Dear Amanda: I can quilt!

Dear Amanda: I can quilt! I finished it :) My first-ever quilted potholder is done! And...

...stuffed in a drawer :/ 

The thing looks rough, Amanda, really rough. It's crooked. It's uneven. The stitches vary in length and look like I was failing a sobriety test when I sewed them. It doesn't lay flat but kind of stands up in the middle, probably the result of a lack of tension, or maybe too much tension? I don't know. And whatever you do, DON'T turn it over...the back is a horrific mess of knots, tangles, and "corrected" mistakes. It's enough to make even the most gracious seamstress wince like she was just jabbed with a #9 needle. Todd tried to make me feel better by telling me that it just had a “hand-made” look. That kind of talk goes over really well at craft shops. Hand-made items are supposed to be special because they’re one-of-a-kind, they can’t be replicated. Let’s just say: I hope so.

Yet, despite its...existence, I love this potholder :) Not as a thing to look at or even use for its intended purpose, but as a symbol of accomplishment. I really enjoyed sitting down to work on it. It was fun! I like the fact that I learned a lot of things (mostly what not to do) during this, my inaugural quilt-sewing experience. Here they are, in numeric outline:

1. I’ve taken up a hobby that requires math. Apparently, there are such things. I know that accuracy isn't good enough; you need precision. I thought I cut all the pieces just like they needed to be cut, but the end result tells me otherwise. Rather than individually measure ever single pice I need, I think next time I'll make a window template. That way I only have to measure the same-shaped pieces once, eliminating opportunities for discrepancy. And sheesh, it will speed that part of the process along considerably. Even with Todd's help that part of the process was by far my least favorite. 

2. Similarly, all the seam allowances need to be identical. If it's supposed to be 1/4 inch, make it exactly 1/4 inch. It will come back to haunt you if you think you got it almost right. Almost is not good enough when it comes to sewing. Why oh why was I not born a perfectionist?

3. I've learned to cut the backing and batting a little bit bigger than the quilt top...I learned that one the very hard way. 

4. It will probably work better if I sew the quilt sandwich from the middle and work my way out, rather than the other way around. In fact, it might fix my tension problems altogether. 

5. I need a seam ripper. And some shears. And a tape measure. While I'm at it, I need a sewing machine. That would work wonders for my sewing. 

So, while the finished product looks like a miserable, embarrassing failure, I know it's not, really. It broke me of my fear of sewing, it taught me I really can do this, and it set me on my way to accomplishing more useful and hopefully more aesthetically-pleasing projects. I was proud to look at my poor, warped potholder and know that I, the formerly sewing-challenged Meredith Overbeek did every single crooked stitch. With my bare hands. Which, being bare, fared as you might expect. 

Thanks for all your help and advice...and for not laughing at me when I told you I wanted to learn to quilt :) Now, on to bigger and better things, right? Well, not exactly, not yet. I think I’ll try to make this potholder again and see if I can’t improve on things a bit. That and the prospect of tackling anything larger without the aid of a machine scares me.

Here she is: I think I'll call her Wonky. And no, I'm not showing you the back so don't bother asking.