Quilts, Guns, & Pizza

First off, here's the top of the quilt all pieced together. It looks bigger than it is. It's only 42.5 square inches. I changed the middle block from the previous picture. It was supposed to be green, but the baby's room will be blue and white, so I wanted the blue to be more prominent. I don't think I'll have time to work on it today, though because...

I'm having a sweet 16 tea for my niece, Summer. Our knitting group friends are coming over and we're going to have lunch and cake and stuff. It should be really nice.

I found out that the guy who was responsible for bringing eight police officers and their weapons to our street is going to be evicted. It turns out that he was arguing with his mother, who also happens to be his landlord, and he pulled a gun on her! The guy who lives directly across the street from us told me that he was minding his own business at home when there was a knock at his door and he opened it to find six police officers standing there with all six weapons pointing at him! He told them they had the wrong guy and then left town for a few days. He said it was really scary. Anyway, I'm relieved to know the crazy guy will be leaving because every time I look up that driveway I can't help but think about that gun.

And now the pizza story: Jerry is a really "selective" eater. There are about 11 foods that he will eat (not including m&ms, and ice cream) and he has eaten the same thing for lunch and dinner for the past four or five years. You may think I exaggerate but, if anything, I'm erring on the side of caution. So, the other night when he said, "I think I'd like to try pizza," at 9:45 pm, I rushed to the phone to order a pizza. Actually, first I said, "Now?" And he said, "Yeah." And I said, "Could you try it tomorrow?" And he said, "I probably won't be in the mood to try it tomorrow." And then I rushed to the phone.

Twenty minutes later the three of us were seated around the kitchen table. Warren and I were eating pizza. Jerry was eating crust (the only part of a pizza he's ever eaten) and kind of poking at the rest of the pizza on his plate with a disgusted look. He did not try the pizza. But, thanks to Ronnie and her talk on shame at the LIFE is Good conference, I did not say what I was thinking (which was "I rushed out to get you a pizza at 10 pm and now you won't even take a little bite!?"). I just said, "That's OK." And ate my pizza. And it was fine. Thanks Ronnie.