Sunday and the Pink Fire Truck
I know everyone has been most envious of me–still at the Quilt Festival–but alas, alack, I have actually been to work and to a couple of doctor’s appointments plus stood at my window watching the rain—-my truck is tearing my sidewalk up; water comes up over my shoes when I walk on the lawn–it’s like walking on a huge soaking wet sponge.
So here is my account of the last day at Festival.
Today is the last day. Sherry poured herself a bowl of pills (er, Cheerios) this morning while I was still half asleep. I drank coffee—and somehow it does not energize me—but makes me want to sit around in my nightgown. I was late to my class that morning—by Susie Monday—on making inspiration cards. With a variety of simple techniques—fabric paper and collage, we each made several cards—which Susie then reduced. It was amazing how gorgeous they all looked after being reduced. Sherry made several spectacular cards using color as her theme—somehow I managed to glue my fingers together.
Since I had parked again in the outward lot, I had walked a bit to get back to the convention center. I took photos of the sunrise and the reflections on the buildings and then followed two officers who were placing fliers about the arrival of the Pink fireTruck. So after class—and before our final shopping, we investigated the Pink Fire Trucks.
I put on pink bunker gear including helmet and tried to convince their official dog to come out for a photo.
I don’t remember when I took photos of the quilts—but there were several that I remember. Inge and Steen’s work is always spectacular—it is so reserved and serene—they are the nicest people and their work reflects it. A group quilt by a Japanese sewing group featuring their sewing rooms was fabulous in its details—sewing machines and cats in the cupboards, and rolls of fabric, and projects underway. Barbara McKie’s Seals was a favorite with the crowds and then there was the antique quilt of half-square triangles in red and blue that I fell in love with.
Reluctantly we each bought a needlethreader for ourselves—its’ hard to admit that you must have aids—and then some more yarn—and then it was time to go home.
Tomorrow it’s back to work. Sigh.