Before this summer, I hadn't made a quilt since I was in high school. I used to stitch together quilt tops cut from my mom's scrap fabric and weird shirts I picked up at Village Thrift. They were truly ugly, calico creations too odd-shaped and square to sleep under. How is it that I was so busy then and yet so crucified by boredom every single day. The hours between dinner and bedtime were a yawning, dark canyon of time. There was less internet then, and it was dial-up and made angry sci-fi sounds and I had to share it with four other people. So I made ugly quilts, I guess, after I mapped out how I'd do my homework the next day during school and before the Daily Show came on at 11 p.m.
When Sjanneke told me she was pregnant, I knew I was going to make a baby quilt. This is because she is very reverent (perhaps overly reverent?) of quilting, and because I knew she'd genuinely like whatever I was able to make, imperfections and all. She's great like that. Then in April, Varu shocked us all by announcing her pregnancy, so I started scheming quilt #2.
Years ago, in the interest of not kidding myself, I set free the notion that I was a person who did "crafts". I was bad at them, uncommitted to them, and didn't need to continue spending money trying to find my "thing" and ultimately feeling like an inept boob. So it was to my great surprise that after completing two quilts in as many months, I wanted to make a thousand more. I was not tired of them. Quilts suit me: pattern, puzzle, coziness. And they're two-dimensional so I feel like as long as a quilt is flat and can warm you, it's not a complete failure.
So I think I have a hobby! It's not terribly butch or hip but at least I'll have a skill to offer my encampment in the post-apocalypse besides.....being fun at parties? (I did once win a dance contest at a bar.) Don't tell me we're not gonna throw ragers in the post-apocalypse. I couldn't bear it.