I've dug through the boxes a few times and thought hard about what to do with the contents since I got them and they were added to one of my perpetual to do lists. In a fit of inspiration last week I decided to stop waiting on perfection and just do it. Because wasting away in a box is no way for a quilt to make itself useful or appreciated.
I'm not her. My thread isn't the same shade blue she used and I can't sew a straight line if you were threatening to kill me. I've studied what she'd done to try to figure it out for myself. Her straight lines weren't always so straight either.
There were stacks of blue flannel and blue jeans already cut out, waiting. There was more blue flannel that needed to be cut and plenty of whole jeans that haven't met their fate.
I found this little measuring doo-hickey thing folded up in some of the material.
The flannel and jeans are sewn together with one diagonal stitch and then 17 blocks are sewn into one long strip. I still haven't figured out why 17. I have no idea how big this is going to wind up being when (not if) I finally finish it.
Stitched together in one continuous line, they made me think of sting rays swimming in a tight line through the ocean or a long, heavy kite tail dragging along.
Sewn together and separated.
Stacks of 17, waiting.
My supervisor.
