That's a phrase my Thursday night improv group has embraced. It usually involves kneeling before the person and basking like a flower in the sun. This is where my imperfection shows up well today. Therese gave me this lovely top out of the kindness of her heart: all I had to do was make it into a quilt. So I got to it. Then I looked at the job I did. (Insert appropriate expletive here.) Not only is the color of the thread just wrong, the quilting itself has all kinds of little jogs and blobs. The above is just one example of my wondrous capacity for imperfection. Basking yet?
So I have to frog. (Rip-it! Rip-it!)