Might As Well Face It...

I'm addicted to fabric. I suppose there's worse things. I could be addicted to cocaine. I'd spend a lot more money and have nothing to show for it. As it is, I estimate (conservatively) that I own easily 200 yards of fabric. Give or take a few dozen yards. The best part is that it's mostly in fat quarters and other small cuts. I easily got 400 squares for a quilt once without ever repeating a fabric. That's dedication.


This number is actually down from my last rough calculation. I was up somewhere between three and four hundred at one point. That was before I cut out 40-odd bags. I didn't count those in the current yardage. Once fabric is cut into some other shape, it doesn't count any more.



These photos represent the tip of the iceberg. You know, how they say you can only see the top 10% or so of the iceberg. The rest of it is hidden below the surface. "The Surface" is the middle bedroom. Actually, I have moved all of the fabric in there (okay, not all...I'm sure there's fabric out in the living room or somewhere). It's a good place for it.


One of these days I'm going to work on some kind of storage system for it. Something other than a blue clothes basket and a plastic set of storage drawers. Something that is worthy of it's greatness.


Some fabric is not for cutting. I like it too much the way it is. It's waiting for something special. I always say the fabric wants to be a quilt, it's just not sure yet. Some people look at me like they're re wondering how fast they can get me to Warren.

But...quilters just nod. They know.