The Tale of My First Quilt

My very first quilting project

Welcome to the first installment of *Quilting Fables*! This journey begins with a quilt that holds more memories than stitches—my very first quilt.

*Embroidery Beginnings*

My love for needlework started when I was about seven years old, thanks to my grandma. She taught me to embroider—not because she had the luxury of time or supplies, but because keeping an extra-energetic child occupied required resourcefulness. So, with tea towels, pillowcases, and handkerchiefs in hand, I set to work, using the same iron-on patterns you can still find in craft aisles today.

Kittens. Chickens. Flowers. I anticipated new embroidery patterns the way other kids waited for the latest comic book release. I perfected the backstitch and could do it with my eyes closed. French knots were hit or miss, and Daisy stitches? Let’s just say my heavy-handed approach never quite mastered them. But one thing was for sure: I had fun.

*The Great Quilt Idea*

Eventually, my mom and grandma had more tea towels than they could ever use, and there’s only so much excitement in embroidered pillowcases. That’s when my grandma posed the idea: “Why don’t you make a quilt with embroidered blocks?”

Brilliant! At the ripe age of twelve, I imagined myself sitting at her cherished sewing machine, crafting my masterpiece with precision.

**Reality check:**

There was no way Grandma was letting me anywhere near that prized possession.

She had no doubt that within minutes her most prized possession (and quite possibly the most expensive thing she owned) would be smoking and melted with it's needle somehow forced through the stitch plate (if not through my own hand).

To be fair, she did know me quite well, and probably wasn't too far off base on that.

Alas, I was given a hand sewing needle, a pair of scissors, and a spool of thread.

After all, I would appreciate that quilt more if I hand stitched it, right?

*Fellow sewing buddies, take note - do you see in that list of supplies any mention of a rotary cutter? Or a ruler? Straight pins or heat erase marking pencils?

NO!! Of course not!!

Nary a pattern was I given. After all, who needs all those fancy tools?!?! Grandma was a Depression-era sewist, after all, and she knew how to make do with what she had.

*Hand Stitching Struggles*

With dull scissors and an impossible newspaper template, I hacked my way through wonky fabric pieces until, mercifully, Grandma took pity on me (though I’m pretty sure my dramatic pleas helped).

The sewing itself was slow. Tedious. My quilt resembled an inflated parachute more than a proper blanket, but after nearly a year of dedicated effort at Grandma’s house, I finally finished it. And oh, was I proud!

I tucked that quilt away, intending to give it to my first born when they turned thirteen - just as I had been thirteen when I completed it.

*Swearing Off Quilting (Temporarily)*

Hand piecing was HARD. It wasn’t fun. In fact, I hated it so much that I swore off quilting entirely for more than 20 years.

Life happened—kids, work, fleeting creative projects. I stuck to sewing doll clothes, costumes, and home crafts.

Quilting seemed too precise, too demanding.

The rare exception was the occasional rag quilt for my children, but embroidery remained my safe haven.

Fast forward to my son in middle school: I found myself with free time and the urge to pick up embroidery again. And from there, well, the rest is another chapter in this quilting adventure.

**Stay tuned for more Quilting Fables, where I’ll share lessons learned, projects attempted, and

a few more quilting misadventures.**