Sleeping Around

Here are my batik blocks from the Carpenter’s Star pattern, arranged on top of my bed. This was a few months ago. I finally got around to sewing it together and finished piecing the quilt top yesterday. I sewed the half-square triangle blocks at Shelly’s house in May. She sewed her quilt top in June; I’m a little behind schedule, to state the obvious.

Quilt top blocks for the Carpenter's Star pattern, arranged on top of my bed

Carpenter’s Star, arranged


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

I was so reluctant to remove the arranged quilt blocks from my bed. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to having a quilt for myself. I considered options that would let me leave the blocks on my bed until I was ready to sew them.

My dog Moe, sleeping on the couch with her feet sticking up

Moe, queen of the couch

First I thought about sleeping on the couch. I walked into the living room towards the couch and sat down, gingerly. It’s not really my couch anymore, you see. It belongs to Moe, my 13-year old dog. That’s where she sleeps, on top of a sheet. If I had any chance of sharing the couch with her, I was going to have to get her to move over. I gently prodded her shoulder. She opened one eye. I tugged at her feet. She yawned and stretched out. I tickled her behind her ears. Finally! She got up, looked at me and plopped right back down in the middle of the couch. She was snoring within seconds.

Then I called around to some friends to see if they had room for me to sleep at their house.

My Plan B friend’s dog was nursing puppies and wasn’t taking kindly to visitors. (I was glad to stay clear of that situation.) Plan C friend had been auditioning fabrics for days all over the house using the morning and afternoon light through all the windows and was on the verge of the perfect fabric combination for her next quilt. If she moved anything around, she’d have to start all over. I understood – believe me – and moved on to my next sleep over possibility.

Plans D, E, and F: One had boxes and boxes of knitting yarn stacked everywhere as a favor for her friend, a knitting-shop owner. Maybe I could sleep at Plan E’s house? Well, she had a bevy of new oil paintings drying all over her house, couch and bed included, for an upcoming art show. Plan F already had overnight guests who had travelled to town for the quilt shop hop that weekend.

I returned to my bedroom and looked at my beautiful batik blocks, all in perfect rows. I sighed deeply, picked up my pillow and a blanket and took my place on the floor at the foot at the bed. Obviously I need more pet-free friends who aren’t artistic. And a sleeping bag from Santa.

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