For the last several days, I have been working my ass off to finish the Ikea quilt in time for its recipient's second birthday party, which was this evening. This would be the first quilt I have done completely from start to finish.
On Monday, I taped the backing to the floor, spread out the batting and laid the quilt top over that, pinning it all together with about 7 million safety pins. It was hard work, but worth it because it was a gift for a friend's child.
The rest of the week, I stitched in the ditch, the first time I have ever tried to quilt anything. I had a hell of a time with the thread tension, an issue which is still not totally resolved, and my lines aren't exactly always in the ditch. Wrestling the quilt through the machine and rolling and unrolling it over and over was a lot of hard work, but it was worth it because it was a gift for a friend's child.
The only part I couldn't finish was the binding. I trimmed the quilt and wrapped it up and brought it to the party. My friend helped her child open it, pulled the folded quilt out of the bag, never unfolded it to see the business side, so only saw the backing, put it back in the bag and never said another word about it. She had more to say about a toy cash register another person gave her daughter than about a handmade quilt.
I am so sad right now, I cannot even tell you. I put so much into that quilt, so much labor and so much love. And now, it sits here, waiting to be bound and I feel like I may just not even bother.
Have you ever made someone a quilt, only to wish later that you hadn't?
