Thursday, February 01, 2007
The Dust Gatherer
Sidekick: You're never gonna finish Quiltie.
Me: What are you talking about?
Sidekick: You haven't even touched Quiltie in months.
Me: I've been finishing Christmas presents.
Sidekick: Yeah. Ok.
Me: What! It's February! I have to finish my Christmas presents.
Sidekick: Poor Quiltie.
Me: Dude. Christmas. Do you know it? It's in December.
Sidekick: Poor, poor Quiltie.
Me: (resigned) Yes, honey. Poor Quiltie.
I begrudgingly admit I may've mismanaged the Los Angeles cold snap, not grabbing big ole Quiltie, the queen-sized quilt, and working on it while the weather was right for it. My Sidekick is absolutely right.
There are some perfectly good reasons for this, and I'd like to start with the main one. But to be most effective, this will require some participation on your part. Is that OK? Ok. Do me a favor. Snap your fingers. Just one snap is fine. How long was that noise you made? Really? Well, that was how long it was cold in LA. Cold. SNAP. I don't care what anyone else tells you. That's why they call it a "snap".
Second, and also within reason, I've been finishing all those delicious Christmas gifts, including the belle of the ball -- the heating pad cover.
All six velcro pieces and the little label have been sewn on, and it's off to my beloved SIL tomorrow. I decided to leave the applique adventure for another time. With all your tips and encouragement, this will likely be sooner rather than later. Thank you to everyone who chimed in to help with the decision-making and support!
Also, at my mom's work, "climate control" apparently means "make it bone-chillingly cold." So, once the second Fetching mitt has a thumb, the pair will be off to her straight away. (If only my mom were making a queen-sized quilt! Curses!)
Still to complete: a dark grey pair of socks, a pair of grey socks with bullying tendencies, one lone sock to complete a pair, and that god-forsaken Star Wars hat. It'll be 80 degrees this weekend, and there'll be a football game on. Perfect for knitting all those things.
Hang in there, Quiltie. Someone needs to gather all that dust. It might as well be you, little fella.