Doing The WorkPosted: September 28, 2013
(There was a joke there, about being a tool, but I decided not to go there.)
I’m always so dim about the assignments I’m given. A long time ago, I started a baby quilt for a little girl whose mother is no longer in my life. We didn’t fall out, but we aren’t in touch anymore, so I didn’t finish the quilt for her little girl. I found that quilt a few weeks ago, and I ended up finishing it, thinking, “Oh, that’s perfect timing!” since two of my friends had just found out that they’re expecting their first child. One problem with that…they’re pretty sure they’re having a boy.
I decided to finish the quilt anyway. My first thought was to donate it to the hospital where I’d been a fairly regular patient as a child. I called their donations office, though, and they weren’t quite sure what to do with a baby quilt. (To be honest, I think they were a little boggled that someone wanted to make a donation that wasn’t money.) So I called the hospital that I can see from my house (which, really, probably should have been my first choice anyway, because community, right?) and talked to the manager of the mother and baby department (which I guess is what they’re calling maternity wards now? idk). It turns out that they’d be thrilled there to have baby quilts to give to some of their less fortunate families.
When I posted a picture of the finished top on Facebook, one of my friends commented to me that it looked like a Brighid’s cross design. Let me tell you, light bulbs started going off all over the place. And I’ve got two more quilt tops that I’m trying to get finished today, for quilting and delivery (heh) later this week. Sometimes the Work just sneaks up on me. I asked Her if that was what she’d intended, and I got, “You’ve got a sewing machine. There are babies with NO BLANKETS. What do you THINK I’d intended? FIX IT.”