The kindness of strangers

I told you all a few days ago that I had another story to tell you about a kind reader, and now that the project she helped me with is finished, I can give you pictures and tell you the whole thing. Well, almost the whole thing, as there is a bit of the story yet to come...but I digress.

But first, let me get his bit o' business out of the way: IF I AM MAKING YOUR BABY A QUILT AND YOU DO NOT WANT TO HAVE THE SURPRISE SPOILED, STOP READING NOW.

In fact, just to be on the safe side, here's a couple buffer pictures of my kids:

Okay, I think it's safe now.

Back when I completed this quilt top,

I lamented that I would probably have to quilt it myself, since I am unemployed and very, very broke. A reader commented on that post that if I had enough money for postage, she would be happy to quilt it for me. I responded, are you shittin' me? And she said nope, not only am I not shittin' ya, I'll throw in the batting and the backing. 

So as part of my personal campaign to let people be nice to me, I said okay.  I gave her carte blanche to do whatever she wanted, and to take as long as she wanted to finish. She told me to stop thanking her. I had difficulty with that. You'll see why.

She only had my quilt for a couple weeks before she finished it. She turned it into something extraordinary. I still get breathless looking at it.

She used fabric from the same line for the backing and gave me the leftovers, which I used to make the binding. 

And I made my very first label, which I appliqued fairly well, if I do say so myself.

I know she doesn't want me to thank her anymore, but I will say that if you are looking for an extremely talented longarmer for your quilts, please consider Lisa Marie. She blogs over at That Crazy Quilty Girl, she has pink hair (jealous!) and she has mad skills. If you want to inquire about her services, you can email her at lmms1981 at gmail dot com. Please tell her that I sent you. But don't tell her I said thank you; she might throw something at me.

Once again, because of this crazy piece of work I blather on semi-regularly, somebody stepped up and did something unbelievably kind and generous for me. So, when I give this quilt to little Iona, I hope that I will be able to adequately tell her mother how much love went into the making of it, and how much it means to me that her baby will be wrapped in a quilt that was not made by my hands alone. Because I have discovered that quilting, even in the age of the internet, is as much a group effort as it ever was, and our quilts connect us to each other as we share the process of making them together.