This weekend for the first time in, maybe, ever, I don’t have any honey-dos for poor Sparks. I’m also not really up to going anywhere myself. So Sunday morning finds him happily in his workshop and me happily in my sewing room, both of us occasionally pottering into the kitchen to check the progress of the ham & beans in the crockpot. Eventually I’ll need to make cornbread to go with it, and empty and re-load the dishwasher.
But mostly I’m working on this. I started this Nicey Jane quilt top last spring when we visited my parents. It’s been finished for months, and now I’m quilting it to a piece of white polar fleece. No fuss, no muss, no batting to wrestle with and with only two layers, accurate stretching and basting is less of an issue.
All of the pretty fabric in my sewing room is quite a distraction, though. I often go in there to look at things and end up creatively overwhelmed… there are too many possibilities, and I just have to shut the door. Such is preggo-brain, toward the end.
I had intentions to make a baby dress or two yesterday, but then I thought about the (exhausting!) process of washing and drying the fabric, finding the pattern, reading the pattern, trying to follow the pattern (when I can barely follow a menu, right now), finding elastic and buttons and things, the inevitable seam ripping…
It all made me feel so tired. Pushing a quilt through the sewing machine in straight lines, though, that I can do right now. And so I am. I’m listening to Moby’s album Wait For Me while I work. It’s so perfect… so mellow, so spiritual, a little sad and so happy at the same time. It’s good music for me, right now.
And I have such a nice room for all this. Sparks put it all together… he’s good people.