Mark My Word Sept/Oct 2007
Autumn is coming faster than Paris Hilton got out of the clink (the first time), and before you know it, we'll be up to our butts in leaves! I'm totally sorry to see the flower garden die and the pool ice over, but baby, I'm ready to rock and roll in my quilting studio. Finally, I can breathe without an air conditioner and I can drape myself in fabric and batting without melting!
In looking back at this time of year, I'm able to see where the patterns of my life began. My compulsive shopping hits a crescendo right about now.
Maybe it's because September has always brought me new things like notebooks, pens, pencils, folders, and the trendiest of polyester- rich clothing from Chess King. Just the thought of cooler weather and shorter days stirs those feelings of capitalism and sends me into a shopping frenzy for fabric, notions, patterns, and any other kind of arts-and crafts goofiness that rock my boat. It's as if I've never grown up but, oh, I have. Indeed.
Yes, my little sunflowers, there was a time before the hair fell from my cranium and started growing on my back, when I was young and free and full of possibility. A time when I thought AARP was the name of a new glam band. (And I wasn't the only one.)
In this issue, I've taken some of our most treasured quilters and begged and pleaded with them to share with us their high school memories–– along with their incriminating senior pictures! Oh yeah! These are better than the Pamela Anderson/ Tommy Lee video. We were all so innocent. Even I––with my David Bowie Diamond Dogs hair-do combed down (per Mom) for my senior portrait and posed with a pensive expression––was the epitome of innocence. (I was the Class Clown, dammit. I wanted to be taken seriously at least once in my life.) I might have just lost my virtue, but I had never even smoked a cigarette.
I remember my grandmother saying, "Time flies." And it does. I didn't think so, until I looked in the mirror one day and saw my father! Acck! And while I still feel like that geeky kid from West Allegheny Senior High School on the inside, I have gathered enough wisdom to understand the calendar's fickleness. My seasonal mantra is "Carpe Quilt-em." Buy, make, and dream now because, before you know it, this year's quilting season will be over and it'll be time to plant the garden again.
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