The Ugly Quilt

In the back of the room, in a dusty corner sat the box, forlorn and nearly full.

This was the ugly quilt block box. When a guild member made a test block or two and didn’t like the results she could donate it to the box. I’ve seen some strange blocks in that box; satins mixed with burlap, sequins and sparkly flecks, ribbons and lace. What were they thinking? The pretty ones had seams coming loose. Stretched triangles, and odd sizes also helped a block make it into the box. One poor thing was made of left over pajamas. One child that year must have had flying pigs while her brother the blue and orange plaid. But the red satin tricot?; My oh my, mama!

I often pawed my way through the box looking for adventure.

I enjoy quilting, but I’ve never gotten good enough to win a prize at the quilt show, well maybe an honorable mention for effort. The year I finally got a second place ribbon was because I told them I was blind. My brain only registers the view of one eye at a time, flipping back and forth without any consideration of what I was trying to look at. You can imagine what my seams looked like!

I decided to try an experiment.. I would blindly make a quilt. I piled thirty-two blocks on my cutting table according to size but not looking at color or pattern. I began sewing strips, willy-nilly not caring about color or pattern, just size. When my strips were done, I combined them wherever they would fit.

I grabbed a length of cotton from the third drawer down in the blond dresser. These were the one-yard pieces. This was for the borders—hummm gold and black mini checks, she must be blind I heard a voice whisper.

I have to stop playing blind now to quilt my quilt. I had an older friend years ago that was blind and still quilted but did it by hand. Her work was beautiful. She could feel the seams with her fingers to follow with her stitches. Using my sewing machine I would have to let it just do the work as I closed one eye and pulled the fabric through. The binding will be dark, black or blue, maybe brown to calm down my crazy pattern.

Now I just need a happy child, ones who loves color, and crazy ladies to tuck my quilt around. For after all—

Love is blind.