The lines are closed. Your votes have been counted and verified (yes, there are two), and it’s time to announce the next quilt-in-progress.
(cue anticipation, a darkened blog with swooping flashlights, and some sort of thudding electronic countdown)
In the order of their nomination, your semi-finalists were: Contestant 1, Monet in Silk (thank you Mandy) and Contestant 4, Constantly Cutting out in Tokyo (thank you Fleur). Both semi-finalists have been on a real journey (that would be from the shop to my house) and have done so well to make it this far (without Kitty co-opting the fabric to play swirly swirly dancing game).
(more lights twitch across the blog, the readers clutch their fingers with their teeth, jiggle up and down nervously, or switch over to see what’s on on the other side).
And I can now reveal, that the quilt that I started last night is …..
(annoyingly long pause while the blog eyes up both piles of fabric)
……..Monet in Silk!
Monet gasps, and rustles slightly as the cotton that longs to be Tokyo’s 1,600 tiny squares rescues a brave smile and secretly hopes that the silk turns out to be really slippery to sew.
Would you like to see:
Kitty took a nap after church this morning so, carefully ignoring the siren call of the washing up, I pulled the duvet and pillows off our bed to try to lay out the quilt.
It sounds simple enough, lay out 80 squares of 10 different colours in a pleasing arrangement. But when the colours change depending on whether it’s raining, whether you’ve got the lights on or off and which side of the bed you’re standing on, it’s one of the most complicated quilt lay outs I’ve done yet.
The resident artist came to help for a bit to reduce the need to circle the quilt every time I laid a new square. H has a very different eye for colour to mine, and we tend to pick up things in each other’s work that the other wouldn’t notice. Well, he sees things in mine, and doesn’t see the things that I spot in mine; his work I tend to gaze at in awe struck wonder combined with a complete inability to tell him which bit he just changed.
But before a little voice in the nursery started to pipe up “mama, …..Mama,……. MAMA!”, I had a quilt all set out on our bed, crisp flakes of silk settled into an eau de nil patchwork.
I’ve got a system of stacking quilt blocks in their rows with post-it labels to mark the row number and the direction of the stack, and some superfine pins hold each of the rows together so we will be able to sleep tonight without destroying the whole arrangement.
(PS for those who may be curious – and to be a completely shameless enabler of Mandy – the silk is from Broadwick Silks, located just around the corner and an easy walking distance from Libertys and Carnaby Street, and the colour palette is huge.)