The Long and Winding Thread

Sooner or later this was going to bring us to the topic of Quilting. It is a path that has been long and circuitous for me.

Warning: This story is long and circuitous too.

It all started some time back in the early 80's when I had 4 children under the age of 6 or 7, and felt it was the duty of all young mothers . . . who were good mothers . . . to be creative, crafty little homemakers. (This involved stencilling fabric and putting it in embroidery hoops with lace hot-glued around the edge and hanging it on the wall in groupings with bunches of dried flowers.) But, I digress.

I did have sewing experience under my belt. Those experiences involved a home-ec teacher named Mrs. Smiley, (who did not) and an all too patient mother who would finish what I didn't after a certain period of time. As the mother of 3 little girls and 1 baby boy, however, I was proud to say that the children had sported a certain number of matching outfits at my hand, until a certain someone (hereafter known as "Mr. Ess" or "PDaddy.") put the ix-nay on the boy matching the girls thing.

But, I digress some more.

My first quilt was pieced on my machine and quilted by hand, all done by reading a magazine article. I still have it. (Actually, this daughter does.) I went back to sewing clothes for the girls and didn't quilt again for a few more years. At that point, I had the unusually bright idea to actually take a class in quilting. My first project for that was a pillow . . . which I do not still have . . . and that is really for the best. I made quilts (from patterns) off and on over the next several years.

In 2001 a good friend of mine -- who taught lots of classes -- asked me to be a part of a "Block Exchange" where everyone makes 12 of the same block (all with a "theme") and then exchanges them so each individual has 12 different blocks to make into a quilt. Then I did a really odd thing. I actually made them into a quilt, which apparently is not the norm. My friend complemented me on that and . . . a monster was born.

Not wanting to appear inexperienced, I designed all of my own blocks for the exchange quilts. At that point, drooling became commonplace for me, the room where I did sewing became a "Sewing Room" and I reaggrivated a herniated disc from sitting in one place so long. In 2003 I went to work at a fabric store and ended up teaching classes there.

If this turned out to be the most boring story in the history of mankind then I suggest that you go watch some paint dry to put things in perspective. As for me, I'm going upstairs to sew.

And I'm wearing a bib . . . 'cause it still makes me drool.