This has already been the craziest winter I've experienced in a while. In the fall I taught four classes while writing and finishing my dissertation. I drove 1600 miles cross country for my dissertation defense, and then AGAIN for my graduation. For the remainder of my winter break, I did very little aside from eating, watching movies, and getting back into quilting (modern quilting). The two trips and the expense of participating in commencement and buying a very serious-looking diploma frame embossed with the university logo (hey! how many Ph.D.'s am I gonna get?) forced us to have a modest Christmas and I wanted to make something nice for my parents gift. So I went through all my books, scoured the internet for a good-lookin', do-able pattern and found this tutorial for a quilt called Tunnel Visions, a nice simple pattern with measurements I could tweak for my crib-sized batting. So I pared it down to 20 blocks (5 across, 4 down), pulled out some leftover off-white squares and triangles from my first quilt, and cut some corresponding colors.
As it is here, all laid out, is how I had wanted it. I never anticipated I could mess it up. The darks and lights and the sort of three-D box repeating pattern makes sense to me. I even carried the pieces square by square to the machine, and row by row, so I wouldn't mess it up.
But no sooner did I start sewing than I started messing up my own plans. I messed up the positioning of the middle 1/3 of the blocks in an entire row. I sewed one row together vertically instead of horizontally, I sewed the blocks together backwards. Everything. Probably compounded with the fact that I was going to gift this to my meticulous mother! I just kept going and eventually had a quilt top that was (mostly) as perfect as I could get it.
Of course the fun part of quilting is making the top. The rest of quilting-- the actual "quilting" part is where everyone stalls (including me). I suck at basting. I'm too impatient (like my baking skills!). Zipper and Mini love to chase the tail of whatever thread I'm using, making all of my careful smoothing and taping and un-bunching of the layers completely useless.
But I did it. I made it. I finished and did the binding and made up my own quilting style.
Here's Bijoux enjoying its luxurious, colorful comfort under his paws.
When I presented my parents, who live three hours away, with my freshly finished quilt, a gift, after all, for Christmas, my dad shrugged and suggested my mom would probably be the one to use it, since she's the one who lounges under blankets on the couch (let alone brightly colored ones). While both of them were standing there, I self-deprecatingly told them not to look at the back, since that's where its pucker-y imperfections are the most visible. They promptly looked unfolded it and looked primarily at the back. Then my mom asked if I had washed it yet. I hadn't (I just finished it the night before). She took it, folded it back up, and put it in the laundry hamper in their bedroom.
Zips has half a mind to drive up there and get it back. I'm just going to keep sewing one for myself instead. It'll be even better, and more perfect. And I know Zips will love it and appreciate my hard work every day.
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