Friday, August 6, 2010
In which I go from being charmingly self-deprecating to totally full of myself.
Can I quilt, or can I quilt? Who's with me? C'mon - up top. Who's got a terrorist fist bump for my awesomeness? Hello? Hellooooo? Hey. Where are you all going?
Honestly, though, this quilt is just sailing along, and I was certain I'd be in tears by this point. The funky seams on HSTs always give my machines a fit, and make me wish I had accepted my mom's offer of her old Singer back when I started sewing. But, save for a few hiccups here and there, I've been able to anticipate the problems and take measures to prevent them. If you were to look closely, and I'd probably tackle you and drag you away by your hair before I'd ever let you do that, you'd see some not-too-precise intersections, but a lot of them are dang-near perfect, and that suits me just fine.
The worst part is the ironing (excuse me - pressing). I elected to press all my seams open, and that is just a major undertaking with a quilt this big. And of course, as I'm gently and carefully trying to open the seams and flatten them gently with my huge-ass iron, I end up messing up all the other seams around them. I finally purchased one of those wee little irons that so many people seem to love, thinking that it might solve my iron trespassing issues, but it was about as useful as glaring at the seams to make them flatten out.
Oh, and here's my submission for Parent of the Year. We had a brief power outage when I had stepped away from my machine, and when it came back on, the needle reverted to its default position, which is not remotely near the opening in my quarter-inch foot. So I blithely went back to sew, and the needle came slamming down on the foot, breaking in half, and causing all kinds of alarms and safety shut-off measures. Since I have done this very thing approximately twelve thousand times (we have a lot of power outages here), I took it in stride and didn't say anything after my little "Oh!" of surprise. So, Harper, who is never farther than three feet from me at all times these days, says, "Isn't this the point where you're supposed to say, 'Shit!'?"
Yes, honey. Yes it is.