Thursday, July 31, 2014

Patchwork

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Oh, this is fun.  I had no idea I could spend so much time happily sorting big piles of small fabric scraps out of one basket and into another; cutting them up with scissors, then stitching them back together with a needle and thread.  When all these scraps began to pile up, way back when, I just did not know.  Why did I wait so long?  Oh, bliss. 

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This is probably an immense project; a full-size quilt, hand-pieced from 2” squares, but it doesn’t seem daunting at all.  It seems gentle.  It is tremendously comforting, simple, peaceful.  It seems like something that will be there for me as long as I need it, and because scraps reproduce at a rate not explainable by science, there will always be another, and another, and another scrap quilt.  

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I think this is what makes me love a Big Project, and why I start so many of them—too many, sometimes—I think I just want to have it there, always, waiting for me when I need it.  Be there for me, be steady in times of turmoil.  Everybody’s life is so chock full of (mostly happy) chaos, just the everyday mayhem of family life, so noisy and so hectic, the dirty dishes and piles of wet towels and tumbleweeds of animal hair and trying to feed and placate and comfort and support all my people, this endless work of mothering, and the way I feel like flinging myself protectively between them and their next potentially bad decision, and how it takes me forever to learn that they do not want me to do that, and how much time I spend trying to quell my creeping irritation over their deep devotion to their phones, and (pant, pant) I am frankly on the hunt for peace where I can find it.  My own lack of willingness to engage in confrontation has cost me victory in many a debate, but I am ever in search of peace.   I lay down my arms and sew little squares together.

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Assemble my tools, curl up in a sunny corner, breathe deeply, gently.  Make a quilt.