Things we never dream of doing

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Yesterday's block is now firmly adhered in place.

Considered as I hand-applique Lucy Boston blocks early in the morning. (Or, lol, raising chickens.)

I always wanted to write fiction. From my early teens that consideration never wavered. I proclaim that because this post is about enjoying things I hadn't previously pondered, hoped for, pined over. These things are very different.

Like quilting, lol. And of course those chicks, who conveniently posed in a makeshift group yesterday afternoon for my husband. Owning chickens was NOT on my list of Wanna Do's, let me make that perfectly clear.

Owl in the forefront, Camilla to the left behind her, the rest of the pullets poking about the grass.

But the sewing, oh my goodness! I can't fathom my life without that treat, as dear to me as crafting novels. Initially I started sewing by machine, then came English paper piecing, and now Kawandi-inspired projects. Like treasure from heaven are these methods of fashioning various items, and now so intrinsic within me, I truly wonder what will occur if the day comes that I can't stick a needle through fabric!

The quilt to raise all this hub-bub is equally spontaneous, why I scribbled the first sentence yesterday morning while appliqueing blocks onto the front of a cozy that already has a middle and back. Kawandi suits me perfectly right now, but a Lucy Boston EPP/Kawandi enterprise has emerged and I smile as I type because these blocks aren't made with fabrics deeply beloved. Wholly scrappy and somewhat meh, these prints are from my early stitching days and even as late as last summer, when I pledged myself to complete these blocks, I had no plan to actually USE them. I merely wanted them completed.

Fast forward a few months, when I discovered Kawandi. Then a few more months when the Spirit said, "Hey, make a wild quilt with these!" Wild in that the top is three hunks of solids fabric, two inexpensive and one from Kona. Handstitched together, then laid atop a recently acquired flannel flat sheet but bordered with thin strips of fave prints, hand-stitched together. Then the Lucy Boston (LB) blocks were arranged on top of that batting-included quilt sandwich, with two-inch hexagons basted in a variety of old and new fabrics act as intermediaries between the LB blocks. Pin the whole thing within an inch of its weird-quilt life (using ALL my good safety pins, then breaking into those lesser admired), then applique two, maybe three blocks, a few hexagons, then grow weary of the entire endeavor and toss it onto a bed upstairs, then the office work table once guests arrive. Then after everyone has departed, haul it back to the living room with no firm plan of when to return to appliqueing those blocks securely. Until one morning, when the mood strikes, and suddenly I'm appliqueing a block and a hexagon each morning, finding immense pleasure in said process, which I didn't do this morning but am writing about in detail as if my life depended on it.

Lol.

Because sometimes the unexpected becomes essential and meaningful beyond all expectation. Last summer when I had Covid, stitching the remaining Lucy Boston blocks was a way to keep myself busy and not contaminate more favoured projects. Then it turned into a manner to finally finish those LB blocks that had felt like millstones around my neck! And then.... It evolved into what is the oddest quilt I have ever made, hand-sewn and not super-aesthetically appealing yet charming in an old-schooly way that clamors to be loved on HARD when the temperatures drop considerably, what with that cozy flannel back and its generous size, hehehe.

21 April 2025; the Lucy Boston/Kawandi quilt is underway, covering most of a queen size bed, lol. A WHOLE LOTTA hand-sewing awaits, probably why it didn't last long downstairs until I could properly wrap my head around all that handstitching.

Which has very little to do with why we own chickens, maybe that adventure will always remain a mystery. And mysteries are good, because knowing all the whys and wherefores can strip out the marvelous breezy spirit that permeates surprises. Because sometimes surprises are WONDERFUL.

Like this strange quilt. Like owning chickens. Like so many little and large plot points that emerge in our realms for no apparent purpose other than to make us smile. The things we never dream of doing can proffer enormous satisfaction and joy; may your life be filled with that lovely gift of unpredicted bliss today! 

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