So as I served up the bibimbap with bolgigi the other day, placing the bowl on the impossibly old placemats, I thought: it’s time for new placemats. When I went out looking, they either had newer versions of my impossibly old placemats, or versions that looked like they’d been made with fabric from France.
Hey! I have fabric from France. Like from about 20 years ago.
Yes, it is also impossibly old, but it should do. So in the late afternoon sun (important for a plot twist later on) I folded down this fabric that was made for napkins, attempting to herd it into in a size like the impossibly old placemats.
I glued down the fold, stitched it, backed it with some batting and more impossibly old fabric, turned it inside out, poked out the corners and stitched the opening closed. I went on an adventure with quilting, moving from WhatWasIThinking to ILikeThisPrettyWell.
Then as I was finishing up today, I noticed that hmmmm. The fabric is darker on one edge — or faded on the other (however you want to think about it). I guess laying out that fabric in the late afternoon sun on the first day complicated my laser-like color vision. (lol)
Four placemats finished.
And when I went to make the napkin, yep. I can really see the fade. I used this tutorial.
I have more unfaded sections to make into napkins…and some faded sections, too.
Remember this quote from a couple of posts back? I may have this etched in my brain, because it applies to this, too:
This was my 2021-22 year-long making of pillows to go on the bed, shown from January (upper left, snowflake) to November (middle bottom row, lilies). I kept thinking I needed to get December’s made. But that idea — that some things end because we are finished with them — rang in my head. I’ve made a new Christmas Quilt for the bed, and don’t know if my idea will “go” with it, plus Evergreen, EverLife has a lot going on. It probably doesn’t need a pillow. So I’m finished with this. Pillows-of-the-Month are done.
Lastly, thank you for your observations and responses on my last post, Age of Subtraction. A lot of what you wrote has reverberated out into my life, into conversations with my family, and given me a lot of think about. I appreciate your taking the time to write and be a part of this conversation.