Huh?

Well, that was certainly a long involved story. And one that I haven't heard before. I am glad to know that the man I know and love has : a)given up dumpster diving (at least as far as I can tell and b)has found a new outlet for his creative genius - the Internet. Oh Lord, please don't ever let him put two and two together and come up with EBay!

I don't want to be known as a "dream killer" but I think I might have joined the side of the naysayers if I had had to face a garage full of broken down clothes racks. However, I have a feeling that Jack can also relate to the stage of creativity that occurs after the initial "idea"rush is over.

Take quilting, instance. For some there is planning, measuring, drawing, etc. Then there is the actual purchasing of fabric and the starting of a project. For me, and others, there is a phenomenon that happens once the material has been washed and folded and added to the fabric closet. (If one is lucky enough to have a whole closet dedicated to fabric. Some quilters stash it under their beds and some just pile it up wherever it will go.)

Just having the fabric is not always enough. Due to the variety of fabrics and patterns and new ideas a decision has to be made if the quilter is going to actually begin project A, put the fabric away for project B, or have a complete change of heart and shop for project C. Like clothes racks in the garage, fabric has a way of becoming unmanageable even when neatly stacked. Quilters collect fabric; it's part of the whole quilting game. Fabric by the yard, fat quarters, remnants, pre-cut squares and even other people's fabric scraps. After awhile it adds up.

As long as we are confessing, I have to admit that I've had in my lifetime more fabric than my closets could hold. Finally one day, I said enough, and actually had a "yard" sale. It was rather like having a sale on booze and asking all my alcoholic buddies to come over and see if there was anything they could use. Get a bunch of quilters together and they can make a pile of fabric disappear faster than some of us can thread a needle. Alas, the fabric is gone. I miss the idea of it, the feel of it, but not the bumping my toes on the hard plastic boxes when I was on my way to the bathroom in the dark.

You might be asking yourself what does all that have to do with conversation techniques? Here's how I hope to tie it all together.

Jack could have very easily said to me, "Are you ever going to do anything with all that fabric?" To which I might have replied either "Yup or nope." He could have demanded that I store it somewhere other than under the bed. To which I most likely would have replied, "that doesn't work for me." (I aslo might have punctuated that sentence with a few "F" words). Ah, but Jack is a sly one. He's so cute when he looks at me with blue eyes twinkling. Sure I knew it was going to be hard to do, but when he suggested new and exciting ways to spend the money I would gain by selling the material I couldn't help but say "Bingo!" After all Joann Fabrics is always having a sale!

ME