Something Other Than Clothes

We are planning a comforter-tying party at church to make comforters to donate to Mennonite Central Committee. Elaine talked to Pat, who said she would make the tops if I had more 5" charm squares. Pat did that a couple of years ago and used about two-thirds of my bin of squares making half a dozen tops, so yesterday morning, I got out my Studio cutter and the 5" die and attacked the stack of leftovers. I can cut 80 squares in one pass. The bin is much fuller now and I told Pat I would bring it to church on Sunday.

I ran into town to mail some packages and drop my class samples off at the store. I also picked up a new concrete saw blade for the husband. He and the guys have been working here all week while they wait for excavation for the next foundation job to be completed. They are doing maintenance and repair on the concrete forms and equipment.

When I got back, I took out my bin of food-themed fabrics and made some quilt sandwiches. I’m feeling the need to play around on the Q20, but I want to work on some small projects before I tackle another quilt top. A lot of my foodie fabrics are remnants, so I find pieces of quilt batting and backing and Insul-Bright to pair with them. I quilt the sandwiches, then cut them into potholders:

I’ll churn these out and stack them up, and some day when I have nothing else to do, I’ll have a marathon machine-binding session. These will go into next year’s co-op sale. Potholders always sell well there.

Quilting loops and meanders is very relaxing. I forgot how relaxing it was until I did a couple of these quilt sandwiches yesterday afternoon. I do have an entire bolt of Insul-Bright, bought on a Joann Fabrics 50% off sale, so I’ll keep making potholders until I can’t stand it anymore.

It feels good to be using up supplies I’ve accumulated. That’s what they are there for. My friend, Deana, who lives in Tennessee, just got a serger. She has a nice side hustle making and selling items at craft fairs and farmer’s markets, so I am going to pack up a box of my knit fabric leftovers to send to her for making headbands and socks and other items to sell.

**************

I am over Christmas and it isn’t even here yet. For some reason, this year seems to have amplified everyone’s underlying issues and hauled them to center stage. I suppose that happens every year; perhaps I am just noticing it more this year. The past couple of weeks have been filled with clashing expectations of what people think Christmas should be, with the result that it becomes nothing resembling what it is.

I don’t know. The husband says that cracks are starting to appear. I think the cracks have been there for a while and are getting bigger. I think that people know that something is very wrong with the current state of affairs but it’s too painful to admit or acknowledge. And humans are not known for being rational creatures. I would much rather walk into a lousy situation with my eyes wide open—and so would the husband—but I suspect we are in a definite minority. We’re in the same minority that would rather work hard and make our own choices than be taken care of by a nanny state. It’s far easier for people to put their fingers in their ears and sing La-la-la-la.

My uncle recently had a miserable encounter with the health care system at a large institution that used to have an excellent reputation, now foolishly squandered. I may relate parts of that story in a future blog post just to illustrate how far we’ve sunk. What happened to him was appalling even to me, who has had my own ridiculous run-ins with the medical system in this country. Let’s just say that if a doctor ever says to me that a Google search is no substitute for a medical degree, that doctor is going to get an earful about how useless an institution full of medical degrees actually turned out to be.

At this point, the husband would ask me if it’s time for puppies and kittens. This is supposed to be a season of light and I am supposed to be reflecting that light, but I think it’s also important not to sweep things under the rug and ignore them.