Entwined in Memory
|Photo by my husband Ken Woroner.|
My First Patch
|Drawing and cutting.|
As I started to put together my first quilt patch (or are they called blocks?), like my mother, I was stressed about my level of perfection and ability, especially as I have never done this before. I started with some research, looking at a lot of quilting blogs and websites. Then I did a little doodling from some of what I saw. As a production designer, drawing is second nature, so it seemed like a good place to start.
|My first quilt patch ever.|
The patch is less than perfect but it’s a start.
A Few Things Learned...
- Do NOT use kitchen scissors normally used for cutting up whole chickens on fabric.
- The iron, despite what you may feel about ironing, is your FRIEND. Keep it close and at the ready.
- Fusible interfacing is stiff and hard to sew, use it only on larger pieces of t-shirt fabric. Small strips don’t really need it.
- Cranky and unused sewing machines, like us all, need a little oil massaged into their workings.
- Spend lots of time with patterns, colour and colour choices, different bits of fabric thrown on different t-shirts or remnants... for no other reason than it is fun. And fun is good.
When I first heard that I had to be off my broken (but fixed) foot for 3 months, I thought I would never make it. Today I am halfway there at six weeks post surgery. Funny how you can get used to anything. I go up the stairs (in our 3 story house) on my knees and I wheel about the kitchen, like a demon, on a rolling office chair that I borrowed from work. I don’t even know how I managed to go to work with this injury but for the grace of an excellent and sympathetic crew, and I am relieved to be finished my contract.
|Our left feet. Woof.|
Finally, I had been suffering tremendous remorse and guilt at not being able to walk our old dog. And, then, a few days ago, he managed to get a large, nasty, deep cut to his paw while chasing critters. Stitches and must stay off it as much as possible and ridiculous vet bills, the dog sleeps near me under foot (or crutch). Both of us with our broken left paws humbly waiting to heal. At least I have medicare.