My father and his wife came for a visit last week and while they were here I was showing off some of my quilts.
As I continued to show them what i had done I realized that, for them, I was speaking a foreign language. Since I have been in quilter world for so long I had forgotten how alien it must be for people who don't quilt.
First we had to discuss why I had sooo much fabric. Explaining that my stash was kinda small in comparison to some had no effect. Neither did the “its sort of like paints for an artist, you wouldn’t expect an artist to just have two colors of paint” explanation work. I didn’t even attempt to describe the fabulous high garnered from stroking my fabric stash. No sense in them having to feel they needed to stage an intervention.
While everyone recognizes that quilts can indeed be beautiful I could tell that the cutting up of perfectly good fabric into small pieces and then reassembling them was something they would truly never really get. A trip to one of my favorite quilt shops was a little constrained as I knew a large purchase would also be met with confusion; remember I already have all this fabric in the closet. So alas I came away with a one yard cut of fabric for a fall project. While I certainly enjoyed their visit I’ve learned my lesson. Next time I shop and share only with other people living in quiltland.
