On a “normal” day, for “normal” things, I have trouble parting with stuff. I have to psych myself up to throw out clothes with holes or that are too big (or too small.) If that pad of paper has at least one usable side of paper, I can’t part with it without a struggle.
If I had money, I’d probably be one of those hoarders they have TV shows about…
Yet today, I have bundled up one of the first quilts I ever made to be thrown away.
Now, to be fair, this quilt has seen it’s share of quilty love. I have watched TV under it, dragged it out to parks and it has even lived in my car for months on end.
The fabric that I made it out of was not 100% cotton (at least two of them were old draperies I had cut up for strips) and it has so many rips, fractures and seams that have given out that it would need a complete overhaul to be nice enough to give away. It has so much grime and so many stains that it can never be completely clean.
It has been retied several times over its 20+ years of life. A central seam on the back of it has ripped out (and it’s not the only one.) I think I even replaced the batting at one point. This one looks like a cotton/poly.
It represented the ultimate test of my beginning quilter knowledge with its prairie points, narrow border (on both the front and the back, mitered with a bit of random roundness on each corner), “on-point” setting, and pieced back.
Unfortunately, it has no place in my life, and I have no place for it in my apartment anymore. I have 15 unquilted tops which I like better in terms of color, design and technique, but it still draws my attention and I can’t seem to get rid of it.
I have had it sitting in a pile of mending for a couple of years, thinking I would repair the ripped back and actually quilt it on the machine with a Baptist fan or a large meander or a clamshell.
It’s now sitting on the heap of things to take out to the garbage, so I guess I still have time to save it. I shouldn’t… but maybe…