More Tidbits and Thread Snips!
Progress on French Braid Quilt:
In order to stay on schedule, I am getting up earlier in the morning and facing my machine long before the sun makes an appearance in the Eastern sky.
The only way to do this is with a strong cup of tea and by turning on every light in the studio. Drake promptly curls up under the sewing table and goes back to sleep, wondering, I’m sure, why on Earth we are even out of bed to begin with! He’s not a bit of help but great company.
I am very close to having all the logs on the three center sections quilted. Only 12 more teal logs and 24 blue logs – each with two lines of stitching down each, but some of them are 4” and some are 8”. Either way, I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Once I get the logs all quilted, I can move on to assembling the three sections into the center of the quilt.
Sharing a Friend’s Good Fortune:
I have a friend who did a dumb thing. Friends shouldn’t let friends do dumb things. She sold a loom. She sold a really nice loom earlier this year and regretted her action ever since.
She got very, very lucky in the end, because the Weaving Goddess smiled down on her and she found the Loom of Her Dreams, within her budget! Her new loom traveled from North Carolina, through wretched weather to Kentucky for the hand off and eventually home to Illinois. Some elbow grease, Murphy’s oil soap and perseverance has paid off – big time. I am thrilled she has a new addition to her studio.
And she has promised to never, ever, ever again sell a loom she loves. That way I won’t have to drive down there and beat her! I’m making her add sewing machines to that same promise. Or else, I’ll just have to buy any sewing machines from her until she comes to her senses.
And I’ll make her bake me a cherry pie from scratch before I sell it back to her. Bwha-ha-ha!
Someone is starting to feel better:
The meds are doing the trick, along with some jarred baby food and lots of Daddy’s attention.
The hard part now is we still have 2 more days of pills to get down his throat. He’s not thrilled with that process. Neither are we and I have a Band-Aid on my thumb to prove it.