I’ve discovered something about myself.
There are many things I love that I go through life without
because of fear.
One example: Quilts.
I adore quilts.
Not just any quilts-
I love ones that are filled with colors.
I’m not big on “quilted”.
I’m just big on “pieced”
Tied quilts are fine with me
As long as there are multitudes of colors.
(Did I mention that I love colors?)
However, when I was about fifteen I found out a terrible truth
I hate quilting.
Yep. Dislike it a lot.
I love the “idea” of quilting bees but in truth…
The ones that I’ve attended, I’ve been bored out of my mind.
The problem with that is…
Buying a quilt is way out of my price-range.
Looked at the cost of them lately?
So… I went through life… without any.
Being terribly jealous of my sister-in-law
For her beautiful wedding quilt.
And then others that were given to her.
But my mother saved the day!
For Christmas one year she gave us all quilts…
Only I got the yellow one.
(My husband was ecstatic, he loves yellow)
But I love COLORS.
Then today it hit me.
I hate quilting because it is so detailed.
And details bore me.
But because I know how to quilt “right”
I wouldn’t ever think of doing it wrong.
(What would people think?
That I don’t know how to do it right?
I don’t actually need quilting lessons.)
And my fear of what other people think
(crazy, since no one ever goes into my spare bedroom
except kids under the age of 10.)
Was keeping me from enjoying the wild splashes of color that I love.
My spare bed
(my bed is lovingly covered with the yellow quilt, just as my husband wants)
Has been sporting an ugly blue comforter for three years now.
Today I changed that.
I was sitting in the spare room,
looked up and saw a pile of material cut into squares
(intended to be made into cloth napkins- don’t laugh, Meg!)
“Why not just sew them all together?”
So I did.
I labeled my mismatched, scrap filled, uneven and wrinkly creation:
“The Perfectionists Nightmare”
And do you want to know the truth?
I. Love. It.
I adore it.
I showed my husband and he loved it as well.
Said he’d just as soon all quilts were like it.
(It can be used and if it gets ruined, well, it was only about 4 hours work!)
And as I sat there, estimating on the size of the squares (ha ha!)
And zipping them through the sewing machine…
I laughed at myself for my fear.
This is me.
I do crazy things like make quilts that are uneven,
And don’t iron my material because I don’t own an iron,
And go hunting through my scrap bag for something to fill in the edge that wasn’t long enough
And I love every minute of it.