Overbooked and Underpaid: Notes from a Yes-aholic

How NOT To Make A Quilt In 10 Easy (Not) Steps

How NOT to make a quilt.

Step 1.)

Do NOT say to yourself: "Hey, self, you know what might be fun to make, without any experience, or having taken a class, or even picking up a "how to" book?

A Quilt!

Specifically something called a "pieced top quilt" (a label you've never even heard of until after you've attempted to make said quilt.)

Step 2.)

Especially do NOT choose the design for the construction of your quilt by casually perusing some pretty images of quilt patterns and saying: "That 'Pinwheel' thingy looks pretty easy."

Step 3.)

After choosing your quilt construction pattern, do NOT dig through your giant plastic bin of A) leftover material from your sewing days in the 80's B) leftover fabric from your mother's projects in the 60's C) ancient cloth left over from your grandmother's dressmaking in the 40's, and D) various old clothes you've decided to cut up and repurpose, thereby mixing washed and unwashed, thick and thin, tight weave and loose etc.

Step 4.)

Do NOT proceed to make the triangle template (on which you will base all your cutting) out of another fragment of fabric instead of a nice sturdy piece of cardboard or plastic.

Step 5.)

At all costs do NOT cut out your pinwheel triangles casually, eyeballing them and saying: "Yeah, that looks to be pretty much the same dimensions as the other pieces."

Step 6.)

Be sure NOT to cut your fabric any old which way you can get the largest number of triangles out of one piece - blithely disregarding direction of weave and unaware of something called "cutting on the bias".

Step 7.)

When the time comes to assemble all your triangles into something called "quilt blocks", for pity's sake please DON'T decide not to measure any of the finished blocks and trim them all to the same size.

Step 8.)

After ironing all the blocks and sewing them together, perhaps it might be best NOT to pin the top to the batting and the backing (that you never 'pre-washed') with any and all straight pins you might find lying around the house. Especially the old rusty ones.

Step 9.)

Do NOT grab willy nilly whatever white thread is cheapest at the craft store - ignoring the big bank of something called "QUILTING THREAD'. Along with the "QUILTING NEEDLES".

Step 10.)

Finally, after all your hard work that has yielded, not a twin bed sized rectangle, but rather a skimpy sort of skewed trapezoid, do NOT slap a large black border onto the whole shebang, cutting across quilt blocks higgledy piggledy so that you finally have something vaguely akin to an actual rectangular bedspread.

 

Despite my many mistakes I have to admit it still looks kind of nice :-)

 For the story of how this quilt came to be, how it left my house and returned 18 years later, and more pictures click here.

 

 

 

 

A Quilt Journey

Once upon a time I made a quilt.

I made a LOT of mistakes.

(You can read about those by clicking here.)

 I don't actually remember what possessed me to make a quilt. I had never done such a thing before. (And haven't since)

When it comes to sewing I have a passing acquaintance with my grandmother's Singer Featherweight machine, inherited in 1984 and used, over the years, approximately 37 times to make a small variety of projects comprised primarily of rectangles.

Tote bags, throw pillow covers, a sort of "fort of curtains" for my boys' bunk beds, that kind of thing. (I did once make a couple of dresses - they did not fit well and have been justly relegated to a bin of mementos in the attic.)

Perhaps, because I had seen some nice quilts that seemed to be composed of patterns using straight lines, I though the thing would be easy and a shot worth taking.

At any rate I worked on the quilt on and off for about 8 months and proceeded to give it away to a friend.

"You just gave it away?!!"

Yes.

Because back in those days my husband and I made art all year long and then, just before Christmas we would threw a big party, invite our closest friends, and give it all away.

There was one small catch.

The gifts had to be fought for.

If you've ever played the "White Elephant" game or the "Dirty Santa" game you already know what I'm talking about.

For the uninitiated the game goes thusly: Everone draws a number from a hat. The first person opens a gift. The second person can either open a different gift or steal the one the first person opened. This goes on and on, opening and stealing, until the dust settles and everyone winds up with something. Perhaps not something they actually wanted. But something.

Over the years we made, and dispersed, some very cool things. In the case of the quilt, it went to a friend whose mother was a quilter and that seemed fitting.

I like to say I have never regretted letting any of these items go. And mostly that's true.

But I have to admit that there have been two pieces I've secretly wanted back.

One of them was the quilt.

It had been so long. Did she use it? Did she still love it? Was there any tactful way to ask for it?

Then, out of the blue, my friend contacted me and wanted to meet for lunch. We had a lovely "catch up" chat and she told me she was moving.

And downsizing.

And would I be terribly offended, because they really were NOT going to have much room in the new place, would I be horribly, awfully, irretrievably upset, if she gave me back a couple of things?

She turned to a backpack and unzipped and I saw the hint of red and black that meant my quilt.

I kept my cool.

I did NOT jump up and down.

But I kind of wanted to.

And now the quilt is back. And will not leave again unless it departs with one of my children or grandchildren.

And I smile when I think of her nervousness to ask if I could take it back and my nervousness to ask her for it.

And I am so thankful for friends who love handmade things.

And don't sell them for a dollar at a garage sale.