Description: Writing My Fingers to the Bone
I’ve been thinking about what it’s like to just walk away from our home and our stuff, with food left in the fridge and freezer, clothes in the closet, my office piles everywhere, and our lives not put away. I am wondering if we just left things when we came to earth. Did we just step away and drop down, leaving the place we lived, the things we were doing, the projects we were working on? When we die, will we go back to those places, those things, those projects? It’s an interesting thought to me that
I’ve been thinking about last week when I went to buy the binding for my Stars in the Garden quilt. I started that quilt about 25 years ago and pulled most of the fabric for it then, only finishing it this year. I bought the backing fabric after finishing the top, maybe a month or two ago. It was hard to find something that felt like the same vintage as the fabrics in the quilt. I looked at 2 fabric shops–American Quilting and Fabric Mill. I had to find something that worked.
I returned to Fabric Mill last week to find the binding fabric. After looking at every fabric in the shop, I finally noticed one that might do the job. It was the only possibility in the shop that worked. I went with it. I felt like I was at the mercy of the fabric shop selections. It was quite good, but was it perfect? Maybe not perfect. It was a fabric with a bias print, so I had to cut the binding not on the bias. Not perfect, but good.