First, congratulations to Beth Baird, on winning the Practical Bag Pattern with this comment:
“I would totally love this kind of a bag. Our grocery stores no longer give us plastic bags, so this would be perfect for replacing those. And when we travel, it would fold up in the bottom of the suitcase or carry-on to bring home fabric from a shopping spree!”
I’ll get that in the mail to you today!
Thought I’d show you some of the ancient projects that didn’t make the cut into the Finish-A-Long group.
This was a quilt done during our Millenium Year–you know 2000, when all the computers were going to quit and the world was going to end. I have some a snippet of fabric that says “2000” on it. I pulled out all my old projects and had my husband help me evaluate them. He kind of shook his head and said, “Yeah, I’m not quite sure if this is worth your time to finish.” Agreed, but this doesn’t get the Razzy Award.
This gets the Razzy Award. Note the outdated colors of burgundy and forest green, the precious pre-printed Currier and Ives-type panels combined with Santa Claus motif fabric. I never even listed it on my 100 Quilts list (the other one is). I mean, at the time, I thought it was “all that” as one of my friends says when referring to someone who convinced they are God’s Gift to Mankind, but we all know that all things pass away, even a passion for burgundy and forest green.
I am working today on a more updated color scheme, trying to figure out the quilting for my Christmas Lollypop Tree Wallhanging. I seem to get at stuck spots too often on new projects, as if making a decision has to be practically perfect in every way (thank you, Mary Poppins). It doesn’t, I keep telling myself. One of the quotes I have on my syllabus is “The perfect is the enemy of the good.” Sometimes I think it should go: “The perfect is the enemy of the done.”
And I’m listening non-stop to the news about the Boston Marathon bombers, probably just like the rest of you. I’m glad at times like this to have the cloth under my fingers, keeping my hands busy while I still think about the sad events of this past week. Take care of yourselves!
My daughter’s hand. Thanks, Barbara.