January 08, 2009
It was bound to happen sometime. Yes, it was. No avoiding it. Despite my resistance, it was always on the cards. And so I acquiesced. Caved in. Purchased the fat quarters. Resolved to finally try my hand at sewing a quilt.
Here's how it happened ...
During our recent holiday we took a driving break. We parked in the shade of some expansive, leafy trees by the side of a lake. A picnic was spread and we reclined in the dappled light and mild breeze. Each family member munched on a sandwich, lost in their own thoughts.
Mr HB: This picnic would be so much better if I had my laptop and a beer.
Argy: This picnic would be so much better if it was on that ace tram that's rattling by, with all those shrieking big kids hanging out the windows.
Bargy: This picnic would be so much better if it was over there in those reeds, where we could test out if the lake has really dried up.
Hoppo Bumpo: I wish we weren't sitting on this disgusting tarpaulin. This picnic would have been so much better on a gorgeous handmade rug.
So when we reached our destination, I made for the local fabric shop, post-haste. I selected a large bundle of fat quarters, Maywood Studio's brightly coloured Bees Knees collection. My plan: to make a picnic rug. Possibly a large one. Very large. (Can anyone enlighten me - is 37 fat quarters, excessive for one's first quilt top?)
Who knows if - or when - it will turn out. I've selected a nine-patch block pattern, which promises the beginner no fiddly points or strange fractions of inches. The pattern doesn't however mention suitability where said beginner suffers afflictions of lackadaisical saw-tooth cutting and variable gauge seams.
I think I'm about to discover that quilting aint no picnic ...