The subject for this Sunday’s slow, quiet note has been somewhat elusive so I consulted the algorithm for a nudge in the right direction.
This week, I have been repeatedly encouraged by my fellow Substack writers to a) give myself a six month creative review b) summer-up my life (whatever that means) and c) clear the clutter (over and over and over again).
I must say that summering-up is not really my thing - I’m a shade loving creature who can confidently predict that when No-Mow-May becomes Let it Bloom June, my hayfever symptoms will return. Beyond the purchase of a couple of bottles of SPF (30 AND 50) and some new sandals, my annual summer preparations involve replenishing the nose spray, regular eye drops and a daily dose of whichever allergy tablet is on offer at Boots.
I instinctively resent the business-y, corporate-ish, project management-esque idea of a six month creative review but I gave it a go. The headlines can be summarised as follows:
made a list in January
did a few of the easier, more comfortable things and felt quite pleased
didn’t quite get round to doing the trickier, scarier things and felt a bit deflated
made a new list
This quilt was on the January list:
It is one of two matching-ish quilts that I bought from a local charity shop before that time we all had to stay at home for a while. I think I parted with twenty quid for the pair which I felt (and still feel) was a total textile bargain. I waited for a blustery sunny day, liberated them from a slightly musty IKEA bag, gave them a couple of sloshings through the washing machine in some Vanish and Woolite and a day out on the whirlygig.
They survived, fully detoxed and summered-up, but they are not the prettiest quilts in the world. There are holes. They are backed with what feels like old sleeping bag. I was lured by their curious mix of fabrics, colours and prints and couldn’t leave them in the shop at risk of being bundled up and sent to the textile recycling centre.
I bought them because I thought I could do ‘something’ with them. I had an idea to repair them, to liberate the pieced tops from the shiny nylon binding and to remake them with new batting and backing or combine them with other pre-loved fabrics to make something beautiful with them.
Needless to say, six (maybe seven) years on, they’ve lived, folded up at the bottom of a wardrobe. I have washed them twice since purchase. I’ve examined them for further damage, laid them out on the bed and pondered possibilities. They have become a might-do project, a lurking project, a bundle of stitching and making that I’m not quite sure I’ll ever get round to but they are handmade and someone, somewhere spent hours of their life making them. I can’t just throw them away or regift them to the charity shop. One of them even found its way onto Vinted a couple of months ago but 106 views and 20 favourites later I’ve decided to hide it and hang on to them both.
I am aware this is not the behaviour of a woman committed to decluttering and I am partial to a clearing of the decks and the surfaces but these hexagons are going back on the list for the next six months. Roll on the next review…
Thanks again, for taking the time to read this week’s note. Writing here was one of the original to-dos on the January list. I feel pleased that I am on my way to reaching half a year’s worth of words. Your subscribes, shares and comments are much appreciated.
Have a great week.
J x