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Wednesday, March 25, 2009

In reality I am my mother's daughter



Can't remember what post I saw it on, but someone suggested posting pictures of your quilt room on Monday. Of course, here it is Wednesday and I'm just getting around to it ... AND seeing that I haven't posted since the NY trip.

Took these pictures last fall. You can tell it was awhile ago because the windows are open, and the room was fairly clean, and I cleverly cropped the worst of the mess out of the pix. (You can't really see the floor, can you? The room has windows or doors and odd bumped out areas on every wall. (It's the style of the whole house, actually.)

This room seems to have been a former dining room. Off the kitchen and with an L-shaped cupboard of shelves where my stash goes to hide. I have to pull out stacks of fat quarters to get to the stacks behind. I'd prefer to see it all laid out one-stack deep and in open view. I had that in my Orlando quilt room, but it did result in fading of the fabric at the fold over time so I have some fat quarters with stripes down the middle.

Here's the reality:
I've become my mother.


Stacks of crap abound! Something must be done. It's one thing to have her hands, it's another to have her piles of paper everywhere.

So, I moved the recipes-to-be-organized, scrapbook-to-be-put-together, and photos-that-should-be-in-albums into neat stacks on the dining room table where hubby won't let them stay for long, and I'll be more inclined to organize them. I hope.

The applique blocks are from Barbara Brackman's "Prairie Flower" book. I had three done and one prepped before hitting my early 40s. I've got bifocal glasses and bifocal contacts and readers from the drugstore and hope that I might finish the other blocks one day.