Saturday,
January 8, 2005
Yet more quilting neep
I just got email from the recipient of Sunrise in Cabo -- she loves the quilt, and said the colors and shapes coordinate with a Indian blanket she has on display in her home. Hee -- I love it when this sort of stuff happens.
As for the 70's quilt and Reddkatt's request (and welcome, Reddkatt!), here's what the block pattern looks like, in the original colors. Each block was surrounded by a strip of white, so instead of connecting circles and diamonds it has more of a latticed appearance. Which is fine, but those colors -- oy. To add insult to injury, the white connecting strip actually had a tiny pattern of red dashed lines. Ooookay.
However, I do like the pattern, and I think this will look quite nice and geometric if I make it up with something along the lines of light green, cream and lavender (to match our room). Dunno if I'll go with solids or something with a tiny pattern -- I'll have to get some fat quarters and mix 'n' match them.
And now, I have to go back to work on my tutorial and hope that I don't get interrupted yet AGAIN to fix something that should have been noticed/fixed weeks ago. Some people, I swear. . .
Perhaps this is why some people think I'm strange. . .
I'm currently listening to CRASH by the Dave Matthews Band, and there's a line in "Too Much" that goes, "Merciful God, come into your country." The way Dave sings it, however, it always sounds like "Merciful God, come into your con suite" to me. Hmm, think I've been hitting a couple too many SF cons?
Although the idea of God running a con suite -- that has some possibilities. . .
ADDENDUM: Me and my big mouth. I mentioned this on my SFF.Net newsgroup, people started writing snippets of stories about God and/or gods running con suites right then and there where everyone could see them, and suddenly I was petitioned to do this as an anthology. Titles being batted about include GOD'S LITTLE CON SUITE, CON SUITE OF THE GODS, DIED AND GONE TO THE PARTY, and THE AFTERLIFE OF THE PARTY.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. . .
