Last night I commented that I wouldn't really know how the slanted corners fit until I finished the quilt. I decided that was foolish. Laying the finished part of the quilt on our bed, I pinned the panel for the foot of the bed onto the main part of the quilt. The corners were TOO SHORT!!! Was I ever glad I checked!
This morning I found out that sitting quietly in the morning light by an east window, carefully picking out seams can be a contentment inducing activity. But first you have to let go of any ambitions to "get that quilt finished!"
The fix involved picking out the seams that held four blocks on each end of the finished panel, making eight new blocks, four for each end, and then sewing six of the eight that had been removed back onto the new ends. I spent 5 1/2 hours working on it today. Just one seam remains to be completed.
Of course, as soon as you spread a quilt on the floor the cat comes to investigate and invariably lies down on the quilt. Unless, that is, his smooshed up ball of yarn is lying nearby. That's too much of an invitation to knead that soft mess of yarn, much the same way that kittens knead their mother's belly to get her to let her milk down.
This little mess of black yarn has been Dickens' "mommy ball" for two years. He always finds contentment in a little cuddle with his own yarn ball.
This morning I found out that sitting quietly in the morning light by an east window, carefully picking out seams can be a contentment inducing activity. But first you have to let go of any ambitions to "get that quilt finished!"
The fix involved picking out the seams that held four blocks on each end of the finished panel, making eight new blocks, four for each end, and then sewing six of the eight that had been removed back onto the new ends. I spent 5 1/2 hours working on it today. Just one seam remains to be completed.
Of course, as soon as you spread a quilt on the floor the cat comes to investigate and invariably lies down on the quilt. Unless, that is, his smooshed up ball of yarn is lying nearby. That's too much of an invitation to knead that soft mess of yarn, much the same way that kittens knead their mother's belly to get her to let her milk down.
This little mess of black yarn has been Dickens' "mommy ball" for two years. He always finds contentment in a little cuddle with his own yarn ball.
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