The only place I have to hang quilts to photograph them is on a wall in my sewing room, and I have hooks placed there for the purpose, but this quilt was just a bit too big and draped across the floor at the bottom. I really wanted a good, well-lit shot of the whole thing, so I scouted around outside for a likely place. I found an area of our fence that was tall enough to hold an 80x80 quilt and so I grabbed some 3M hooks and mounted them and waited for the next sunny day.
I wish I could describe to you the comic scene that took place as I attempted to hang a quilt on a tall fence, in the wind, standing on a small step ladder on uneven, muddy ground. Lets just say that when the one leg of the ladder suddenly sank about six inches into the ground, sending me flying into some rather prickly bushes, I managed - quite heroically - to not say anything vulgar. One never knows if the neighbors are watching.
This was my first quilt on point. I've been wanting to do one for some time, but just hadn't yet worked up the courage. It was probably all those damn Modern Quilters being all discouraging and whatnot. But the instructions for how to cut and sew the setting triangles were pretty straightforward so I jumped in.
Question: shouldn't the setting triangles have an overlap of at least a quarter-inch at the edges? So that when you add a border or sew on the binding you still have points? Or am I living in some sort of fantasy world? That is not unlikely, as I am still reading those damn J.D. Robb books, and they may have unleashed some sort of virus into my brain.
I will, of course, put the quilt top away now and will probably not quilt it until someone puts a weapon to my head or threatens to take away my J.D. Robb books. ("Please, no! Just leave me the one where Eve and Roarke fight all the time and have great makeup sex and Eve has bad dreams and...okay, just leave one. Your pick.")
But now I need color. So I am going to attempt to make this:
Yes, I am serious, and no, I don't know what the hell's gotten into me. But if I lose a digit or my sanity while attempting this, I am suing Nora Roberts for every damn cent she's got, since it's most likely her fault. Those books are so bloody fun and so bloody awful at the same time, they are now going to be my excuse for EVERYTHING. What's that smell? IT'S THOSE GODDAMN J.D. ROBB BOOKS.
On a final note, an old friend of mine from college has gone missing in New Orleans. He was last seen on Tuesday. He has a young daughter and a lot of friends who are very worried and scared. If you have any inclinations toward prayer or any other method of asking the infinite for assistance, I'd be grateful if you sent one up for Jim Dugan. Thank you.