‘Take up the Challenge!’ I hear you all cry. Well, I am. Sandra May has just sent me a fine parcel full of useful stuff. It is so useful that it is frightening. It is languishing next to the sewing machine, and contains all the Skillbuilders I need to learn to Machine Quilt. There, I’ve used the words. Yes, I am going to learn to Machine Quilt. And it is scaring me rigid.
There is of course, an attached saga to this tale of woe. About fifteen (yes 15) long years ago, I wavered from the line of ‘I am a cross stitcher’, and made my first quilt top. It came about in Townsville, at the Vincent Neighbourhood House Craft Group. There was a plethora of interesting, vital, challenging, knowledgeable ladies attending this venue, gathered under ceiling fans, sewing wondrous creations. I watched, and nodded, and said, ‘No, I cross stitch.’ But then, Watercolour Rails happened. Ros, of Chook Shed fame, held up a masterpiece, and announced that it was the next workshop that she, Majella and Jenny were going to teach. That was it. I was in. I toddled off with a requirements list, and filled my first shoe box with fabric. Oh, the choices! Overwhelming. Thankfully, my friend Karen who had a brilliant eye for colour, and who had been at the patchwork game for some considerable time, escorted me on the shopping trip and led me in the right direction. Suddenly I was the proud owner of a rotary cutter, ruler and cutting mat, along with the aforementioned shoe box.
I loved the whole experience – the hues, varying textures, little gold flecks in fabric, pansies, mellow tones, overdyes, tone on tones, value finding, the soothing repetitiveness of method. Oh, the list could go on forever! It was a turning point in my life! So, I duly made this wonderful top, and I even got some of my points to match. Such pride. I went on over years to make many more tops, and became very skilled at turning them into doona covers (yes, those tips are mine!) Because children and cats throw up sometimes, and covers that are removable are very handy.
Then last year after purchasing a machine that could take a walking foot (always another good excuse), I decided that I really must be able to call myself a quilter, not just an avid collector of fabric (boy have I got some shoe boxes now!!) or a quilt topper / patchworker. Professional credibility and all that. So I whacked together (with extreme care) a flannel checkerboard patterned lap quilt, and faced the quilting challenge. ‘Just stitch in the ditch’, I thought. Well, what a disaster – an unmitigated muck up. Thank Goodness I had a superior quality Clover seam ripper with an ergonomic handle! Every stitch in that thing had to come out. And it took a lot longer to unpick than it did to sew. Several weeks of hockey training and games were spent sitting looking knowledgeable, and unpicking as fast as I could go. Then I looked even more superior, and tied the quilt. A beautiful job. But I still can’t call myself a proper quilter!!
The last bit to the story is that I dug out that inspirational quilt top, the luscious watercolour rails, and decided it had to be quilted, that it deserved better than residing in a crate. I took it to my current craft group, Capital Crafters, planning to be really really brave and quilt it on the quilting machine. I quailed. I balked at the challenge. My masterfully skilled friend Cathie came to the rescue, and did a superb job (after some team unpicking as I forgot to change the bobbin thread – whoops - red on teal did not look flash). The job is done, the top has grown up into quilt at last, and I say a huge thanks to Cathie for her patience, confidence and talent.
The bottom line is; I must learn to do this myself. For my own benefit. If I don’t face this challenge once and for all, I will regret it. Skillbuilder panel 1, and Skillbuilder Companion book, here I come. Stay tuned, and keep the seam ripper sharpened for me please. Julia
There is of course, an attached saga to this tale of woe. About fifteen (yes 15) long years ago, I wavered from the line of ‘I am a cross stitcher’, and made my first quilt top. It came about in Townsville, at the Vincent Neighbourhood House Craft Group. There was a plethora of interesting, vital, challenging, knowledgeable ladies attending this venue, gathered under ceiling fans, sewing wondrous creations. I watched, and nodded, and said, ‘No, I cross stitch.’ But then, Watercolour Rails happened. Ros, of Chook Shed fame, held up a masterpiece, and announced that it was the next workshop that she, Majella and Jenny were going to teach. That was it. I was in. I toddled off with a requirements list, and filled my first shoe box with fabric. Oh, the choices! Overwhelming. Thankfully, my friend Karen who had a brilliant eye for colour, and who had been at the patchwork game for some considerable time, escorted me on the shopping trip and led me in the right direction. Suddenly I was the proud owner of a rotary cutter, ruler and cutting mat, along with the aforementioned shoe box.
I loved the whole experience – the hues, varying textures, little gold flecks in fabric, pansies, mellow tones, overdyes, tone on tones, value finding, the soothing repetitiveness of method. Oh, the list could go on forever! It was a turning point in my life! So, I duly made this wonderful top, and I even got some of my points to match. Such pride. I went on over years to make many more tops, and became very skilled at turning them into doona covers (yes, those tips are mine!) Because children and cats throw up sometimes, and covers that are removable are very handy.
Then last year after purchasing a machine that could take a walking foot (always another good excuse), I decided that I really must be able to call myself a quilter, not just an avid collector of fabric (boy have I got some shoe boxes now!!) or a quilt topper / patchworker. Professional credibility and all that. So I whacked together (with extreme care) a flannel checkerboard patterned lap quilt, and faced the quilting challenge. ‘Just stitch in the ditch’, I thought. Well, what a disaster – an unmitigated muck up. Thank Goodness I had a superior quality Clover seam ripper with an ergonomic handle! Every stitch in that thing had to come out. And it took a lot longer to unpick than it did to sew. Several weeks of hockey training and games were spent sitting looking knowledgeable, and unpicking as fast as I could go. Then I looked even more superior, and tied the quilt. A beautiful job. But I still can’t call myself a proper quilter!!
The last bit to the story is that I dug out that inspirational quilt top, the luscious watercolour rails, and decided it had to be quilted, that it deserved better than residing in a crate. I took it to my current craft group, Capital Crafters, planning to be really really brave and quilt it on the quilting machine. I quailed. I balked at the challenge. My masterfully skilled friend Cathie came to the rescue, and did a superb job (after some team unpicking as I forgot to change the bobbin thread – whoops - red on teal did not look flash). The job is done, the top has grown up into quilt at last, and I say a huge thanks to Cathie for her patience, confidence and talent.
The bottom line is; I must learn to do this myself. For my own benefit. If I don’t face this challenge once and for all, I will regret it. Skillbuilder panel 1, and Skillbuilder Companion book, here I come. Stay tuned, and keep the seam ripper sharpened for me please. Julia
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