Nanners here! It's time for my very first post of my very first week on this blog, and I have, in fact, managed to accomplish something quilty.
Here's the story:
It all started when my Big Guy broke his hat. That little doohickey on the back of a baseball cap that resizes the thing? Yeah, he broke that.
So...as it turned out, this was his VERY FAVORITE cap and it was a TRAVESTY that it broke. Enough of a travesty that he decided to fix it. Somehow.
(I didn't even know he had a favorite cap.)
Anyway, we kicked ideas around all one afternoon and finally came up with A PLAN. He dug out his needle and thread and went to work. I offered to help, but the cap was his baby, and nobody was touchin' his baby. So I watched and cheered, cause I'm positive like that. It was fun to watch my oh-so-serious, manly Marine sew, too, if I'm honest.
But a funny thing happened while I was watching. I got a tiny bit...jealous. I wanted to sew, too. Watching him reminded me of my childhood, when my great-grandmother gave me needles, thread, and cast-off fabric to make pillows. I made so many pillows that summer. She was probably just trying to get me out of her hair, but I didn't care. I could make pillows!!!
That happened approximately two hundred summers ago, and suddenly it all came flooding back - the relaxation of using the needle, the joy of creating something, even the fiddliness of threading needles and keeping track of pins. I hate pins, but suddenly, watching him stitch a simple cap, I wanted to sew.
Here's the story:
It all started when my Big Guy broke his hat. That little doohickey on the back of a baseball cap that resizes the thing? Yeah, he broke that.
(NOT THE ACTUAL CAP)
So...as it turned out, this was his VERY FAVORITE cap and it was a TRAVESTY that it broke. Enough of a travesty that he decided to fix it. Somehow.
(I didn't even know he had a favorite cap.)
Anyway, we kicked ideas around all one afternoon and finally came up with A PLAN. He dug out his needle and thread and went to work. I offered to help, but the cap was his baby, and nobody was touchin' his baby. So I watched and cheered, cause I'm positive like that. It was fun to watch my oh-so-serious, manly Marine sew, too, if I'm honest.
But a funny thing happened while I was watching. I got a tiny bit...jealous. I wanted to sew, too. Watching him reminded me of my childhood, when my great-grandmother gave me needles, thread, and cast-off fabric to make pillows. I made so many pillows that summer. She was probably just trying to get me out of her hair, but I didn't care. I could make pillows!!!
That happened approximately two hundred summers ago, and suddenly it all came flooding back - the relaxation of using the needle, the joy of creating something, even the fiddliness of threading needles and keeping track of pins. I hate pins, but suddenly, watching him stitch a simple cap, I wanted to sew.
A week later and I ended up with this:
A blanket for our little Small Fry:
(GRANDSON. NOT ACTUAL SIZE)
It was literally two yards of flannel. I sewed them together, flipped them right side out, and finished the seam. It took approximately five hundred hours. (Not really, but it felt like it. It was actually two, I think. I'm prone to exaggeration.) The seams are wonky, the edges aren't perfectly straight, but he seems to love it. I made one for Tater Tot, too, but forgot to get a picture of that one. Hers was, of course, pink.
And that is the story of how I decided to start quilting. Blame the Marine for my future crimes against fabric.
The cap, by the way, got fixed. My Big Guy may never take it off again.
Next post: My first fabric haul!!!
Next post: My first fabric haul!!!
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