All day long, when I show up for meals, or to change the laundry, my husband would ask what I was doing.
“Making crop circles,” I would say.
Crop circles–you know, when the-aliens-have-landed-and-want-to-eat-your-brain kind of crop circles.
I’m going downstairs to make dinner, and change the laundry and try to escape the aliens that are eating my brain.
Now having finished the billions of pieces in the center circles, I’m adding the outer edges. And thinking that in spite of yards and yards and yards of fabric in my house, I still don’t have the exact right piece. But I think it’s coming along. I’m hoping to finish this inner section before school starts on Tuesday. Think I’ll make it?
And maybe it should be considered that that my brain was pretty far gone before the aliens landed with their crop circles, because there are only NINE circles I had to make. In spite of what I’ve written earlier. Off to the laundry.