It just came through the laundry. For the 500th time. The one who owns this quilt is now 11, nearly 12, and I started piecing it before he was born and got around to finishing it a few days before his little brother was born.
I didn’t know what I was doing at all, just that I needed to make it because this kiddo didn’t get one from his great grandmother like some of the older ones did. It’s just simple rectangles, but I remember that I was scared of messing up, so it seems like piecing took forever. Probably what really was the issue was not having a proper space to cut and arrange, so I had little stacks of colors on the corner of the very small table I was working on. What I know now is that having a clear surface to work on is a big part of what my brain needs to focus on a single project, instead of 45 half finished projects cluttering everything up.
After I pieced the top, it sat while I just recovered from him being born (it was traumatic) and moving, and after we were finally settled in a new house, I got it back out and did a lot of free motion meandering on it, not knowing there was more that could be done.
The binding doesn’t really match, but I remember as soon as it was done, Judah called it his Happy Quilt, so that name has stick. Happy Quilt has been washed so many times and yet it is still intact. It’s amazing to me that it has held up despite all that I didn’t know. I’m glad Happy Quilt is doing it’s job well and is still in service and very much loved.