For the last few years, my immediate family has done a name-draw gift exchange for Christmas, rather than all of us doing gifts for everyone. We're an average-sized family: Mom and Dad are still married, my older sister is married, my younger brother is in a long-term relationship with a woman whom we love but who does not observe Christmas, and I, as you know, have my Jason.
So. Seven of us participate. There are no children among our individual pairings, and we stopped exchanging gifts with extended family years ago. I am by far the most cash-strapped of us, yet I think my mom is the only one who enjoys Christmas more than I do. Therefore, since we're all adults who can manage well enough to provide for ourselves, I brought up the idea of doing individual gifts, so that what small budget I had could be used to the fullest extent. YES. I HAD SELFISH REASONS FOR THIS SUGGESTION. Whatever. At any rate, it works well and everyone seems to be happy enough with the arrangement.
Mom, of course, completely disregards the rules and buys gifts for everyone, but she doesn't have any grandkids yet so she's got to have someone to spoil. Since I am included in that "someone," I am not complaining. Also, my mom knows all of us kids very well and she makes an effort to make her surrogate kids (Jason, my brother-in-law, and brother's girlfriend) feel just as much a part of the family as the biological kids, so there is no hint of favoritism or anything underhanded in her gift-giving.
LOVE YOU, MOMMY, for reasons that have nothing to do with your gift-giving, but that's what I'm writing about at the moment.
(My dad pretty much rocks too, but his awesomeness will be extolled in a later post.)
What was I talking about? Oh yeah. Christmas gift exchange.
Sorry. I had more than my share of a bottle of wine with dinner. Oops.
AS I WAS SAYING, this year I drew my sister's name for Christmas. As most sisters would say, "I know her pretty well." She's always cold (physically, not emotionally); she likes rustic, homey things; she appreciates handmade items; she and her husband just finished painting and re-flooring their house. Bingo, a handmade lap quilt that coordinates with their new paint and flooring! So I've never made a quilt before, who cares? It can't be that hard, right?
The short answer is, "Right." See, the thing is--and I'm not bragging about this, simply stating a fact--I'm really, really good at looking at a sewn or knitted item and figuring out how it's made. You may call it "reverse engineering," and I often do, but textile construction just makes sense to me. My grandfather was the same way with mechanical, electronic, et cetera things. He just got them. He could crack open a non-functioning transistor radio and have it back on track within minutes. There was not an engine around he couldn't fix. He was complete crap at explaining their inner workings to the uninitiated, because he'd never really gone through the actual learning phase. He simply understood it.
That's how I am with textiles. I always have been. So when I decided that my beloved sister NEEDED a quilt for Christmas, I figured I could make it up as I went along. How hard could it be? Pieced top layer. Batting in the middle. If possible, a one-piece backing (but definitely a backing of some sort). A reasonably sturdy edging. Stitches to hold it all together. It's a quilt, not a freaking nuclear reactor.
Truth is, and any die-hard quilters reading this are going to crap their pants at my saying this, it wasn't hard. And it turned out well. I'm not stupid; even my textile-related arrogance will concede that there are some things which you may get but which still require practice that I did not have time for. Therefore, I did a simple six-inch-square checkerboard pattern of calico fabrics with plain unbleached muslin. The backing was a solid piece of the same plain muslin, cut large to form the binding (I am aware that this is dirty cheating behavior. I am also aware that I'm okay with that). Rather than quilting, I opted for tying, which is less time-consuming and, again, requires less practice.
I have since discovered that my reverse-engineering skills were not perfect. Yes, the quilt was finished, though not as quickly as it could have been; I did not even consider the possibility of strip piecing. Every hat I have ever knitted is off to whomever came up with that shortcut. I love nothing as much as a good time-saver. Work smarter, not harder. Also, I did everything completely and horrifyingly out of order, as in, the binding was sewn before a single tie was made.
Again, seasoned quilters are racing for a clean pair of drawers.
What ultimately matters is that the quilt did not fall apart in the wash (I may approach my crafting with a shoot-from-the-hip attitude, but I'll be damned if anything I make as a gift can't stand up to normal handling), and my sister loved it. LOVED. IT. She went so far as to request a bed-sized one to match, and even offered to pay me and buy any equipment I may still need, like, oh, I don't know, A QUILTING FRAME. That's right, I tied that mo-fo without so much as an embroidery hoop.
Since I loved making that stupid little five-foot-square piece of hodgepodge, I told her no pay, just buy the stuff I need, and I'll do it. So that's my next project: a bed-sized quilt. We went to the store tonight and bought the fixins for it. Here's how much homework I've done: I'm not entirely sure I told her the right amount of fabric to purchase. If I was wrong, I'll just go buy the extra out of my pocket, but I think (hope) I did the math right.
That, plus the plum-colored cardigan I'm knitting for myself, should keep me busy for a few weeks. Maybe the camera fairy will even pay me a visit so I can decorate this here blog of mine! Wouldn't that be festive. (I'm aware that this "camera fairy" is purely a figment of my imagination, but it's easier to pretend that that's the reason I am so lame when it comes to getting pictures off the camera and onto the computer, which is another post entirely.)
PICS OR IT DIDN'T HAPPEN!!
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