Slipping back into my realm

 

I really love this Cornflower quilt.

Visitors are amazing and marvelous and so necessary. After they leave, I wander around, wondering what to do, other than laundry, lol. It takes a few days, then suddenly I'm revising books and hand-stitching quilts (and still doing some wash, ha ha) as though guests left ages ago. I don't know if I required these additional days previously, as in five or ten years ago, but I certainly do now.

Now I'm in my later fifties, ahem. Now I'm quite set in my routine until said routine is pleasantly jostled. And now, a couple of days post-beloveds, I feel my artsy feet are mostly back under me. Huh. That's interesting.

Future Me nods as if to say, "Get used to it. It's not going to get any better."

Past Me looks up from her cross-stitching and grunts, "What?"

I smirk at them both, because smirking is big in my new novel, Tia does it often as does her big sister Lucy. I smirk, then return to this post, which isn't so much about the new book, although here's another shameless plug for it. This post is about the hour or a little less I've spent this morning seated on the sofa, taking advantage of mostly good light until a few clouds flit past, stitching on my Cornflower Quilt. (With a little teaser concerning my very first quilt about which I'll blog in the near future.)

After getting a load of sheets in the washer, I hauled all my hand-sewing stuff back onto the small table near the couch; small containers of safety pins already removed from said quilt, a lint roller to de-fuzz where I'll next stitch, a box of waterproof band-aids I use as makeshift thimbles, some pens for when I write in my journal after I edit The Hawk (which I have yet to incorporate into my post-guest life). That journal and the accompanying thesauruses are still in the office, maybe I'll bring them down later today. So many pieces of me tucked aside while marvelous folks brighten my existence with their lovely presences. Now that they are back in their worlds, time to focus on mine.

While writing, or rather revising reins supreme, there's always something to sew. Hand-sewing, machine-quilting, the cutting of fabric or the ironing of it; quilt-making is a large part of my life, although for the first time in, well, a really long time I have nothing on tap to make for anyone but myself. No baby or wedding or remembrance quilts on the horizon, only loads of English paper piecing, some placemats to finish, a crossed-up nine-patch to experiment with, dude.... That in itself could be worthy of a post, but suffice to say I am very happy to merely meander with items little and large for my hubby and myself. There's a blanket for him I need to machine-quilt, but that means setting up my machine for an afternoon of back and forth under the walking foot. Mornings are better, when the light is good, to thread some needles, then tack together a most precious hand-sewn quilt that will stay in this house until someone kindly requests it for their own use.

I want to keep the Cornflower quilt, but if someone asks super-nicely, of course I'll give it away.

How, you ask? You're not alone, if you are asking, because Past Me glances up from her stitching, a quizzical look in her eyes. "You're not serious," she blurts. "That's taken you AGES to sew!"

"It's just a quilt," Future Me murmurs.

"IT'S NOT JUST A QUILT," Past Me hollers, setting aside her stitching.

"Well, if she doesn't keep it, she has a perfectly good reason to make another just like it," Future Me replies.

"But it won't be JUST LIKE IT!" Past Me bellows.

I'm not saying anything, smirking just a tiny bit as Past Me barges up to Future Me, hands firmly on hips. Then Past Me wags a finger in Future Me's face. "Look," Past Me grumbles. "That took her ages to sew, like two years or something. Okay, maybe the top came together pretty fast but...."

"But if someone admired your cross-stitching, could you actually tell them no, they couldn't have it?" Future Me says softly.

In the throes of another diatribe, Past Me pauses, then shoves her hands in her pockets. "Well, I dunno."

"You don't know, or you don't want to admit I'm right?" Future Me says flatly.

"Humph," Past Me mumbles, stalking back to her stitching. Future Me winks my way, then closes her eyes, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

I smile, hiding a smirk, aware that Past Me hasn't yet stepped on the quilting train. She's happy with cross-stitching, at least in this moment of my occasionally three-pronged life. But Future Me recalls those early days of aida cloth, DMC threads, wide needles, and Jolly Red patterns bought in the UK. Those days were twenty years ago, even before I started writing. Before writing, I was into embroidery but dreaming of when maybe, possibly, hopefully I'd write a novel. Then suddenly I did, and just as magically I brought quilting into it. EPP emerged just as organically, as though within my DNA were these crafty ventures waiting until I reached certain ages; my early thirties for cross-stitching, forty for noveling, late forties for sewing, early fifties for English paper piecing. And now I'm, um, nearing my late fifties (Jeez Louise!) finishing a truly beautiful, heirloom-like hand-sewn quilt of which I am grateful to have made, and happy to keep as long as it is meant to be mine.

(Kind of like writing books, then giving them away for free....)

Because all these creative endeavors are gifts of the spirit, not wholly of my own making even if my hands, brain, and heart do all the heavy lifting. These jewels and gems are priceless but better if they grace the lives of others. These treasures are precious to me AT THIS MOMENT IN TIME, but then a new shiny comes along and how many quilts or books can one person reasonably possess at any given moment? Better to pass them along, as I did with A Love Story, and as I've done with 90% of my quilts, and as I just might do with Cornflower if the opportunity arises.

Repair work needed on my first quilt, but I'm really giddy to have it back in my realm.

Just as I did with my first quilt, pictured above. That love story coming soon.