The Genetics of Mismeasurement

It is now September, and that means it is time to get my classroom ready for a new school year.  I have had the same bulletin boards for years (well, same fabric on them at least) so I decided that I was ready for some change.  I found an adorable vintage looking owl/apple print, and a turquoise and reddish color to accent it with.  I estimated on how much fabric to buy, then regretted not just measuring ahead of time when I saw my total bill for the day, then went to school the next day to measure the exact specifications of each piece of fabric.  I didn’t have a tape measure at work, but I thought “I will just use this 18 inch ruler!  Not a problem”.  OR big problem.

I set off to my amazing grandma’s house to have her help me cut the fabric to the right sides.  She graciously not only helped me, but sent me home with a miniature homemade peach pie.  DELICIOUS!

The next day, I excitedly went to school to hang up my beautiful new fabric.  I began stapling it up (no easy feat when you are singlehandedly stapling up fabric that is multiple yards long – this probably should have been on film for all your amusement).  As I got to the end of the piece, I was crushed to discover that my fabric was multiple feet short.  WHat?  Was an 18 inch ruler not the ideal measurement tool??  I pieced together the extra fabric I’d cut off, and now you can barely tell that I am a mismeasuring fool.  (photos to come)

But tune in tomorrow for the continuation of the classroom project saga, where we learn which parent I inherited my measuring skills from.  (love you dad!)

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