The other day I decided to get back to the sewing machine and so set about destroying perfectly serviceable pieces of fabric in order to make patchwork. I don’t know why patchwork appeals to me so much – all things considered it’s a rather tedious method of creating a blanket – however I find it incredibly satisfying to sit with a calculator and figure out how big to make the squares, which pattern to use, how to quilt, which accent colours should I swap in if there isn’t enough of a certain fabric for the pattern I’ve picked. And the actual sewing itself is even more interesting as to get the correct size of finished patchwork, you need to have been incredibly accurate.

Still… because this quilt is for baby to roll around on and cover in grot to rival the cat’s, I want it to stand the test of time, and to look good. As a result I’m not taking any of my usual shortcuts – no buying pre-cut squares from ebay, no skipping the ironing of seams, no super-thin seam allowance so that I can use the presser foot as a measuring guide. Oh no. This time I am measuring my seams for every square, I’ve carefully cut all the patches by hand* and I actually bothered to look out the iron.

Some time later…

Ironing does nothing! All the work – all the arm movements… NOTHING. Twitch.

*Frankie falls over into a small, drooling heap on the floor and pledges to finish the quilt another day.*


* The last time I did this was whilst working on a 2x2m quilt for M- and the cutting alone took 3 days. I vowed I’d never subject my hands and scissors to that again and insisted, when other people asked, that I’d only done it for M- because I love her. Here we are again though and it wasn’t quite as bas as I remember.