Bees are interesting things. I’m in a new one and am still figuring out how it ticks when this block arrived in the mail. The instructions read to leave the quadrants unsewn as the bee-er wants to really make her quilt scrappy and move the blocks all around. It’s paper pieced. Seventy-two pieces per block (4 quadrants). It took me over 7 hours, closer to eight hours, to finish the two blocks. I began wondering about this quilter–who would send out such a complicated block to the bee and expect us to do not only ONE, but TWO blocks? I began wondering about what a sheep I was to follow along, when I should have just sent back the unused fabric after the first block and the scraps for the little triangles, and kept it to one. The end result was that I didn’t feel very good about her, nor about myself–for not standing up and saying “This is excessive.” I was more than happy to send that off this morning!
This is the blocks from another bee-er in the same bee. Because my first batch of fabric got lost in the mail, I was doing her September blocks in October. These blocks were already cut out, and both went together in under an hour. I’m happy to spend more than an hour on a bee block, but the contrast between this quilter’s and her bee-mates was astounding. I felt good about things as I mailed off her blocks this morning.
On our walk yesterday morning, we passed by the house of an older neighbor, who was downsizing and moving up to the high desert. Stuff had to go, including this funky green sewing machine. We continued on our walk, never mentioning it, but on the return loop, I said to my husband, “Want to go and get the car . . . and your wallet?” He laughed. When he came back there were two machines waiting for him to load into the car (I didn’t take a photo of the other), but I got both for $55, including the matching cabinet that the father-in-law had made for this green machine.
I took them right up to my Sewing Machine Whisperer, and he said they were worth tuning up, so into the shop they went. “You know, you have no foot pedal,” he said, gesturing to the green machine. In my defense, it was early in the morning, so when I went back, the older neighbor went up into her sewing room, but couldn’t find it. I left my name and phone number, and hopefully it will turn up. I’ll get these two older machine back in a few weeks; I plan to give one to my granddaughter, who wants to learn to sew.
Today I plan to sew my brains out. And NOT on complicated funk-inducing, grumpy-generating bee blocks.