Flossie Teacakes says that "Making a quilt with a particular person in mind always feels like spending time with them". I don't know really that I subscribe to that view. Unless we're talking about feeling as if you're trapped in a small room with that special person, who isn't talking to you at all but instead throwing bits of their chosen fabric randomly about the floor.
And so it was with Eldest's quilt, which was made roughly to Amy Butler's Gypsy Caravan free quilt pattern. I find it, in retrospect, utterly unsurprising that there are so few completed versions of this quilt pattern to look at online. In its efforts to be oh-so-random, it manages to be far too simple at the same time as requiring almost every piece to be cut to a slightly different size. Eldest is happy, but I wish I'd chosen something a little more detailed for her; I wish that the need for speed hadn't taken over quite so much. Mind you, you don't want a birthday quilt six months after your birthday, either.
One thing my daughter and my mother-in-law seemed to have in common was a choice of incredibly bright fabric that made my eyes go all wobbly. Here is the second gift: based on the snowball pattern by Cluck Cluck Sew. The picture below does not do a bit of justice to the scariness of the full fabric choice - Mr Coffee described the quilt, seen as a whole, as 'fighty'.
The process made me realise - I'm not really a machine piecer. I don't really enjoy cutting up stacks of little squares and ironing loads of tiny seams. Much as I love giving something handmade, I found the process of making-to-order quite stressful and - crucially - something that could only be done whilst sober. It took me well over a year to hand sew my Liberty star quilt, and I enjoyed every minute of it. And many - really, honestly, very many - of those minutes were enjoyed with wine.
Dry January is long gone. I'm ready to get to grips with my next boozy quilt.