I have to go back to work tomorrow. Sigh. Although I like my job, it is work nonetheless.
So, a million years ago I began collecting reproduction fabrics from the 30's for a quilt I wanted to make.
A few months ago, I cut out the pieces and began to sew the blocks. This was at the quilt camp from hell.
A few weeks ago I began to sew the blocks together.
And now the quilt is done.
I am glad it's done.
Because it has filled me with rage and hate and angst and every other rotten emotion as this was a quilt that I was hoping to not make stupid mistakes on.
Alas, dreams were made to be broken.
I don't really have a bona fide quilters personality. I am not anal retentive enough to tear out all my mistakes. I have more of a "eh, fuck it" attitude. That, coupled with my failure to comprehend techniques and learnings that I glean from books and talented friends, leaves me with a lot of, eh, fuck ups.
I am hampered by the fact that I don't have a flat surface in which to lay my quilt down anywhere in my house. The kitchen floor is the place with the most space but it still wasn't large enough.
But excuses are not permissible in the quilting world.
My blocks are not aligned.
My quilt back has a pucker in it thanks to my basting after three tequila shots. (Don't baste when you're basted).
And I did leave a little square to put my name and the year on but now I don't know if I will...I might just put the name of someone that I don't like and blame them for it.
But it is warm. and it is colorful. and it is DONE!