A couple of days ago I finished this quilt top; in the meantime, I’ve quilted it, sewn around the perimeter, and just need to attach the binding. Sometimes making a quilt is like snapping one’s fingers. I don’t know why that is, but I am very grateful for it.
Lately life has fallen thusly; wake and get the husband off to work, eat breakfast then shower, then read three chapters of The Hawk. Then I run errands, returning home in time for lunch, which leads to an afternoon of sewing. No complaints from me; after months of shuttling around the state, this time of calm is much appreciated. The last two quilts have seemed extraordinarily quick to complete, and now that I’m halfway through The Hawk, I cringe when it’s time to move onto other tasks. At times life moves along very rapidly, which I try to grasp as this is accomplished, that is finished. When I wake, eager to start my day, I know that day is indeed very blessed.
Each quilt, like every novel, is equally precious; this one is for my sister, who loves Hawaiian shirts. She adores The Islands too, so I hope this reminds her a little of that treasured getaway, until her next sojourn there. Backed with flannel, it will also keep her warm as cooler temps slowly creep into this part of the world. I have more errands for this morning, but when I get home, I will relish sewing on a scrappy and mostly blue binding. Sometimes making a quilt is as effortless as writing a first draft.
Ahem; having said that, I’m still itching to return to writing The Hawk, but am relaxing for now in the reading of that tale. Part of my tempered joy is noting how easily that book was written, when I was writing it. I planned out very little, but as chapters are digested, I can’t help but be so pleased for how the pieces fall into place. It’s like looking at a finished quilt top, a prepared binding, and a flannel sheet that doesn’t need to be prepped to turn into a quilt back. I did trim off the excess, which I’ve saved for another project. But how simple was it to lay that sheet across my bed, roll out the batting, trimming that to fit, then smoothing out the quilt top; it all happened within yesterday afternoon, which was followed by the basting, which led to the quilting, which culminated in….
In another quilt nearly under the hammer. Which leads me to believe that one of these days The Hawk will also be another finished book. The timetable is different to that of a quilt; it’s probably worth several comforters, but the story’s wide scope covers a gamut of themes. No way to wrap up so many ideas in one afternoon.
And life doesn’t work that way either; it’s a reason, or a season, or forever. Granted, The Hawk better not take me forever, good grief! It will take as long as it needs, which right now might feel like far longer than I would like. But then, yesterday I didn’t expect to take one completed quilt top and turn it into nearly an entire quilt. Hmmm, that’s pretty amazing. But then, life is darn surprising. We just can’t imagine how it’s going to evolve.
Which is the beauty and fun of it all. Tropical Pop quilts, long novels, and one errand in particular, to the local bakery, to order a peace I mean peach pie. And them bring home a couple of slices of celebratory cake. I might not have finished writing The Hawk, but by tonight, a new quilt will only need to be thrown into the washer. That certainly deserves a worthy dessert, and I think I’m just the quilting author to take up the challenge.