Finished with blocks

Finishing the first stage of the quilted wall hanging, after doing all the cutting and piecing, and most of the pinning, and all the sewing myself on my abuela's rusty-but-still-trusty old Singer gives me a wonderful sense of accomplishment, even when (and probably because) the quilt is full of imperfections.

Quilting is an exercise in patience, something I've always been short on. But having to pin precisely and then, often, having to rip seams apart because I've made a mistake definitely cultivates focus and a commitment to do the best job possible without allowing my compulsively perfectionist side to take over.

Today, I went to a make-up class since I'll be missing one session while my mami is here visiting in a few weeks, so I was able to catch up with all the sewing. However, once I finished the face of the quilt, so to speak, my teacher and I noticed that I'd sewn the upper right hand larger block of four squares the wrong way. The purple was supposed to be where it is now, in the uppermost right-hand corner, and the block with black squares was supposed to be next to the red friendship star. The teacher said I could leave it the way it was but I decided that, when I got home, I would rip the seams (something I've gotten really good at), pin it very carefully, and sew it again the right way.

That's what I just did tonight and the face of the wall hanging quilt we're making is now done. Next Thursday, we'll move on to the borders and the quilt will be nearly completed, to be finished probably on the day before my 49th birthday.

Getting this done, and having it look not half bad, has given me great encouragement to pursue the bedspread quilt that I've made a deposit to purchase the kit for. Once I'm done with this project, and before the semester begins in January, I'm going to start my larger quilt and see how that does.

I really enjoy quilting, even more than I imagined I would when I decided I wanted to give it a try two years ago. I think I can sense my abuela smiling because, while she was not a quilter, she always wanted me to have her sewing machine, even when I hadn't sewn a thing since she had put me through sewing classes when I was a little girl. She must have known that I had it in me all along.