I recently splurged and hired someone to wash all our windows, inside and out,
and felt I had to apologize for the tumultuous state of my quilting space,
which once was our guest room. "Don't apologize," window washer answered.
"This is your Happy Room." I paused, thinking about what she had said, and then
thanked her profusely for being so understanding, at the same time realizing
that she had hit exactly upon how I felt about what I call my "quiltery."
There is no other place on earth in which I am more
content than in that 12' by 13' disarray of fabric, spools of thread, rotary
cutters, rolls of batting, an ironing board, quilts and quilt blocks in various
states of completion, and quilting books and magazines. I also have a small TV
with a VCR, a radio and a CD player, should I feel the urge for aural and video
entertainment. One wall is a design wall that my husband made for me, and on a
couple of others, some of my quilts are hanging. Postcards whose scenes someday
I would like to turn into quilt tops are stuck into the edges of a small bulletin
board which holds snapshots of kindred quilters and quilting bon mots that I
especially like. When I am in my quiltery, I forget the outside world, despite
itís often messy looking state, and feel at peace, with it and with myself.
I do not go in there, however, unless I have at least a
fairly large block of time to spend. Running in and out, squeezing in a moment
of quilting whenever I can, does not work for me. Frankly, I like to wallow in
my quilting time, savoring the feeling of creating something; this I cannot do
on the fly. I fully realize how lucky I am to have an entire room to devote to
quilting. I have friends who live in condominiums who must make do on the dining
room table and put everything away before every meal.
Just this evening, my brother called and asked if he
could come stay for a day or two. "Of course," was my response, "Just give me
enough time to clean up my stuff." This is my only problem: occasionally we have
a guest and I have to convert my quiltery back into its original identity. But
you know what? Just as soon as he's gone, faster than you can say "Feed Dogs,"
I'll have it turned back into my Happy Room.
©2003 Patricia Littlefield