Reflections
on the Eighth Week of Spring – Reinventing the Charm
Raffle Quilt with Border Pinned to Right Side
My quilt guild has a reputation for bickering
(though
most people use a different adjective starting with “b”). Each
member is exotic and creative in her own way―a
delight to chat or work with. But stitch us together for a business
meeting? Sheesh! We form one crazy quilt.
Gail, founder of the Country Charms Quilt Guild and owner of Homespun
Treasurers where the guild meets, announced, “You can’t put on a
show with twenty-one people.”
Pat,
another veteran, agreed. “It’s too much work. We’ve put on
enough shows.”
Eyebrows
of newer members rose.
Linda,
president because no one else wanted the job, started a campaign. “If
we do neat projects, people will see how much fun we have. They’ll
want to join.”
“Don’t
let them come to a business meeting,” someone mumbled.
Linda
advertised fun nights on Facebook.
-
Demonstrate Kim Templin’s diamond cutting ruler.
-
Create self portraits from scraps.
-
Make Radiant Stars.
Two
people joined. Eight more left. We had seventeen members.
“We
can’t have a quilt show now.” Pat shoved her fists against her
hips. “We don’t need one anyway.”
“The
community does,” I blurted out. “We give to the community through
the quilt show, and I joined the guild because I enjoy the shows.”
“Too
bad.” Pat hit her fist against the table. “We’re too old.”
But
Pat’s fist didn’t tie up the debate. During the next four
meetings, we voted on a quilt show with mixed results―no,
yes, maybe―and without reaching a
quorum. When we voted over the Internet, we got more votes than
members.
Fourteen
members attended last October’s business meeting.
Pat
sighed. “Well, we could downsize. Hold the show at Our Lady of
Lourdes for one day. Limit the entries to two per person. And I could
ask the church ladies to do the food.”
Her
downsizing idea passed. Only Pat and Gail voted no.
Member
by member.
Vote
by vote.
“Oh,
I’ll be the chair.” Pat said after the vote. “It won’t be
that hard.”
Pooh-pooher
Pat, chair of the show? Yikes.
And
I’d given the
memorial quilt (See
“My
Kind of Postmistress”
May
7,
2017
blog.) I’d
made for Mom to
my nephew in Florida. Double yikes. I needed to sew a quilt in six or
seven months. Maybe I could manage the twin-size Mansfield Park quilt for my son’s new apartment. I bought fabrics in fall colors―the
only input he would
give―adapted
the blocks
for a man, (See
“40% Discount for Pirates” November 5, 2017 blog) and
followed directions.
Cut
by cut.
Square
by square.
At
the November meeting, Pat said, “Okay. We’re having a quilt show.
You’re all going to help.” She shook her pen at the group. “Who’s
going to be chair for the quilt we sew to raffle?”
“I
will,” Gail said before anyone else got a chance. “I’ll find
some patterns then you can choose which one to make.”
At
the next meeting, she waited for us with an eight inch high stack of
patterns and pattern books. “Look through these. Then vote for the
pattern you like best.”
Gail
slid the stack and a piece of paper to me. I set choices with catchy
designs yet easy for a group to assemble in front of me. I passed
patterns with curves or appliqué to the next person.
Linda
called from across the room, “Vote already and pass the patterns
along.”
I
looked up. “I can’t vote until I’ve seen them all. There are
twenty.”
I
needn’t have bothered to study the designs. The number of choices
diluted the votes. A falling leaf pattern, sewn entirely from two
inch squares, received the most votes―three.
Gail
selected fabrics from her store, cut them, and taught us how to make
the leaves.
Point
by point.
Leaf
by leaf.
 |
| JW's Falling Leaf Blocks for Country Charms' Raffle Quilt |
Then
she announced. “I’m going in for knee surgery. I’ve hired
people to open the shop Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. You can
work on the quilt then.”
Great.
The quilt chair wouldn’t be helping with the quilt, and the
material was so expensive we’d be lucky to break even with raffle
ticket proceeds.
But,
I sewed four leaf blocks for the guild’s quilt and assembled cross
in a cross blocks for mine.
Stitch
by stitch.
Block
by block.
Since
the huge leaf quilt required much more time than meetings allowed,
Pat organized Thursday sewing days at the shop.
With
wet hair from swimming laps, I powered my car up the rutted, snow
covered driveway, and lugged my sewing machine into the shop.
Only
Pat and Linda sewed in the back room.
“I
didn’t think you’d come,” Pat said.
“I
emailed I would,” I said, set my machine on a table, and found an
electric outlet.
“When
I came, I got stuck in the driveway.” Pat waved her arms over her
head. “I had to get Gail’s husband to dig me out. So I emailed
everyone not to come if they didn’t have four wheel drive.”
I
chuckled. “I didn’t get the email in the swimming pool, and I
drive a Subaru. I made it up fine. What can I do?”
Pat
pulled a leaf block and a row of filler blocks off the design board.
“Sew these together.”
During
an afternoon of
attaching filler blocks to leaf blocks, I asked, “Will Fox’s quit
shop
let me rent one of their
embroidery machines? I
want to make the
label for my quilt, and
hand embroidery comes
apart with time.”
Linda
looked up from the block she ripped apart. “No. You don’t have
any training.” She set her pieces down. “But I’ll embroider one
for you on my machine. Bring me the fabric and what you want the
label to say.”
Rip
by rip.
Row
by row.
At
home, I lay each fall colored fabric against the bottom left block on
the back, chose the bright yellow-gold, and ironed it for Linda. Then
I wrote, crossed out words, checked spelling, and hand printed the
label six times to space words just right and form the letters
legibly for Linda.
Mansfield
Park Quilt
Adapted
with Love
for
Spencer Charles
Janet
Wells
Milledgeville,
PA
2018
Letter
by letter.
Word
by word.
With
many thanks, I handed the paper and fabric to Linda at the next
meeting. Ten of us had come to sew.
Two
members moved fabric blocks and rows of squares on the display board
until the arrangement no longer resembled the picture of the falling
leaf pattern.
Sewers
waited in line for assignments from movers.
“Rip this seam” or “Attach these pieces.”
We
sewed and another member ironed seams.
The
hums of sewing machines mixed with laughter and the buzz of
conversations.
Pieces
stitched together.
“Oh,
my,” Pat stuck her hands on her head. “We just have to attach the
long middle seam and the top’s ready for the border.” She shook
her head. “I don’t want to do that. No one will.”
Sewing
the last seam to hold the quilt together? Sounded fun to me. “I
will.” I climbed the step stool to unpin the sections from the wall
and lugged them to my machine. I tugged to stretch fabric so corners
would meet. Then I lugged the ten foot by ten foot leaf quilt back to
the board. With two members holding the sides, I climbed up the step
stool and pinned our quilt top onto the display board. Awesome!
Move
by move.
Section
by section.
At
home, my quilt didn’t come together as fast as the guild’s.
Hunkering over the sewing machine, I tread lightly on the foot pedal
to keep stitching accurate. I missed more than once so ripped
mismatched corners, trimmed raveling threads, and sewed again. I
hooted the day I’d attached all thirty squares and eight rectangles
to form the last of twelve Four Square 2 blocks. Progress!
As
if walking on cotton batting,I whistled to the mailbox. Inside lay a plastic bag with the
yellow-gold fabric. Eager to see Linda’s embroidered label, I
opened the bag and pulled out the fabric. Rich brown thread wrote the
six lines with perfect spacing. But she spelled the first word in the
second line “Aapted.” Pain.
I
shuffled back to the house, slumped into a chair, and stared at the
fabric.
My
husband Spence looked up from his computer. “What’s wrong?”
I
handed him the label.
“It
looks nice,” he said handing the label back.
“But
she spelled ‘Adapted’ wrong! Do I dare ask her to make it again?”
Spence frowned. “No. It’s fine. The mistake proves the label was
handmade not from a factory in China. Relax.”
Mistake
by mistake.
Try
by try.
 |
| Mansfield Park Quilt Label |
Then,
on Friday the thirteenth of April, Gail’s barn burned down and set
the quilt shop ablaze.
End
of Part 1
