2 YEARS in the making

When I was pregnant with Miss Boo, I wanted to make me a quilt for the new babe. Back then, I had not been sewing for very long, and had not yet become acquainted with the sewing machine, actually, it is debatable if we are yet good friends.
I bought some scrumptious Lecien fabric with matching polka dot cotton, and looked at it for a while, stroked it lovingly and after much deliberation, realised that if Miss Boo was going to have a quilt before she left home, let alone before she arrived, then I probably needed to get someone else to make it.

In steps the lovely Miss Katy, she was my first and only choice, because not only is she a marvellous quilter with an eye for colour, but she is also charming and her dead pan Yorkshire humour always tickles my funny bone.
Anyway, Miss Katy did make the most lovely quilt for Boo, and it still sits atop her bed today, she snuggles it every night. It is a most perfect and prettyfull quilt. Miss Katy really is a super sweet treat.





Almost as soon as said quilt arrived in my posession, I set about making something for Katy. A stitch here, a stitch there, on it went, and on and on and on.
I have asked Katy for her address twice, in very bad form I have even promised to post said treat, alas, it has sat, rather lonesome, waiting to be completed, for over two years.

Today was a dark day. Sometimes I wake up and it is like someone has drawn a veil over me. I feel heavy, sad, fuzzy headed and often quite tearful. Today was one of those days, though I am thankful the good days are becoming more frequent and the dark days less so. Despite my inner darkness, outside was to be the first sunny, blue skied day I have seen in weeks, the whole house lit up under the soft glow of the low winter sun, and when I finally dragged my sorry ass downstairs, I noticed a pop of colour atop the dresser. There, twinkling in the sunlight, vibrant against the sunlit white background, was Miss Katy's treat.

It is difficult to sew when I am having a bad day, inability to focus or concentrate is a common symptom of PND. I can sometimes manage the sewing machine, but hand stitching becomes very laborious. Even so, I realised, right there in my dining room, admiring the colour and sparkle of this project I had started so long ago for Katy, that really, it could not wait one more minute. It represented, to me at least, a huge personal failing and indeed a failure to show grattude to a very sweet friend, and one failure I could not live with, one I felt I must address with immediate effect.

I gathered my tools about me, my beads and trinkets, scraps and a wee stick from the garden, and slowly, oh so slowly, I stitched.
As I stitched, I thought about the kindness Miss Katy had shown me in making a lovely quilt for Boo, the patience she has shown in waiting so long for a promised gift which never arrived, and she never complained and never asked, and really she ought to have the most lovely gift, and the more I thought about it the more I stitched, the more I embellished, until it was just so.

I even managed to catch some of the remaining afternoon sun in the garden, so that I could take a few photos of Miss Katy's gift. Once it was all done, I felt lighter and not quite as low, and pleased that Miss Katy will wait no more. I will post photos another time, as I would really like it to remain a surprise for it's intended recipient.

Thank you Katy, again, for the lovely quilt, and thank you also for unwittingly lifting me out of the fug today. It is true, I am getting better, slowly, surely, one stitch at a time.