Reflections on the Seventh Week of Fall – 40% Discount for Pirates

Materials for Charlie's Quilt

   “YES!”

    George, cat-napping on the floor bedside my chair, jumped to his paws and merrowed.

    I reached down and petted his head. “Sorry, George.”

    Gail, Homespun Treasurers Quilt Shop owner and long time member of my quilt guild, announced her progressive Halloween sale for October 28.

         6-7 p.m. Wear a costume and get 30% off.

      7-8 p.m. Bring candy and get 35% off.

          8-9 p.m. Wear a costume, bring a friend in costume, 

        and get 40% off.

          9-10 p.m. Wear PJ's and get 40% off or 50% off kits.

          10-11 p.m. Wear PJs, bring a friend in PJ’s, and get 

        50% off 2 items.

    Since quilt fabric costs $10 to $12 a yard, I purchase fabric for major projects at Gail’s annual sale. This year I’d buy fabric to sew a quilt for my son Charlie. The pirate costume, which I’d made for a writing conference last May, hung in my closet. Wearing the costume and taking a friend would make the fabric more affordable.

    Could I talk my neighbor Kathy into wearing a costume for the 40% discount? She’d refused last year so we shopped at the candy hour. With nineteen days until the sale, maybe I could persuade her.

    Tapping keys, I forwarded the email to Kathy and wrote, “Let me know if you’re interested in wearing a costume and going at eight.”

    A week later, still waiting to hear from Kathy, I climbed to the loft and sat on the edge of the bed beside the storage box holding folders and books of quilt patterns. Crouching so I wouldn’t hit my head on the sloping ceiling, I studied the patterns. Tossing back blocks with appliqué or curves, I visualized other patterns in the “fall colors” Charlie suggested for his bedroom. Would he like Gentleman’s Fancy, Card Trick, or Pennsylvania? I ripped scrap paper to mark those blocks and ten others.

    By the Tuesday before the sale, I’d increased the pattern choices to sixteen and checked email for Kathy’s answer yet again. Zilch. Maybe her digestion problem flared-up.

    While Spence napped on the sofa, I pulled on a jacket, stepped onto the porch, and called her. “How are you feeling? Have your digestive issues resolved?”

    “Oh . . . that . . . so you didn’t hear about the tractor?”

    Why did Kathy sound sheepish? “No.”

    “Saturday, I’d decided to mow between the road and the cow pasture one last time. I cut the strip by the road then turned to go up the bank like I’ve done for years. The dumb tractor tipped, threw me off, and landed on my leg with the cutter still spinning.”

    “Gosh! Did the blade slice your leg?”

    “No. The tire ran over my leg and kept going. The tractor headed for the pasture. I didn’t want it breaking the fence, so I got up, chased the bugger, and turned the wheel–too hard. The tractor headed straight for the creek. I chased the bugger again and turned the key to shut it off.”

    Our grass looked long and lumpy because it’s been too wet when Spence had time to mow. “So you didn’t do that final mowing.”

    “Oh, I wasn’t going to let the bugger get the best of me. I mowed the field Sunday then drove myself to the emergency room.”

    Not the best time to ask her about shopping, but if she said no, I’d have time to find another friend. “Do you think you’ll feel up to the Halloween sale at Gail’s on Saturday? I can bring Spence’s peasant shirt and vest for you to throw over your clothes.”

    “Oh . . . that . . . My leg and back ache like heck. I’ll call you Friday night when I know how I feel.”

    “Feel better.” I walked back inside and slid the phone into the charger stand. “Rats.”

    Spence sat up. “What’s the matter?”

    I related the tractor saga while he muttered, “That’s horrible. Did it cut her? Why don’t you invite another friend?”

    “I need to wait until she calls back Friday night–too late to ask someone else.”

    “I could go with you, but don’t ask my opinion on anything.”

    Spence playing blocks on his phone while women in costumes giggle and swarm through the shop? Probably not.

    The next morning Gail emailed an updated schedule which changed the first two slots.

         5-7 p.m. Wear a costume and get 30% off.

         7-8 p.m. Wear a costume, bring candy, and get 35% off.

    If Kathy didn’t go, I’d wear the pirate costume and settle for the 35% discount.

    Friday afternoon while Spence drove to Miller’s Country Store for bacon, cheese, and a candy bar for the Halloween sale, I climbed to the loft, sat on a comfy chair at the sewing table, and studied quilt patterns. I returned to the Mansfield Park quilt in Jane Austen Quilts Inspired by Her Novels again and again. The yellow chain running through the middle of the blocks n formed large diamonds on the quilt. Intriguing. Besides, Charlie had given me that quilt book, and sewing a quilt inspired by an Austen novel appealed to the Janeite in me. I could substitute Four Square 2 for the adapted Old Maid’s Puzzle block, inappropriate for a grown man.

    Waiting for the phone to ring Friday night, I drew the quilt’s two block designs on graph paper, shaded each fabric area with a different colored pencil, and calculated yardage. I’d need one to three yards of seven fabrics for a total of fourteen yards.

    Kathy didn’t call.

    When I called her Saturday afternoon, she said, “I just got back from errands in Greenville. It’s miserable out there–cold and rainy and windy. I’m exhausted.”

    No use prolonging the decision. “I guess you’re too tired to go to the sale tonight.”

    “Oh . . . that . . . Yeah. I’ll pass this time.”

May Photo of Pirate Costume

    After dinner, I slipped into the thin, purple and black pirate costume and shivered. Leaving the eye patch on the dresser, I stuffed the candy bar, block drawings, calculations, quilt book, wallet, and flashlight into a brown sack. I grabbed my winter coat and hustled to the car.

    With the heater on high, I drove through country dark to Gail’s. Wind tossed tree branches, rain splattered the windshield, and a luminescent pair of white eyeballs–reflecting my high beams–disappeared into the woods. I didn’t stop to investigate which animal owned the eyes.

    The bell on Gail’s shop door dinged, and I stepped inside at 7:03.

    Gail pulled her red cardigan tighter around her chest. “Hi, Janet. As you can see, I’m dressed as a shop keeper.”

    I opened the sack and transferred the candy bar to her empty plastic jack-’o-lantern. “Am I your only customer?”

    “You are now. I had four earlier. My two helpers are in the back cutting material. The weather’s keeping people away.”

    I shrugged out of my coat and hung it on the back of a chair. “They might come later to get a better discount.”

    Doubt clouded Gail’s face, but she said, “I hope so.”

    I browsed and selected a bolt of gold fabric, perfect for the yellow chain making the diamonds.

    A woman wearing a denim jacket, with individual-serving-size cereal boxes, a plastic knife, and a toy gun attached, walked in from the back room where Gail keeps books, kits, and fat quarters. “I’m a cereal killer,” she said and paused for my laugh. “What project are you working on?”

    I set the gold fabric on the cutting table, pulled out my drawings, and opened the book to the Mansfield Park quilt. “I want to make this in fall colors for my son.”

    The cereal killer nodded and turned to the shelves.

    I found a rust red, Gail brought fall leaves, and the cereal killer offered two browns. I rejected the brown specked with blue,

    Gail’s second helper, a devil with fluffy blue horns, joined us. “What are you making?”

    I showed the devil the picture of the quilt and my block sketches. Pointing to a triangle covering one square and two half squares, I said, “Would you piece this?”

    She shook her horns. “It’s easier to sew that as a whole piece. Just cut it larger than you think you’ll need.”

    Ten minutes later, twenty bolts of fabric cluttered the cutting table. Laying each bolt across the gold, I selected eight which matched the gold and each other.

    Gail brushed her hand over the fall leaf fabric. “This ties the quilt together. It has all the colors.”

    “I want the gold to be the focal point.”

    “It will. The leaf fabric would be the secondary prominent color.” She pointed to the Cross in a Cross block in the quilt book. “The fabric would work for the cross and the trim.”

    I sorted the bolts again and kept six.

    The cereal killer squinted. “You’ve got a nice balance of warm and cool colors.”

    The devil placed another bolt on the table. “I think you need a green.”

    Her green did match, but I wanted reds, browns, and golds. “What I need is a black print for the sashing.”
     The women fetched six blacks.

    I picked the one with grayish brown circles.

    Gail and I matched fabrics to colors on my block drawings then rechecked yardage.

    At 7:50, Gail cut the sixth of seven fabrics, and the cereal killer looked out the front door. “There’s a car outside with the lights on.” She stepped closer to the door. “Someone’s sitting in the car.”

    Gail unfolded the black fabric. “Why wouldn’t they come inside where it’s warm?”

    “They’re probably waiting for the eight o’clock discount,” I said and tucked my papers into the quilt book then stashed it in the brown sack.

    At 7:57 the shop door opened, the bell dinged, and a witch stepped inside. “Are we too early for the eight o’clock sale?”

    “You’re fine,” Gail said inputting yardage and prices into her computer.

    A cleaning lady, Mad Hatter, gypsy, and woman in PJs followed the witch.

   The women giggled and gawked at fabrics. On the way to the back room, the witch called over her shoulder. “We’re all over sixty and had as much fun as if we were sixteen dressing to come to the Halloween party.”

    I handed Gail my credit card.

    She swiped it. “I’m giving you the 40% discount. Thanks for shopping at my store.”

   Having Gail and her two helpers consult on fabric choices for nearly an hour and getting 40% off despite my 7:03 arrival? Fun indeed.

Halloween Lights