I'm Going To Get Stabbed With a Knitting Needle

It Has Begun. I knew it would happen, I reported on this prediction a couple of months ago. Quilt. I want to straight up admit that I have some weirdly negative connotations with that word, which is a load of boggle, because my grandma used to make me quilts. And I have seen quilts (usually modern) that are beautiful.

They require a lot of skillz (which I do not have) and I respect quiltmakers- I do! I have just always associated quilting with a type of standard issue stay-at-home old school kind of craftsperson with usually a limited view of possibility beyond badly matched calico fat quarters. I know it's wrong okay, so back it up, Crazycrafter13@aol.com. I'm just trying to be honest. As penance, I will right at this moment go and find three quilts I admire, and post them here as evidence that I can be rehabilitated from my snobbish, artly ways. (I will then make a snobbishly artful quilt as my predictable relapse.)

See here the bounty of scraps that are wending their way from being sweatshirts, trimmed down into tunics, trimmed down into baby bibs, trimmed down into baby cravats, trimmed down into these most succulent leftovers.






I am sorry already for the terrible mess I plan to make over the next couple of months. Julie, you are a saint.