Five chapters and a quilt top

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Ta da, an autumnal/Halloween themed quilt top!

Since Saturday, minus Sunday, I have been splitting my waking hours mostly between one quilt and the new novel. A little laundry muscled its way into the fray, but now something is wrong with the washer, so.... That leaves more time to write and sew, lol. And write and sew I have!

We have guests arriving tomorrow, thusly I wanted to finish the quilt so they wouldn't worry about loose squares on the design wall, which resides in the guest room, sigh. But it was a great reason to machine-stitch all seventeen rows across and down, and I'll make the backing for it next week. I was so into sewing the squares, then pressing various lengths of rows, then nesting seams, sewing those rows, aligning them correctly, then more sewing, more pressing.... I like mixing eight-inch squares amid the four-inch squares, sewing two rows at a time, which might or might not make the whole thing come together more quickly, but it feels advantageous to plop two finished rows on the wall, then start two more. Other than the first row, those subsequent have some part of an eight-inch square within them. I don't get overly ambitious, but keep the larger squares in the same two rows. I love sewing, but not complications.

As for the novel.... Not since writing The Hawk have I felt so liberated, unfettered, dude! It's hard to explain, in that I'm still using two hands and the same brain, albeit it slightly aged, yet this process feels so altered, I've been writing in my pajamas even. If that's TMI, I do apologize, but this is how much I yearn to tell this story, I can't even be bothered to dress for the day.

Today I realized a bit of foreshadowing, wholly unplanned previously, which only enhances my joy, and the sense of when I don't overthink a story, it knits itself together in beautiful manners beyond my level of imagination. Last fall I plotted out an idea within an inch of its life, tried writing it for National Novel Writing Month and what a spectacular fail that ended up, bleh. Yeah, I'm inventing aliens like they're going outta style, but pantsing a book is often the best way for the Spirit to move my muse into high gear.

Sometimes quilts are made on the fly, but only in the realm of digging through scraps. Funny how that works, one pastime considered quite literary able to thrive on minimal prep while another truly lives up to its potential with a modicum of consideration. And now after a few BUSY days, I'll not write (although depending on how late guests sleep I might read through what emerged this week), nor shall I sit at my sewing machine (but I will definitely park my behind on the sofa and stitch some EPP while my friend knits). Instead I'll do other things, lol. And until the washer is sorted, laundry won't be one of those tasks.

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