I’m starting to think quilting is an addiction.  Half way through my current project, I’m thinking of which quilt to start next. It doesn’t matter that I’m no ways near completion of Summer Trellis, I’m jonesing for a new pattern thanks to the quilt monkey on my back.  At any given time I have at least eight quilts in the closet at various stages of completion.
I start to lose interest in a quilt about 3/4s of the way through.  By the time I’m ready to cut the binding fabric, I’m ready to threw everything to the back of the closet.  My fingers are itching to cut new fabrics, sew new blocks, get another new thrill.
Through help talk and sometimes a slap across the forehead with my own hand, I preservere.  They say that admitting is the first step towards resolving any addiction.  I guess I’m ready for Quiltaholics. I don’t want to stop quilting, I just need help sticking with one quilt at a time.   So while I’m waiting for the next meeting to start, here’s what I did today.
The rest of the morning I sorted through cupboards packing 2 1/2 inch floral scraps for Meaghan and quilt books for Andrea. It is not helping that my family are feeding my addiction.  We are planning a visit to Woodstock this week, so the table will be strewn with fabric and books. I’m taking my sewing machine with me as Andrea wants to learn machine stippling.  We got it bad.