This October, in the spirit of the season, we offer you spooky stories as only quilters could appreciate. The name for this collection of ghoulish tales is Night Stitches.
A project is included with each story. Here’s this week’s pattern:
Attack of the Flying Iron
by Emily Cross and Betsey Langford
It is perfectly normal for things to go a little awry while quilting. It happens every time, to all of us – a line of stitching wobbles, the scissors take an extra snip in an unfortunate location, Flying Geese migrate in one direction more than the other, or perhaps it’s a block positioned upside down in the middle of a quilt. We are all too familiar with awry. All except Bernadette. Her day was going perfectly.
The day started with cutting a quilt. Right away she sensed it was going to be a different kind of day. Her rotary blade was sharp, not a single nick. The ruler stayed true with every cut, never the slightest slip. Every cut was measured once, cut once, all exact to the sixty-fourth of an inch. Precision was her friend.
Feeling confident, she began piecing. The Half Square Triangles never wavered, each one came out to size. The Half Square Triangles grew into Eight Point Stars, each one with perfect points. Every corner met the other as if they were old friends. Bernadette noted her skills must be improving. She was truly having an on-point day.
On through the quilt Bernadette worked. She matched seams, threaded needles on the first try, and never dropped a pin. Soon she was singing along with her machine, her face beaming. The hours zipped along and as the day drew to a close, it was time for the borders. Absolutely stunned, Bernadette sat back and looked at her progress. Never before had she completed a quilt in a day.
Taking a deep breath she began the borders. The first border, the second border, sides done. Then the top border and on to the bottom. As she took the last stitch in the bottom border, she pulled the quilt top out from under the needle, and to her complete delight the bobbin thread gave up its last three inches of thread. She sat in complete astonishment.
Such a perfect day. Bernadette took a moment to close her eyes and give thanks for this amazing day. She began counting her blessings, one, two, three…
“What on earth?” Bernadette awoke with a jolt. Something had smacked her in the back of the head. She twirled around to spy Molly sitting on the ironing board directly behind her, licking her back paw high in the air.
“Don’t look at me,” Molly mused.
“Oh, the iron flew all by itself and hit me in the head?” Bernadette accused.
“It’s a monster.” Molly reported matter of factly.
Bernadette stood and fetched the iron off the floor to return to the ironing board. She ran a hand over Molly’s back as the cat meowed loudly.
“I suppose you want dinner.”
“Now is good.”
Bernadette surveyed her sewing table strewn with stacks and piles of hundreds of Half Square Triangles in various states of completion.
“Well, it was a good dream while it lasted. Time for bed.”
Molly meowed again.
“Right, your dinner, then my bedtime,” Bernadette said, flicking off her sewing machine.