Sometimes, when I successfully learn how to do new things, I wonder what took me so long to start doing them in the first place. I felt that way about crocheting, then about knitting - and now I feel that way about making quilts - or, quilting as we quilters like to call it.
Going into this weekend, I had two things left to do on my quilt: tie it and then bind it.
Getting this quilt tied was a lot harder than I imagined it would be, and only after a broken needle and several blisters on my fingers did I get into a good rhythm. Good thing I was watching (three) episodes of Doc Martin, which simultaneously distracted me from my pain and supplied medical advice in case my quilting injuries worsened.
My binding technique left
a little a lot to be desired - and as usual, my problems mostly stemmed from my blatant disregard for accuracy. (So what if my cardboard template from a cereal box was a bit smaller by the time I was done cutting my squares? And who cares if all of my edges don't quite line up? It would all be okay in the end!)
I loved making this quilt - and I already have big plans for my next one. Those plans, you'll be happy to hear, involve cutting my squares using a quilting ruler, ironing my fabric, and doing other such responsible things to ensure a more finished look at the conclusion of my efforts (ahem).
In the meantime, there is a warm, flannel-backed Weasley-esque quilt to keep me (and Mr. and Louie and Wilbur) warm.
And we love it.