Those helpful hands belong to my daughter. We were putting blue squares on the design wall (which is actually a length of batting clipped onto the drapery rod in front of my office windows). Nancy does a lot of the step ladder work which keeps me from whining about my sore hip.
Last week we put together a dark red quilt top. Next week we are turning our design talents to a gray one. We like them all. It’s a design that lets me use up a lot of smaller pieces of fabric.
I call these the “Post Prostatectomy Series”, because I’ve sewn them all while Banjo Man has been recovering from his surgery.
When I am stressed I have to DO SOMETHING. Whether it’s baking, cooking, cleaning out closets, selling stuff on Ebay or sewing, I have to keep busy or I will self-destruct. Last fall half a tree landed on our house and came through the living room, the furnace was broken for a month, windows cracked, and of course the absolute worst of all: Banjo Man’s cancer diagnosis and treatments and tests and surgery. So I sewed a lot. Pretty much every day. Cutting fabric is soothing, believe me. Especially while listening to British history podcasts or watching old episodes of Time Team on Amazon.
Yesterday I sat down to alleviate my fabric-buying guilt. I knew I had used a lot of fabric this winter and was ready to pat myself on the back and rid myself of a guilty longing to return to Material Girls in Nebraska, where the best fabrics in the universe reside.
I went through my patterns and added up the fabric requirements. I estimated the yardage on the designs I created myself. And the total amount of fabric I have used this fall/winter/spring?
Let me say that again: 130 YARDS!!!!
I did the math three times over two days and came up with the same amount. Then I organized my shelves, folded fabric, neatened bins. But I had no empty spaces, no gaping holes where 130 yards of fabric used to be. What the heck????!!! I do not understand.
It’s one of those mysteries of life.
As Banjo Man continues to improve, my not-very-stressed-anymore energy has gone into preparing for the long-awaited trip to the lake. I’m digging out summer clothes and deciding what to take.
It’s another one of life’s mysteries as to why I own four pairs of exercise pants.
Never mind. Three of them have gone into the donation bag.
Three weeks from tomorrow we head west. We’re shipping clothes and taking very few suitcases, as Banjo Man won’t be lifting heavy things for some time to come. He should have a bit more energy by then, so we look forward to the trip. And the summer.
The lake awaits, but maybe I should stay out of quilt shops.