I finished this quilt (after six or seven years!) a few weeks back. Indeed it has been gracing our bed ever since. But there’d not been just the right amount of time or sun to take it outside for showing. Until this afternoon. After another morning of dreadful grey (honestly, every cold front produced in the Antarctic this year has been sliding slowly over Melbourne for the last couple of weeks), this afternoon finally broke sunny and golden – for longer than 15 minutes. Yipee!
I threw the quilt in the wash – ahem, there was a slight problem with some felt pen lines that were drawn on six or seven years ago and you’ll be pleased to know that when Crayola say their felt pen will wash out of your children’s clothes effortlessly, they mean it (for the curious, just a lid full of Martha Gardiner’s Wool Wash and a delicate wash cycle on cold) …
… and hung it out before collecting Abby from school. Lo! The sun was still there when we returned, and so, with my cross stitch supplies gathered, a steamy cup of tea and shawl tucked under my arm (the wind is still biting), a grass nibbling rabbit by my side, and the sweetest pair of chooks at my feet I made the most of this afternoon sun. Such bliss!
It’s quilted in my favourite scribbly wibbly manner. I just adore the texture this brings – and with all that vivid green and those rich, sumptuous florals, it truly looks as if it is alive and growing. I expect it to feel mossy when I run my hand across it. For there to be the sweet fragrance of blooms when I press my face into it.
For me, this is what quilting is about. Colour. Lots and lots and lots of colour. I love my quilts to be heavy with colour, warm and bursting, full of energy. I love the intensity of everything jumbled in together – almost chaotic.
Oh and there’s an Amish moment with this quilt – can you see it? Bottom row, in the middle? I noticed it when I’d just finished the quilting and spread the quilt out on my bed to admire it. Huh! Pride does come before a fall. ONE OF THE HOURGLASSES IS SIDEWAYS! Unbelievable.
Eventually the sun drew its rays in, the shadows grew so much longer and colder, even the chooks forsook me – they were busy watching chook television, that is, watching Miss Hinchfliffe (who didn’t want to cut the grass this afternoon) dart back and forth around her enclosure. They were so funny – their little chooky heads flicking from side to side with surprise and fascination as Hinchy zoomed around.
Just in time, the quilt was dry, ready to bring in and put back on the bed. ‘Cause it may look like spring around here, but it sure doesn’t feel like it! And after six or seven years of lazing about in baskets, it’s surely time this quilt was put to work.