The granny square count now stands at thirty-six. If this were going to be a baby afghan, I could stop right now and start putting them together, but it's not for a baby; it's for me, so onward.
I must finish it it. The importance of finishing what I begin became very clear to me a few weeks ago. It occurred to me that if I don't finish a project, it's totally disrespectful to the money I spent on the materials, the hours invested up to the stopping point ( time I could have spent doing something for somebody else) and the materials themselves. A big pile of unfinished work seems very selfish to me.
Tomorrow, we move Whitley to school. I feel fine about it. Really. I'm not worried or freaking out at all. People keep asking me if I'm okay. And I say yes. Because I keep thinking of all the parents who have lost kids from illness or accident or Some Other Bad Thing and think those moms would give anything under the sun to be taking their kids to college, but they were robbed. It would be totally selfish of me to not embrace this experience. Whit is smart and talented and college is where she belongs. I'm not going to wreck it for her by being upset.