Yesterday I said that I do not consider myself a “quilter”.

I thought about this a bit and realised that maybe I am a quilter after all.  What lead me to this realisation? Well I have to explain something about me.  I have always been very fastidious when it comes to my house and in particular the housework.

Everything always had to be orderly, pristine and perfect.  I couldn’t even stand a coaster that was not lined up evenly with the corner of the coffee table!  I was so ‘anal’ that I had housework lists on the fridge.  Monday – sweep & mop floors, Tuesday – dust & polish, Wednesday – clean bathrooms & scrub kitchen cupboards.  You get the gist.  I know I am crazy but I actually enjoy doing housework.  I put on my favourite music and bounce around doing what has to be done and I love the feeling of satisfaction when it’s finished.

But something has changed….the quilting bug has firmly taken hold and suddenly the housework doesn’t seem important anymore.  Don’t get me wrong, my house is not a bomb site (well most of the time its not) but it certainly is not a patch on the showroom status it once enjoyed.  For me to ignore a dusty mantelpiece or not to sweep a floor that has a few specs on it or heaven forbid leave a bed unmade is a big deal.  But I am slowly coming to the realisation that it doesn’t matter.  I can clean like a maniac and it still needs doing a day later.  So instead of cleaning everyday, I am content with once a week or (gasp) even a bit longer if it means I have more time to sew.

It’s simple really - I would rather spend time in my little sewing room than doing anything else.  I don’t even need to be sewing – just being surrounded by my (albeit small) fabric stash and quilts in progress sooths my soul.  In fact quite often I can be found in there just enjoying a glass of wine and staring out the window.  It is my space, my haven – no boys allowed!    I fuss about, flick through books and move things from one place to another just so that I have an excuse to touch and play with the fabrics.  My new found love affair with scrappy quilts (thank you Bonnie Hunter) has also been a revelation.  For someone who liked everything so perfect, matchy and symmetrical, the fact that I love the sometimes disorder, chaos and mismatchiness of scrappy quilts is enlightening.  They just look so warm and welcoming which is just how my house is beginning to look now that it is not as clinical as it once was. I owe it all to quilting and you people out there in blog land. 


Yesterday I posted my very first picture on Facebook asking for some advice on borders for a quilt I am doing. I couldn't believe that so many wonderful people took the time out of their day to share their thoughts.  I received so many positive and flattering comments and I am humbled to the core. I love this new found online quilting community I have stumbled across.  

What a defining moment this is for me.  My secret is out – I feel like I am in therapy or at a meeting admitting my addiction.

 “Hi, my name is Sue and maybe, just maybe I am a quilter.”