My girl and I have been united in the sewing room. Dusty cotton fluff flying round us, the calming hum of two working sewing machines, a radio play keeping us gripped and chamomile tea and chocolate for fuel.
We are making a patchwork quilt together …and it’s good.
Now before I go any further, I’d like to confess that I am not really that into quilting. I do love a nice patchwork, but when it comes to making them I’m a bit of a mismatched and haphazard kinda gal. Any form of planning bores me a little bit whilst the thought of clashing colours and the luck of the draw is pretty appealing. I rebel against my graphic design training – corners meeting at a precise points? No siree. Luckily, my girl feels the same way!
Right now we have got as far as raiding the fabric stash and choosing pieces with meaning and memories (mixed in with a quilting pack found in Oxfam about 5 years ago). We’ve (sort of) worked out the amount we’ll need for a single quilt (told you I was hopeless!) and started to sew the squares together, pressing as each row is finished.
This isn’t the first quilt I’ve made for my girl. When I was pregnant with her and strapped for cash, I ordered a pack of tiny sample swatches from a quilting company and used them along with some of my own scraps for a cot quilt …
I blame the wonky quilting on the enormous bump that sat between myself and the machine! The day she arrived, our hearts melted, our world changed and our love was immeasurable … I’m sure you know what I mean.
Eight more rows and we’ll have enough (I think) …
With the first quilt being for a special arrival, nineteen years on, this one is for a special and exciting (although at the moment she is terrified) departure. We have four weeks to finish this before my girl flies the nest to wing her way up north to study.
It’s not a “departure” departure, I have it on good authority that she’ll be home for Christmas … !