Around the time of Hurricane Harvey, my wife started a quilt for me. It involved cutting multiple pieces of fabric into 2 inch square, pinning the squares into a pattern, sewing the squares together, placing batten, sewing the backing fabric, sewing the border, and finally the part she likes: sewing the quilting pattern to hold it all together.
This was when she had it all the pieces pinned together:
This is the final quilt:
She spent many hours on this project. She'd be inspired, put it away for awhile, and for some months, she didn't even want to keep quilting. The bug hit her again, so she finished, and is starting another project.
I think she's an artist, but she can pick out every tiny detail she doesn't like. That's the artist in her, and doesn't lessen the fantastic thing she made out of love.
In Case You've Wondered
My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.
If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com
One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.
I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.