I take a lot of pictures in the midst of a quilting project; I love to share my work with my daughters, and I find it handy when later I blog about the cotton WIP. Not much to shoot when writing a novel, other than sometimes wishing to kick a few characters in the keister.
My current quilt-top is special; it’s for my youngest, and that has never been in question. I’ve had the fabrics, including some lovely light blue micro fleece for the back, for what feels like ages, according to my sewing timeline. I cut the fabrics back in March, and they lived in a neat stack in a drawer as other projects emerged. I wanted/needed time to acclimate to my sewing machine, and to gather the courage for what I had in mind for that child’s quilt.
If nothing else, I do enjoy a challenge.
This week began the whale-quilt saga, and I dove in with few reservations; either it was going to work, or I’d come up with another plan. Actually, I only devised how I was going to sew this quilt-top one day last week; I would sew one row, then another, piece them together, then attach the big blocks to complete those rows. Maybe that’s convoluted, but if nothing else, it made sense to me.
Still, I was, well, hesitant. But fearless is my mantra in this quilting endeavor. So a’fearlessly I began sewing rows of whale/sea-themed fabrics, amid Giants baseball…
Now, also this week, yesterday in fact, I learned of the death of a writer within the cooperative that I used to contribute to. David Keith’s forte was the short story; he was a keen author with great emphasis on human relationships. He could also bring a Scottish accent to literary life, and as I sewed rows, baseball in the background, I considered how brief is life; his, mine, all of us. I wondered if he’d been in the middle of a story, and how that tale would never be completed.
Made me want to finish this quilt-top, as well as ponder The Hawk, lingering within my computer.
When I started sewing on Monday, I was eager to see this project done, in that it was the most complicated I’d attempted, fitting those big blocks into patchwork rows. However, it came together more easily than I had imagined, which was a pleasant surprise. Now, on Wednesday, I’ll finish the top, probably even get the binding made. I’m so blessed to have the time for these crafty and literary undertakings, but time is a slippery slope that none of us can corral. Yet, I’m not overly worried about it, for equally I am firm in the belief that what needs to be accomplished most certainly will. I guess it’s a matter of being cognizant of the gift of time, not to dread that it will disappear prematurely. It will be what it will be, and I’ll make whatever quilts I’m supposed to fashion, and I’ll write (and complete) whatever books are destined to carry my name.
It’s a matter of appreciating this day for what it is, Giants’ loss last night not dwelled upon, or that I sewed a whale block on the wrong end of the rows. Ripping out a few seams is small potatoes at the end of the day, and there’s another ball game this morning. More baseball, a few more blocks of whales, a few more tales to tell.
All part and parcel of the whole, methinks.