What have I done?
The cutting table is gone, the mat along with it. They were my identity. Who am I now?
Too late I understand how my husband Dave felt selling his compressor. It was part of his identity. A valuable tool in his remodeling business.
All sold.
Time moves on and things have a way of changing. My cutting table held many a vision of quilts I would make. Most of which never came to be. Like a child standing before a smorgasbord of tempting food, everything looked appetizing. Only my stomach could not hold all that I piled on my food tray.
Likewise, my fabric stash held tantalizing visions of potential quilts—like sugar plums dancing in my head. But my cutting table was unable to make my workmanship satisfactory. Dave liked my work—except he never saw a quality quilt. What did he know? He was just a staunch encourager to my efforts.
At least Dave’s compressor provided a living. Quilting only provided me with a calm frustration.
We see Phase two coming. The quilt room will no longer be just that. The sewing machine remains, but will be accompanied with a massive bookshelf. It’s gonna be great! The walls are painted, soon new flooring will be laid.
It has been a project of mixed feelings. Never have we ripped out a perfectly good wall-to-wall carpet. The most damage it had ever seen was loose threads. Disposing of it was a conundrum. Our best means of removal was to give it away. Done. It blessed the receiver and gave us the space we needed to continue with the transition.
But I had this brainstorm of an idea that you could help me with. We are the proud owners of Dave’s dads high school letter. L. Because the quilt room will be more than that soon, I hope to frame that L and give the room a new name. But it has to begin with L.
Suggestions please.
One Day Wonders with JBK 