Autumn Leaf Table Quilt or, What My Husband Will Never Understand

Today I was looking for a blog post I thought I'd written with instructions for making a rag quilt (I either never wrote it or my blog is hiding it from me), and I came across THIS POST  I wrote ten years ago, which is ostensibly about a quilt but really is about my marriage and its struggles, creativity, loss, grief, parenting, love, and the lump I still have in my throat.

So many other lumps have been added since I wrote that post that I wish I could just reach bag and hug that Amy I used to be, for all the stuff she doesn't know she will have to work through. And for the clear validity of the painful things she was feeling when she wrote it.

I am different but the same. 

I still find myself making quilts to assuage some hurt. The hurts have been different than I expected, and some entirely surprising experiences have happened since 2009.

But, you know, what I wrote there is still true: sometimes I feel misunderstood by my husband. (And by “sometimes” I mean almost always.)

A decade ago, he was asking me why I was so invested in quilting. He still asks me this question. Why make a quilt for a baby when it would be so much easier to just buy a gift at the mall? (And yes, less expensive.)  Why spend time making another quilt for our house, when we already have a bunch? 

That also gives me a lump in my throat, but what can I do? 

Unlike the Amy I was a decade ago, though, I am much less invested in apologizing or feeling guilty. He doesn't have to understand it. I don't even have to understand it. Is it a compulsion? An obsession? A way of avoiding cleaning the bathrooms?

I don't care anymore.

I like making quilts. And this year especially, fueled by the absolute gobsmacking amount of fabric my mom left when she died, I have been making quilts almost nonstop. Six or seven baby quilts and an enormous flannel quilt for Jake, and all of the shopping for a new quilt for Kaleb. I've even made progress on my black and white half-square triangle quilt. Not to mention the, I don't know, maybe 15 hot pads I've made as gifts?

It doesn't make sense, but it is helping me process in ways I don't fully understand.

In September, Kendell walked into my crafty space and said "what are you working on?" and I said “a table quilt!” and he made that face: I don't understand my wife.

Tables don't get cold and they don't need quilts, right?

Except, I have thought for a long time about making a quilted tablecloth. It seemed a little bit overwhelming as I have an ancient oval kitchen table. If I made a quilted tablecloth I’d feel compelled to make it oval, too, and that just seemed impossible, so I just thought about it. For a long time.

But then I read THIS POST and I thought: OK. I’m not the only person in existence who thinks a table might need a quilt.

And then I saw THIS  “Fall Leaves” quilt block pattern by The Sewing Loft.

And I had my idea.

I used the pattern but I modified it by making it bigger. In the pattern, the largest block is 12x12, but my table quilt is 47x47. This was pretty easy to do, and turned out just fine except for that top point, which isn’t exactly the same as the smaller blocks in the pattern. (But it’s OK.)

This quilt top came together really fast. After shopping, I pieced the top in one afternoon. I was excited, thinking that I’d have it finished for at least half of September, and then I could put it back out again in November.

But then I decided to piece the back with my leftover scraps, and that actually took longer than making the front.

And then I started quilting it.
The quilting on the leaf is meant to look like leaf veins. I did that quilting with my walking foot, and it turned out really well (you can do some pretty good arcs with your walking foot, I discovered! They just have to be large) but it took a long time. Once I finished quilting the inside of the leaf and around the leaf itself, though, I still had to quilt the off-white background.

The off-white (or maybe it is pale, pale greige?), paisley background that I love with every drop of my paisley-loving heart.

I wanted swirly lines on the background, and as I’ve been personally funding my quilter’s house payment for the last little while, I just couldn’t afford to take it to her. And then it was almost October so I decided that instead of quilting my fall table quilt, I’d make a Halloween one! And another Halloween one!

(Which is a different post altogether.)

But as October drew to a close, I kept looking at my leaf. I wanted to finish it. I wanted to put it on my table for November. So I decided to put on my big girl pants, get brave, and do some freeform quilting.

Even though I’m pretty bad at freeform quilting.

But I took my time. I watched several tutorial videos about how to adjust the tension correctly, and how to move your hands with the fabric, and how to keep the stitches smooth and consistent. I practiced on several different swatches until I had the tension as perfect as I could get it (no eyelashes!). I found a thread that wouldn’t be SUPER obvious on the fabric. I spent one entire hour just drawing the loopy shapes I wanted to make. I took a deep breath, adjusted my big girl pants (which were actually my comfiest pair of running tights), and got to work.

I, Amy Sorensen, freeform quilted my Autumn Leaf table quilt.

Is it perfect? Not even close. I did manage to not have any eyelashes on the back, but the stitches are not consistent. The loops aren’t all the same size and there are some that are more octagon than oval. Even the top itself: I think the stem is obviously out of proportion and should be shorter. I cut off the leaf tips with my binding fabric.

But I love it: the colors, the patterns of the fabrics. The contrast of the aqua stem and binding. The fabric itself that I found for the binding—I love that fabric and think it is perfect.

I love the mishmash of angles on the back, the way it looks like those triangles are open lids.

I even love the quilting, even with its imperfections. You can learn something from every quilt you make, and part of what I learned from this one is the tiniest bit of confidence that the only reason I’m not really good at freeform quilting is because I haven’t practiced enough.

And I love that I kept doing it until I finished. I stuck with it even when I accidentally quilted part of the extra back fabric upside down to the back and had to unpick a bunch of stitching. I finished!

Yesterday I washed my table quilt and my tablecloth while I was (finally) packing up all of my Halloween decorations. I set out the Thanksgiving items I have and, once the quilt was fresh out of the dryer and appropriately crinkled, put it on my table.

I’m sure Kendell has forgotten that little conversation we had in September, about why in the world I’d be making a quilt for the kitchen table. I didn’t bring it up. I didn’t even point out how pretty the table looks. Do I wish he could understand? Yes. Is his lack of understanding going to stop me from quilting? Clearly not. It brings me a specific kind of happiness that I won’t abandon just because to him it’s just some squares of fabric.

But I guess what matters more is that I understand a little bit more. There are many reasons I love quilting (and scrapbooking, too); one of them is this feeling of success. I made this, not anyone else, so it exists just because of my efforts. It can exist in the world for longer than I do, even. It can be on our table for the next decade, maybe. Even if the table is different or even in a different house. It can become a part of our story, of my story. Just like the quilt in that post I wrote ten years ago, which right now is on the foot of my bed. I still love that quilt and have gotten it out every September 1 since I made it. It is also part of my story, a background detail and a mute witness to a whole bunch of experiences I could’ve never guessed I’d have.

This morning, Kaleb went to school late, so he had time for a relaxed breakfast. I made him three scrambled eggs, two pieces of toast, and a protein shake, and he ate at the table with the quilt. I almost said “don’t spill” but then I didn’t, because that is its purpose, to cover the table during whatever meals are eaten there. Who will eat there, and what, and what stories will we tell with it under our elbows?

I’ll check back in a decade and let you know.

Comments

[Margot]

The quilt looks lovely on the table, Amy. Those big girl pants look good on you too!
Richard doesn't understand quilting or scrapbooking either. I wish he did, but I've gone beyond worrying about that (most of the time).
We're unwrapping things that have been in storage for three and a half years. Some of them are things that I think "what on earth did I keep that for" but some are the quilts and albums. I know exactly why I kept those!

[Andrea Baugh]

I love the quilt. Lexi still sleeps with her quilt you made her. She still drags it out of bed every morning with her to breakfast. I know it might not make sense but, I love that when I tuck her in with it at night that there is some comfort there for me as well. The comfort and reminder that comes that there is people that care enough to take that time and effort for us.
Thank you for giving us both that.