Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Work in progress Wednesday

Mermaid tails galore! Here is my progress over the past few nights.
From this.... this...
In my school officially called Fiberworks Studio...we will be continuing our work on our rag rug. Unfortunately, we only get to meet once a month so it is slow going. But we are getting there slowly but surely.  During our quest, I realized the most time-consuming part of it is cutting the strips from the t-shirts. 
That being said I have an idea to shorten the process. If you are interested in making a rag rug, talk to me first. I have a top secret proposal for you.
Here is what we have so far.

I would love to hear about and see YOUR WIPS. :)

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

To-do List Tuesday

I am becoming a crocheting machine.  I love it!  Those mermaid tails are a big hit.  I have 5 adult mermaid tails to complete, all with their own unique look, color combination, and vibe.  The more tails I crochet, the more I enjoy putting a new spin on each one.  No two tails alike!

I also have a memory quilt in the works, like these I have made before.

I sponsor a club at my school that, until recently, has been called the "craft club."  But I teach high school and craft club sounds a bit elementary to me.  This is my first year doing this club but I am loving coming up with new projects to add to the list.  Our current project is a "rag rug."  It is much more time-consuming than I had anticipated.  Following the rag-rug project, I plan on moving into either sewing, crocheting, or cross-stitching depending on the interest level of the students.  I have been brainstorming new names for the club. Craft Club is now officially Fiberworks Studio! Sounds much more sophisticated if I do say so myself.
Our finished rag rug will be sold to help pay for a field trip next semester as well as materials for our next project. 
Unfortunately, I do not have a picture to post, but I will take one ASAP.

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

What I'm Listening to...Wednesday

Sometimes when I can't hear God speaking, I hear him sing over me.  Sometimes I have a hard time putting into words what my heart is saying.  So I sing to him words others have sang to him before.  Sometimes I hurt for the world and become numb to the stories on the news.  And it takes somber songs to help me feel again. 

Just to give you a peek into my day at is what it looks like.  Our school has 5 classes a day.  When I don't have paperwork stacked up to my neck...which is the case most is what my schedule is supposed to look like:
1st Block-I go into an English 10 or English 11 classroom, and provide a helping hand to students who need a little extra time.
2nd Block-Sometimes English 11 and sometimes working on paperwork in my classroom.  This is a classroom that is shared with another teacher.  She teaches 10 students an online math course.  So this paperwork I have to complete must be completed with 10 restless chatty teenagers in my room. 
3rd Block-I teach a reading and writing intervention class.  However, oftentimes this becomes a homework help session.  Frequently, my lessons are replaced with another teacher's lesson.  But hey, they have to pass their other classes too.
4th Block-This is my "planning" block.  Most days, other teachers send their students my way during this time to read their tests to them.  This is part of my job, so no complaints here.  Somewhere during this block I also have to find time to eat.  Most of the time this is bites between test questions. 
5th Block-English 10...helping out the teachers and kiddos.

Second block on paperwork days is my time to drown out the noise (and the students' not so quiet voices of not so pleasant conversations).  So I flip on my Jesus station on Pandora and let it pick what song I want to hear.  But today I had a feeling it was God picking my songs, not some random computer program.

The first song that caught my attention was "This, Too Shall Be Made Right" by Derek Webb
I recently wrote another blog post about this song, but up it popped again.  If you would like to read that post, click here.

"People love you the most for the things you hate
And hate you for loving the things you can't keep straight
People judge you on a curve
And tell you you're getting what you deserve
And this too shall be made right

Children cannot learn when children cannot eat
Stack them like lumber when children cannot sleep
Children dream of wishing wells
Who's waters quench all the fires of hell
And this too shall be made right

The earth and the sky and the sea are all holding their breath
Wars and abuses have nature growing with death
You say we're just trying to stay alive
It looks so much more like a way to die

And this too shall be made right

Yes, there's a time for peace, there is a time for war
There's a time to forgive and a time to settle the score
A time for babies to lose their lives
A time for hunger and genocide
And this too shall be made right

Oh, I don't know the sufferings of people outside my front door
And I join the oppressors of those I choose to ignore
I'm trading comfort for human life
And that's not just murder, it's suicide
And this too shall be made right"

This hit way too close to home.  It seems that this world of darkness and hate and pain are closing in.  They are getting way too close to home.  I try not to watch the news.  I know, as a teacher, I should stay up to date on current events.  I could really care less.  I would rather tuck my head in my turtle shell and stay in my happy bubble with my amazing husband who I adore and adores me,
and our entertaining "why"-asking two-year-old,
 and our newly-giggling three-month-old.

 But despite the fact that I rarely turn on the evening news, I know...
-Twenty men were arrested in Chattanooga for involvement in child sex trafficking.
-Gang violence in downtown Chattanooga has increased to the point that the Chattanooga Times Free Press has created a database of individuals murdered there since 2011.  And all that people seem to be focusing on is the fact that Mohammed Abdulazeez found his way on to that list.  He is on a list of "justified murders."  I am pretty sure murder isn't the right word for that situation, but people seem to be missing the point.  That list is HUGE...currently at 113, with 22 of the murders happening just in the last 10 months!  That's the point.  The point is that we should shed tears over the massive number of lives lost, most at the hands of gang violence.
-An unidentified body was found in my town.
-There was a shooter at the little league park in my hometown where my little brother used to play baseball.
-School shootings are STILL happening.
-College sports recruiters are paying for strippers and sex for recruits to help draw potential athletes to their program.
-Smoking, that had recently become less widespread, has become more popular and excepted among a whole new generation of teenagers.
-Drugs are rampant.

Then came the song "Wedding Dress," also by Derek Webb.  This song was written to his maker.
If you could love me as a wife
And for my wedding gift your life
           God gave his life as our wedding gift.  It doesn't get much better than that.
Should that be all Ill ever need
Or is there more I'm looking for
And should I read between the lines
And look for blessings in disguise
To make me handsome, rich and wise
Is that really what you want
'Cause I am a whore, I do confess
I put you on just like a wedding dress
And I run down the aisle
I run down the aisle
Or Im a prodigal with no way home
I put you on just like a ring of gold
And I run down the aisle
I run down the aisle to you
          That's what we do, I guess I can only speak for myself. That's what I do.  I am so excited be his bride. I can't wait to get down the aisle and jump into his arms.  I am excited to be his.  Then I turn to other lovers.  My eyes stray and my feet wander.  I lose my way.  Then I throw on my white dress (it's white because he washed it) and run to him again.
So could you love this bastard child
          And each time I run to him, I run to him slower.  I go to him ashamed.  I am weighted down by my sin and think, "how could he still love me?"  But he does.  And he marries me all over again.  We were never divorced.  But in my heart I feel that way.  So we renew our vows.  He makes the same unbroken promises all over again.  And I make promises we both know I will break. 
Though I dont trust you to provide
          He always provides.  But I still get scared.
 With one hand in a pot of gold
And with the other in your side
'Cause I am so easily satisfied
By the call of lovers so less wild
          I get content with the beautiful earthly things he has given me and forget the masterpiece I can find in him.
But money cannot buy
A husbands jealous eye
          "He is jealous for me.  His love's like a hurricane.  I am a tree bending beneath the weight of his love and mercy."  I want to run down the aisle and not let go of his hand.  It's not quite as easy as it sounds.

Both these songs were heavy.  Bittersweet.  Honest.  Raw.

And God knew what I needed when the next two songs came on..."My Beloved," by Kari Jobe.
You're my beloved, you're my bride
To sing over you is my delight
Come away with me my love
Under my mercy come and wait
Till we are standing face to face
I see no stain on you my child
          He thinks I'm perfect just the way I am.
You're beautiful to me
So beautiful to me
I sing over you my song of peace
          First he played me songs that left me with pain and bitterness and shame and fear and sadness.  Then he SANG OVER me his song of PEACE.  He played in like a lion and serenaded out like a lamb.
Cast all your care down at my feet
Come and find your rest in me
I'll breathe my life inside of you
I'll bear you up on eagle's wings
And hide you in the shadow of my strength
I'll take you to my quiet waters
 I'll restore your soul
Come rest in me and be made whole
You're my beloved, you're my bride
To sing over you is my delight
Come away with me my love
First he sang to me truth, then he revealed to me my sin, then he sang over me peace and forgiveness and love, then he danced with me...the dance in the kitchen in your socks kind of dance.
At the end of the block my students got to see me with headphones stuck in my ears rocking out to this Jesus song...this time I was smiling.  "Lay Em Down," by Needtobreathe
Come down to the river
Come and let yourself in
Make good on a promise
To never hurt again
If you're lost and lonely
You're broken down
Bring all of your troubles
Come lay 'em down
All you sinners
And the weak at heart
All you helpless
On the boulevard
Wherever you are now
Whatever evil you've found
Bring all of your troubles
come lay 'em down
We're all tied to the same old failings
Finding shelter in things we know
We're all dirty like corrupted small towns
Bring our troubles
Bring our troubles
And Lay 'em down
All you rich men
And the high above
All those with and without love
All you burdened, broken down
Bring all of your troubles
Come lay 'em down
Thank Jesus for speaking to me through my headphones this morning.

I'm laying em down.

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Translation Tuesday-The Raven Translated (Edgar Allen Poe)

This week, I had the pleasure of teaching my students the poem The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe.  I LOVE this poem.  Gothic poetry isn't really my thing, but the poetic devices Poe uses in this poem are fantastic- internal rhyme scheme, alliteration, repetition, symbolism, metaphors, theme, and mood.  I can't help but swoon over his words of doom and gloom.  This isn't quite the typical inspirational picker-upper of a post that tends to find it's way to my blog.  Nevertheless, it is my life in the classroom at the moment and I thought I would share.  Maybe it will help a student out there, or a class out there, or a teacher out there.  This poem is not an easy one to teach.  But here is my best stab at it. 
Below is the original poem in basic font, and underneath his lines in bold I have translated each line into more modern simplified language.  I tried my best to preserve the original structure and rhyme scheme because Poe composed it so beautifully.
The Raven

By  Edgar Allan Poe  

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

                Once upon a dark, cold night, while I thought sadly about my life

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

                Of many little and depressing things that have happened here before

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

                While I thought and drifted off, suddenly I heard a knock

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

                Someone softly, gently rapping, rapping at my door

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

                “It’s just a visitor,” I told myself, “tapping at my door—

 Only this and nothing more.”

                Only this and nothing more.”


Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

                Ah, I definitely remember, it happened in the dark December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

                And as the fire was going out it left scary shadows on the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

                Eagerly I wished it was tomorrow;--in vain I had hoped I could borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

                From my books, an escape from sorrow—sorrow for my lost Lenore--

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

                For the unique and beautiful woman who the angels name Lenore--

Nameless here for evermore.

                No longer here anymore


 And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

                Then came the silky, droopy, mysterious rustling of the purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

                It thrilled me and filled me with fears I never had before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

                So that now, to calm my racing heart, I stood repeating


 “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

                There must be someone at the entrance of my door--

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

                Some late night visitor at my chamber door--

 This it is and nothing more.”

                It’s just a visitor and nothing more.”



Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

                It was then my bravery grew stronger, I didn’t fear any longer,

“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

                “Mr,” I said, “Or Mrs., please forgive me," I ask through the door;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

                "I had just started napping and that’s when you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

                And so faintly I heard you tapping, tapping at my door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—

                I was sure I heard you"—so I opened wide the door;--

Darkness there and nothing more.

                Darkness there and nothing more.


Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

                Deep into the darkness I looked, long I stood there thinking, fearing

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

                Doubting, thinking things no human ever thought before

 But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

                But the silence stayed unbroken, and the stillness did no hinting

 And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”

                And the only word that was fitting was the whispered word, “Lenore?”

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—

                This I whispered, and an echo mumbled back the word, “Lenore!”

 Merely this and nothing more.

                Only this and nothing more


 Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

                Back into my room I’m turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

                Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before

 “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;

                “Sure,” I said, “surely that is something at my window sill

 Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

                Let me see what this thing is and the mystery explore--

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

                Let me calm down a moment and this mystery explore--

 ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

                I’m sure it’s the wind and nothing more!”


 Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

                I flung open the shutter, then with lots of flap and flutter,

In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;

                In stepped a grand Raven of the good days of before;

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

                He did not get close to me; he didn’t come in for me to see

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—

                But perched with a look of a gentlemen or lady above my door--

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—

                Perched on a statue of Pallas just above my door--

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

                Perched, and sat, and nothing more.


Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

                This black bird fascinated me and got me smiling

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

                With the strict and serious look it wore

“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,

                “Even though your feathers are trimmed and shaven,” I said, “I’m sure no cowardly

Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

                Scary ugly old Raven flying around the darkened shore--

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”

                Tell me what your name is on the darkened shore!

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

                The Raven replied, “Nevermore.”


Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

                I was amazed by this clumsy bird to hear him talk so plainly

Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

                Though its answer meant so little—could almost be ignored    

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

                For we can all agree that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—

                Was ever blessed with seeing a bird above his bedroom door

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

                Bird or beast upon the sculpture above his bedroom door

With such name as “Nevermore.”

                With a name like “Nevermore.”


But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

                But the Raven, sitting lonely on the statue, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

                That one word, as if the word came from his soul’s core.

Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—

                Nothing more did he say—not a feather then he fluttered--

Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—

                Until I hardly more than muttered “Other friends have flown before--

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”

                Tomorrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have left before.”

Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

                Then the bird said, “Nevermore,”


  Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

                Startled by the quiet broken by a reply so rightly spoken,

“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store

                I said, “I bet that what it is said is the only word it can store

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

                Learned from some unhappy master met with a cruel disaster

Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—

                Followed fast and followed faster until this song sang from his core

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

                Until the songs of his Hope that depressed load he bore

Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

                Of “Never—Nevermore.”



But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

                But the Raven still held my attention and had me smiling

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;

                I pulled up a comfy chair in front of the bird, and statue and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

                Then upon the cushion sinking, I found myself binding

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—

                My ideas to his, thinking what is this gloomy bird of before

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

                What this ugly, clumsy, scary, boney, and gloomy bird of before

Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

                Meant by saying, “Nevermore.”


 This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

                I sat there busy guessing, but no words was I expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;

                To the bird whose fiery eyes now burned into my soul’s core;

 This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

                This and more I thought with my head rested reclining

 On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,

                On the cushion’s velvet cover that the lamp-light shone over

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,

                But the cover with the lamp-light glowing over

 She shall press, ah, nevermore!

                She shall press, ah, nevermore!


 Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

                Then, I thought, the air grew thicker, perfumed from an unseen incense

Swung by Seraphim whose tinkled on the tufted floor.

                Swung by Angels whose steps sounded on the carpeted floor

“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

                “Poor thing,” I cried, “your God has sent you—by these angels he has sent thee

 Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;

                Wait—wait and lend me potion to forget my memories of Lenore;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”

                Drink, oh drink this potion and forget this lost Lenore!”

 Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

                Said the Raven, “Nevermore.”


“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—

                “Psychic!” I said, “thing of evil—psychic be still, if you’re a bird or devil!--

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

                Whether the devil sent you, or the storm threw you here on the shore,

 Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

                Abandoned but unafraid, on this desert land hypnotized--

On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

                In this home haunted by Horror—tell me honestly, I beg of you

Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”

                Is there—is there relief in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I beg of you!”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

                Said the Raven, “Nevermore.”


“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!

                “Psychic!” I said, “thing of evil!—psychic be still, if you are bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

                By Heaven that is above us—by that God we both adore--

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant garden of Eden

                Tell my soul filled with sorrow if, within the far off

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

                It should hold a maiden saint who the angels name Lenore--

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

                Grab a rare and beautiful woman who the angels name Lenore.”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”                   

               Said the Raven, “Nevermore.”      



“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—

                Make that word a sign of your leaving, bird or friend!” I shrieked, starting--

“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

                Go back into the storm and the Nighttime shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

                Don’t leave black smoke as proof of the lie you have spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!

                Leave me with my lonliness!—leave the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”

                Take your beak out of my heart, and get away from my door!

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

                Said the Raven, “Nevermore.”


And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

                And the Raven was never leaving, still he’s sitting, still he’s sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

                On the statue of Pallas just above my door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

                And his eyes seem like eyes of a demon that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

                And the lamp light over him beaming makes his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

                And my soul came from the shadow that lies there on the floor

 Shall be lifted—nevermore!     

                Shall leave—Nevermore!
And if all else fails, check out the Simpson's version of The Raven.  It's not so bad.  It paints a less dark picture but still gets the point across.  Hey, anything you can do to get these millennials engaged, right?
If any teachers, students, or readers got something out of this, I would love some feedback or advice.  We will be studying Poe at least for the rest of the week.  He was a complicated man, after all.

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

WIP (Work in Progress) Wednesday

I have just completed and sent out one adult mermaid tail, two t-shirt quilts, and one crocheted Cabbage Patch Kid hat.

The mermaid tail was ordered by a You-tube sensation, Ginger Wesson.  She has a You-tube channel called "As Told by Ginger."  Check it out and subscribe.  She has 33,368 subscribers.  How about you make that 33,369?  Some of her videos have been viewed up to 25,000 times!  Her videos include makeup tutorials, vlogs about her life, question and answer sessions, silly stories, and my favorite-Harry Potter and Disney fan videos.  She also does product reviews.  She said if she likes my mermaid tail, she will do a video review for it.  How exciting!  Fingers crossed that she loves it!  Her mermaid tail is two strands of yarn woven together in alternating colors.  I made it by doing my own modifications to the pattern found at this link on Mad Hooker Crochet's blog.  Thanks Shelly Bunyard!

Message me on Facebook or email me at if you are interested in ordering one for yourself.  Prices for a baby tails start at $50, child start at $80, and adult start at $100.

The t-shirt quilt was made in the "rag quilt style."  It was made as a surprise for a woman's husband.  He is a car and motorcycle enthusiast.  His wife also threw his sheets from when he was a little boy into the we have Snoopy...
auto racing...
and cars, all thrown into the mix to create this...

The second t-shirt quilt was for my uncle.  His parents both passed away earlier this year, and both battled cancer.  This was an "in-memory" quilt.  It included numerous American Cancer Society shirts.


The back of the quilt even had shirts with pockets.  I love how it turned out.  He loved it, too.  He said it brought back lots of memories.

T-shirt (onsie, sheets, blankets, etc.) quilts start at $80 for a baby blanket and $100 for an adult blanket.  Prices are based on the number of shirts, style of quilt, and amount of additional material needed.  Message me for price inquiry.

And last, but not least, I have the Cabbage Patch crochet hat.  It was made using a free hat pattern found at Repeat Crafter Me.  Thanks, Sarah.  I can't wait to see it on the little one in her Halloween pictures.
Now on to my current projects.  I am in the middle of making a blue, gray, and white full-size zig-zag crochet blanket for a friend.  It is sitting in the passenger seat of my car and I work on it in the car on the way to school.  My husband and I carpool.  Don't worry.  I don't crochet while driving.

Last night I got started on my next t-shirt quilt.  It will be a graduation gift from a mother to her son.  It is all of his old wrestling shirts.  It is an extra special project for me because it reminds me of the quilt my mom had made for me as my high school graduation gift.  It included shirts from my high school running days, back when I was winning races.  The fun part of this project for me is embroidering on his "tournament champion" labels.  His quilt will be quite a display of talent, hard work, and success.  The finished product will be like a trophy he can cuddle up in.
The first step of the process included cutting all of the shirts in half and cutting off the sleeves.  I did this for about 40 shirts, many of them having images or words on both the front and the back.  From these 40 or so shirts, I cut 60 squares to use in the quilt.  Between the tshirt squares on the front and the ones on the back, I will sandwich a square of flannel.  So I also cut 30 squares of flannel.  That's a total of 90 squares for the quilt.  Step one of the quilt...done.
Next I will sew the "sandwiches" together...the front quilt square, the flannel square, and the back quilt square...
Then sew the "sandwiches into rows then columns...
Then snip the raw edges of each square every quarter inch or so to create the rag effect...
Then throw it in the wash on a gentle cycle...
Then toss it in the dryer on tumble, making sure to empty the lint from the machine every few minutes.  There will be lots of it. 
Then I will fold it up all pretty and present it to this wrestler mom to give to her son for Christmas.
It will continue to produce lint with every wash for the next few washings, making the edges fray more and more.  That's just what rag quilts do.  When the edges are all puffy, it will no longer fray each time it is washed.
Off to work on the crochet blanket tonight on the couch while watching some playoff baseball with the hubby.