Just give me three weeks to sleep and I might be whole again.
Recently I got up about 9:30 a.m. on a Thursday and that next Sunday sat down to watch television through shut eyelids at 3:30 p.m. Between those two actions, I logged six and a half hours sleep, but none of it on Saturday night. First it was the excitement of going, then the excitement of being there, then the dogged cussedness of refusing to give up until I was done.
Never did get done, but I didn't sleep much, either.
With nine other women, I went to a quilters' retreat in West Union. There are no words to tell you what a fun time it was. Well, there are words, but too many to cull down for brevity. I wanted to come home with a quilt made and I got almost all the little pieces cut apart and sewn back together, but in my mind things looked much different than the block I completed looked when hanging on the wall.
In my mind, it looked good. In reality, it looked like the color fairy threw up on the wall. Such a disappointment.
I didn't finish my quilt, but I did learn to make a candle cloth - a circular piece for putting under a candle. Or a bowl of fruit or a candy dish or nothing at all. It looks good enough to sit there all alone if that's what I choose to do with it.
Roni Rork, of Humboldt, started making a bunch of them for herself, so we begged her to give us a class. Of course, it meant another trip to the local quilt store, but I'm telling you, that wasn't a chore at all. Expensive, but not a chore.
On Sunday morning when I'd become good and disgusted with the path this new quilt was taking, I switched gears to make a Halloween banner for my sister, Barbara Boosinger. My friend gave me a chunk of fabric emblazoned with ghosts yelling Boo, and since Boo is my sister's name of choice, it just seemed right to do that.
That didn't get finished either because my ride had to leave early. By this time I couldn't really care about anything, so I packed up and left too. I may have slept a mile or two in the car, but occasionally I woke up. Potty breaks and all that, you know.
What might have been the best part of the trip was riding with Bev Buske and her sister, Maddy. Or Lynn. Or Carol. She was a three-name quilter last weekend. I loved being with a Buske because Buske is my daughter's chosen last name. They're not related, but I could always pretend they were, and it made me happy to be near her.
After they dumped me at home, I slept for a full day, but I'm getting rested now. Wondering how long it will be before another retreat is planned.
After all, I've got a colorful quilt to finish. And I could use another lesson from Roni.
So long friends, until the next time when we're together.
Sandy Mickelson, retired lifestyle editor of The Messenger, may be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.