My mother loved seeing quilts but hated quilting. She preferred to get clothes on people’s backs versus a task she considered “fru-fru” and a bit mind-numbing. My grandmother and great grandmother both enjoyed making quilts. The closest thing I have done when it comes to making a quilt before was a queen-sized endeavor for Japanese tsunami victims back in 2011:
was a pot holder-sized item when I was a teenager.
For the past five years or so, I’ve felt like I needed to make a double-wedding ring quilt for my step-Mom and Dad as a peace offering. The metaphor is pretty obvious if one takes into account that we aren’t chummy pals. Today while doing more endless family research, my main sites were over-loaded with long weekend researchers. It was time to break out the quilting stash.
That said, my process up to this point was not horrible. I bought a sewing machine.
I also cut out every piece of fabric using forms for the pieces:
It looks like a mess (and it is) but the pieces have been through four moves in the past two years, so they’re doing great, considering.
Now? Time to begin assembly. I bought a special quilting foot to allow for strange circular movements on my refurbished machine. I have a massive cone of tan quilting thread, and since it’s a weekend holiday where I decided not to go nuts over clients, I have a little time. Let the games begin!