As I’ve mentioned before, I enrolled myself, after begging and pleaded to be admitted, into a quilting class at the local quilt shop, Calico Junction. In the three hours after work, I learn about everything that I am doing wrong, go home and attempt to do it right, and then bring back the squares and ripped seams to ask again for special ed.
Over the weekend, I finished sewing the three main squares of the exciting table runner. Who uses table runners anyway? I have a feeling my grandma might, but that’s another story. The first square used a “flying geese” pattern that required sewing one square on top of the other at a diagonal (a scant 1/4 inch?!?). Trying to line up all the seams was a headache and I nearly shredded the fabric trying and trying again to line everything up. The heart of the problem was that I hadn’t pressed the folds in the correct direction. Yeah. Ironing. Joy.
Once I figured out my mistake and, yes, learned from it, I set with a vengeance on getting the pieces together. I guess I like creating things and then stepping back, proud as a peacock, admiring my creation. That translates to baking as well. “Look — I made something out of this!” I seem to gloat, sometimes quietly and sometime audibly. After long weekends, I’ve been known to prance through the office with a show and tell. Now there’s an idea. Elementary school teachers had it right!