Yes, gentle quilters, this post has it all! I will ride the drama llama around the blog for all to see! Actually it’s not anywhere near that exciting. I’m just phenomenally irritated with myself for composing a pleasant blog post while I was eating lunch and then promptly losing it in the magical ether of the Internet. Honestly, WordPress is fairly easy for me to use, but I got distracted, and that was that.
Did you see the pretty Blooming Quilters button? The 2017 New Quilt Bloggers were divided into three hives, and we got to name ourselves and make a button for our hive. (My pronoun usage is a little broad there because while I’m definitely participating in the 2017 New Quilt Bloggers, I’ve been too overwhelmed by real life lately to participate the way I want to, so in this instance we means the clever hive members who actually did their part while I fiddled with HazMat at the office.) We’ll be having a blog hop over the next few weeks, and I’ll post all the info as we go because I’m really delighted and honored to be a part of this. Quilting Jetgirl is so encouraging and helpful, and our whole tribe is made up of some very creative people. I’m not a designer (yet), so seeing some of the creativity in this crowd leaves me in wonder.
I’m really enjoying the Long Time Gone Sewalong! I knew it would stretch my organizational skills by trying to get blocks done in time, but I can’t tell you how fun these blocks are. Each one would make a stunning mini quilt all by itself. I’m really excited to see mine all finished.
I was contemplating joining the #100days100blocks2017 sewalong. I was really intrigued seeing the work others did last year on Instagram, and I’ve already got the book. I don’t think I can do that much pressure-quilting, though. I need to dictate some of my own work or it will become too work-ish, I fear. I have so much fabric, and a scrappy version would be a nice challenge, though. We’ll see.
The decision to buy a longarm (or not) is currently driving me slightly batty. I want one! So much! But I have my two underemployed adult children living with me. They contribute, but things can get tighter than I like. Yet I want to buy myself a Handi Quilter Simply Sixteen with the Little Foot Frame. I’m trying to rationalize it because I want to learn the free motion quilting skills that can only come from quilting on a longarm. Yes, sitdown versions can be less spendy, and it’s always possible to quilt on my wonderful Juki, but with rheumatoid arthritis, it’s painful to cram a quilt through a small machine. I love doodling, have taken every possible Zentangle class offered locally, and happen to think I might really develop a knack for it. I could develop a business, right? And the smallest, least expensive version is the most financially practical, but would still offer me the ability to develop the muscle memory and skill in preparation for the day I trade up to a larger machine, right? Oh, but it’s still expensive. Not really in the budget. Selfish, too, when one child doesn’t really have a car that runs well enough to get far. But if I develop a business slowly, it could help support me when I retire in another (maybe never) 10 to 15 years. If my RA doesn’t crash in and I wind up on disability sooner rather than later. I should just shut up and use my fabric up, make tops until I run out, and THEN buy a longarm. Help me, quiltish friends, you’re my only hope! Got any advice?
In other news, that adorable little guy turns 21 tomorrow, and is no longer little. He’s my youngest. I’m so proud of him. His sister, too. I have great kids. I’m a bit misty about this, but so damned proud! He sure doesn’t smell like a baby anymore! He’s a smelly young man who smells of too much Axe deodorant and a little yard work. He’s incredibly smart, but doesn’t have any desire to go to college, whereas his sister is still trying to pay off a master’s degree. He was just a sophomore in high school when he sat and explained the beauty of differential equations to his math-stunted mom. He was five when he took me outside on a cold February night to show me the Big Dipper, as though he’d discovered it himself. Happy birthday, Blake.