As Blue as the Ocean after Somebody Drowns

The title of the post comes from an exercise the freshies did on Friday. It's my third year for doing it, and the kids really liked it this year. Mind you, they've liked everything this week, what with the massive amounts of rain that have kept out whole handfuls of freshmen while subduing the rest. Perhaps there is something about having to literally - and I mean literally literally - wade through flowing icy rivers to get to class. (Did I mention that most of my department moved to portables during Winter Break while our wing is fixed up? Alas, our trailer park lies on low ground.)

This is going to be one of those posts where I just leave the window open all day and throw up things that come to mind, like a patchwork quilt called "Saturday, When in Front of the Computer."

Not that I should breathe a word about quilts, having spent a little too much time with "Electric Quilt" software this week. See, I've been staying one step of the quilting bug, aka "I can't possibly dabble in one more hobby" for over twenty years, ever since my aunt got into quilting and sent me a packet of photocopies and possibilities. But then someone on Facebook (always with the FB, sheesh!) pointed to a study where Nevada is now #50 in education. (Take heart! Because of Washington D.C., we're 50 out of 51!) Kvetching started, and I suggested we (local teacher-friends on FB) make a quilt of 50 blocks, and each of the 50 blocks details a problem that has led to us becoming #50.

This is probably everything that's wrong with me. Just like how when I was recently making a scrapbook page in honor of Christmas Break, and I cut the letters for "Christmas 2009" exclusively out of Vagisil packaging.

(Hey, I already broadly hinted about my "special antibiotics reaction for the holidays." Don't look so squicked out. Or do the math to figure out how much packaging you need to prettily spell out "Christmas 2009.")

In other words, I don't know what happened back in Girl Scouts, but I can't do arts and crafts like the normal kids. Or with the normal kids.

As if I even regularly do craftsy stuff, which is Reason Numero Uno not to let me get into quilting, or it's going to be 1,080 hours of research followed by one quilt block per year and a lot of fabric stacked neatly in the closet.

On the other hand, the sooner I admit I like the research and the dabbling parts the best, the sooner I will become the Buddha and reincarnate into a planet with golden streets and eighteen virginal sister-wives who hand-mix milk-n-honey smoothies all the eternal day.

As soon as I thought about quilts, I was plagued with inspiration. One with a block for each hammie ever! (63 + Raisins the Mouse + the three fish.) A small throw of cotton batiks, and a block for each Indian dish I love. Great moments in cruise ship living! All of my World of Warcraft characters! Genealogy/ancestors! Favourite novels!

This led to hours with "Electric Quilt," including time spent importing fabric samples from for maximum authenticity. This also led to hours looking into sewing machines, a passion that fizzled quickly when the machine I decided to get my heart set on revealed itself to cost $3500. (What's really bad is that at first I thought it cost $1300, and I was all, whoa. I didn't even know whoa yet.)

Then I read a quilting-related novel on the Kindle, which just made things worse because it furthered the quilting bug while also re-igniting the "surely even I have enough skill to write this kind of Lifetime network crap" bug, which leads very directly to the "could you be more lazy, missie?" full-on virus, which then gets exacerbated by remembering all the stressy things that lead me to time spent goofing off instead of curing cancer, 

Luckily I know where the reset button is. 

The way things stand now, I just want to "drop in to Joann's" and "have a look." (Joann's and not some nicer, specialty fabric/sewing machine store because I don't want any questions. Or advice. Perhaps thanks to the internet, I have a very hard time taking advice from just one person.) Even though I have already burned out on quilting - just the idea of quilting - several times this week, I know this is very dangerous.

And Mike is not to be trusted, because if he thinks something will make me happy, all he does is encourage me to do it, offering ideas and never saying things like, "why not just make one quilt block and see what you think?", or "why not hand-sew a block instead of buying a machine with all the computerized muckery?" (The nerve of the man, right?)

And unfortunately I've learned about these "quilt as you go" techniques, so you don't have to make an enormous quilt-top that then needs to be pinned to an enormous quilt-back and then is tediously sewn together while taking up the entire carpet as you stage a multi-month quilting bee for one. (What with not having any big tables.)

Ooo, this post has made me tired. Maybe now I can escape creamy sunflowers (hams love their sunflower seeds) - on sale! (danger, danger) - and get sucked into leveling my priest in World of Warcraft instead.

(I better close this window after all. This conversation never happened. I shall not quilt. I shall not quilt. I shall not quilt. UNLESS! Maybe Bernina will give me a tryout model of their Aurora 440qe machine and a stack of fat quarters - noooo, I'm already learning the lingo! - and I can blog a series of inspirational posts called "My First Quilt" - or perhaps something less insipid - and the posts can be all about how, with the friendly assistance of $3500-worth of sewing machine, even a newbie can create beautiful textile experiences. I could even make the Jane Austen quilt, a la Julie and Julia, and presto-bango, a book deal, a film deal, and no more herding freshmen, for this is the desert, and the quelling rain will not last.)

(Click, and close.)

24 January 2010 |






Carnival Elation (2009)
Carnival Splendor (2009)
Carnival Spirit (2010)
Carnival Spirit (2011)
Carnival Splendor (2011)
Norwegian Pearl to Alaska (2012)