Quilter's booty

Well, one of the few goals I had this vacation week -- besides overeating and lazing to the point of utter sloth -- was to get to my favorite quilt shop. And despite repaving traffic woes in this northern haven that turned the quick four-miles into town into 50 minutes each way, fellow quilter Jody and I braved the possibility of idling forever (which was, after all, the theme of the entire vacation) on a two-lane highway narrowed down to one to get our fabric fix. Turns out the traffic was clear by Friday and we had plenty of time and energy left for shopping.


As expected, The Icehouse's fabric selection was fantastic. I restrained myself to a point and carried just the "Safari" jelly roll around with me for about a half an hour while I browsed. Luscious flannels, gorgeous florals, too many jelly rolls (and charm packs and layer cakes) to count and a striking wall of blues could have been my downfall, but I was being good...until I found the "Malibu Monkeys" fat quarters. Then realized I'd walked right by the yardage. So I went back to find it.

I'm such a sucker for that silly sock monkey fabric, and a sucker for my Monkey Girl, who absolutely loves my quilts. She's been living in Bermuda with her parents for five years (having moved from just down the block), and even though I see her fairly often for them being so far away, it's always hard to part after our week together up north. Every quilt, I tell her, is a big hug from Auntie Kate, so when she misses me, she can just wrap herself in it. And as long as she needs hugs (or until I get an "Oh. Another quilt?" reaction), I'll be making her quilts for Christmas.

My Monkey Girl, another year older

And the charm packs? Turns out we'd just missed their annual sidewalk sale the weekend before, and there was a half-price table near the register. Don't know what I'll do with them, but I know from experience that one charm pack is never enough, and two for the price of one? Come on -- who can pass that up?

And just so you can see my life isn't All Quilting, All the Time (though I'm really itching to get back home to my machine), I show you my approach shot from 140 yards out on the second hole of my favorite golf course. I can never do this -- my approach always ends up an $8 cab ride away from the hole and I end up three-putting. So I had to document it. Birdie!