Movin' On

Despite the Julie-inspired shoe-buying interlude, I've spent big chunks of the past few days fusing frowsy pastel flowers onto that stupid pastel quilt. Why? Because it was there. Because I didn't have a concrete idea of what else I want to do next art-wise. Because the fusible was already on the floral fabric and I hated to waste it. Because some optimistic-to-the-point-of-madness part of me kept thinking it would eventually look good. HA! Last night I threw it down in disgust, shouting "It is a feelthy peeg! I spit on it! (ptooey! ptooey!) We will speak of it no more!" (bonus points if you can name the slightly mangled pop culture reference) I was fully expecting to get up this morning and rant here about how it's the ugliest thing I've ever made and to solicit ideas for an extreme makeover, quiltstyle. I confess I was rather looking forward to chopping it into little pieces, pouring paint over it, etc. But this morning, before I signed the death warrant, I decided to take one last look. I asked J to hold it over the deck railing so I could take a pic and see an overall view. And in the end I decided it is not, in fact, the ugliest thing I've ever made. It's merely the second-ugliest thing I've ever made. And I decided that it still might, believe it or not, have possibilities as a bed quilt in the guest room. Hard to fathom, I know, but the guest room is where I channel my Inner Victorian Grandma. It's all white cotton-and-lace, scrappy quilts, pale yellow walls, vintage-to-antique furniture. Frowsy pastel flowers actually fit pretty well in there. So it got a reprieve and may yet be quilted and finished someday. But not today. I really, REALLY can't stand to look at it anymore right now. So I folded it up and put it back in the stack of "maybe someday" bed quilt tops. Now it's time to move on to something else. And whatever that something else is, I promise you it will not involve pastel flowers. Bleah.