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The one thing I have been able to do is hand-quilt. As I sit here, secluded away in the living room waiting for the next builder's question about tiling or toilet placement, I quilt. I quilt wonky lines that don't meet up with seams and think about when I might be able to go to the toilet without having to ask permission.
Quilting was slow to start. I attempted to do three stitches at a time. Rocking the needle between the layers ever so carefully for the needle to get stuck as I tried to pull it through. Pruin wasn't helping either.
The bigger I get, the harder it is to get a good look at what I'm doing. Most of the time I am quilting from a distance, which may account for some of the wonky lines.
Eventually, after roughing up my fingers a bit too much and causing a lot of unwanted puckering, I let myself quilt one stitch at a time. And suddenly I was moving faster and then, just as suddenly, done.
As I finished, I wondered if maybe I should have gone with an argyle pattern instead of trying to follow the triangles that already didn't meet up. I kicked myself for still not learning my ironing lesson from months ago. Although, to be fair to myself on that one, the ironing board is currently covered with a fine layer of brick dust and there really isn't anywhere to set it up right now.
Regardless, it is done and ready to be squared up and binded. This little piece has gone much faster than I am comfortable with for some reason. I could have had it done in a few days, really, but I've been drawing it out. Still not sure why.
But again, it will sit for a bit until I figure out what to do about the binding. I broke my rule and bought some fabric from the local sewing shop with the idea of having the owner give me a bit of a tutorial on binding. I figure the passing on of skill equalizes out the purchase of new material. Who knows, maybe I will have something to offer her as well.
Taking your time now is a good thing. It's a time of contemplation. Soon there will be less.
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