Like Mother, Like Daughter

Somewhere, there is a picture of me sitting at my mom's quilting frame, trying very hard to make perfect little stitches. Since I was about two, those perfect little stitches turned out to be about two inches long and in a very, uhm, "unconventional" pattern. Mom had left me unattended for a second and I had seized the opportunity to "help" her with her quilt. Apparently, that helpful spirit gets passed down through the genes, and Bella has also inherited this gene. I, like my mother, turned my back for a minute, and returned to find that my sweet little girl had climbed up to the table and was helping me with my latest landscape design. Note the scribbling on the bottom left corner of the plan. Fortunately, it was only pencil on mylar, so the problem was easily remedied.