market is of a tile wall!?! Yep. Sadly, with all the flurry of seeing and doing and meeting and laughing and twisting my right foot into my boot a teeny-tiny bit differently so it didn't hurt THAT bad and I could keep on walking, I neglected the wonders my camera could have captured. And there certainly were wonders to be captured each day.
Day One: I was introduced to some coworkers of mine who I'd never met in person before. They were warm, funny, interesting, and easy to talk to. Plus, I got to spend time with a woman who I have known, loved, and admired for well over a decade, and hadn't seen in a very long time. (Yes, YOU, Chris Wright from M&C.) I was too busy being in the moment. No photos. Crap!
Day Two: By a stroke of chance, I saw a friend I hadn't seen since Charlie was a baby--Annie Smith of Quilter's Stash. She invited me to talk about ReSew for her round of Quilt Market podcasts. What a treat! Annie is such a natural conversationalist; she makes it easy to forget you are being recorded, and that her many fans will be listening in on your casual chat. And sure enough, I forgot. Just like the camera. Why didn't I take our picture together, Annie? WHY? (You can listen to Annie's podcast with me here.)
Day Three: I was in the M&C booth waiting for an appointment when who should walk by but Carma Wadley, reporter for the Deseret News. She let me know that the article she'd written about ReSew was going to be published on the front page of the "Family" section of the newspaper on Monday. And sure enough, it was! (Here's the online version.) I spent the afternoon thinking about how proud my dad was going to be when he saw it. The article begins, "Thrifty is nifty — especially the way Jenny Wilding Cardon does it." Hee-hee! Thank you, Carma. I think you're nifty, too. Even nifty enough for a photo. But alas, I forgot again. Dang it!
Day Four: I briefly met with Ellen March, Editor-in-Chief of Sew News and host of the PBS series Sew It All. Ellen invited me to be a guest on her show--we're taping this fall in Golden, Colorado! Why no photo? Well, that's simple--too nervous. Then, that night, I was invited to hit the town with THE. COOLEST. BLOGGERS. AROUND. We ate and laughed and talked and danced to '80s music. No time for photos. Too busy having a great time. But now, I would very much like to kick myself.
I've been to Market many times over the years, but never have I had so much fun. And as I think about it, I understand why I had such a wonderful experience. People--talented, kind, energetic, generous people--reached out to me. And I was surprised. Surprised enough to forget a photo opportunity or two. Or twenty.
Too in the moment. Too chatty. Too excited. Too nervous. Too surprised. Too busy with the fun of it all. And now that it's all said, done, packed up, and back home, I've come to a realization.
Yeah, sure, I'm kicking myself, But really, I wouldn't have wanted it to happen any other way.
Most people who see me day to day know something's up--I've been wearing a very noticeable black brace for four months now. It's my wrist. My right wrist. Can't open jars of peanut butter. Can't turn on bath water. Can't zip up three-year-old's pants. Can't grate cheese. Can't get any outfit to look good with that black brace. (Not even a black outfit.) What's a mama to do?
Just do what the doctor says, I guess. Surgery is in my near future.
I recently expained the impending procedure to Jack. Incisions, needles, bone scraping, fragment packing, stitches. Sounds a bit horrifying.
Jack: "So, what do our bodies look like on the inside, anyway?"
Me: "Well, there's blood, and veins, and organs, and bones... I guess it's kinda scary in there."
"It's like, we're so pretty on the outside and then we're so yucky on the inside."
"Yeah. Pretty much."
"I'm so happy we're not yucky on the outside too."
"Indeed, bean."
