Stored away in my doll house, from age 10, there is a little bed quilt made of flamboyant 1970s colors. I hand stitched little squares of torquoise, green, and purple together.
(Where did I get that fabric? A friend of my grandmothers had sent us an entire apple box full of her sewing room scraps. And my Mom, bless her heart, gave us lots of room and space to play and make stuff. She didn't freak out at the mess factor.)
I definitely have a sewing gene. As a teenager I sewed lots of clothes. Mom was there if I needed help reading those blessed instructions. As a college student and beyond there was always a project in the works. For college graduation I got a sewing machine.
Two things happend in my 30s:
- I grew tired of making clothes that would end up in the out-of-fashion-pile at the back of my closet. Hours to sew no longer stretched ahead of me endlessly.
- Friend Laurie threw us a surprise baby shower, and then took me to a quilt store, waited while I chose fabrics, and took me home and showed me how to use that rotary cutter and ruler. Before Laurie that cutter had me terrified. So sharp! That was in 1995.
I've been making baby quilts ever since. I can finish them! Lots of large UFOs are lurking in my workroom, but the little quilts are done.
So, thanks to good friends and good family, I am a quilter!