I was about to start this post with “we had a low-key, restful weekend” but then I stopped and laughed out loud because had you sat in the upstairs craft room with me for the last two days, “restful” and “low-key” would not be the words you’d use to describe the environment.
More like “focused” and “intense” and “ranting”.
One of my goals for the new year is to FINISH WHAT I’VE STARTED and I’ve been pecking away at the abandoned pile of projects, most of which were set aside because
I lost interest they were too tedious, beyond my skill level, or beyond all hope of repair. I finished two knitting projects, threw one half-baked sewing project away because I’d already gotten $4.99 worth of aggravation delight out of it, and then turned to….the quilt.
Yes, THAT quilt. The one I started last January when I decided that I was going to become a quilter. I pieced the top together in a weekend and then started quilting it and OH MY WORD AT THE TEDIOUS. After about three days of fighting it through my machine, I folded it up and walked away for the better part of eleven months.
But it mocked me.
It sat in the corner and whispered “You can’t do this well at all” and I got sucked into its little lie until I had a little epiphany in late December after a run of spectacularly failed holiday crafting that IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE PERFECT.
It doesn’t have to look like my friend’s quilts.
It doesn’t have to look like my grandmother’s.
It doesn’t have to hang in an Amish museum, and frankly, they wouldn’t take it.
But it reflects me.
And not a straight line to be found anywhere.
So I picked it up this weekend and spent hours Saturday finishing the quilting and then started making my binding and spent a while on that only to find that I made it waaay too narrow because I didn’t measure well.
Or really at all.
So I despaired. I despaired mightily. I texted Amy and unloaded all my wrath and agony and she told me to go to bed and sleep on it. So I did and woke up the next morning and phoned my quilt whisperer who lives in Northern Virginia (hi, Kris!!!) and found out all the things I did wrong but she talked me off the ledge and told me that it was all going to be okay and that those Amish women were certifiable anyway and so I made friends with my seam ripper and re-started the binding process.
And so, after two days of work, I am still not done.
But I am ALMOST done.
And I WILL be done.
And then I will rest from my labors under a heavy, warm quilt that will hopefully not split apart the minute I wrap it around my body.
Because then the Amish lady won’t be the only one that’s certifiable.
Have a nice day.