Retreat booty (noun): door prizes, bounty acquired from gift exchanges, all around fabric purchases completed while on retreat. Not to be confused with the ginormous badonkadonk acquired from eating all that glorious food prepared by hands not your own.
My aunt, who obviously thinks I’m a quilting titan, brought me this little gem she’d won at a previous retreat. Bless Judy Niemeyer’s heart, I love her stuff…will I ever make it? Who knows, but it doesn’t hurt to dream. Or is hallucinate the word I want? Straight jacket, please!
Everyone’s a winner at this retreat! Here’s my door prize…pattern, panel and fabric needed to complete it.
I managed to finish piecing five of the seven tablerunners I promised my mother for her retreat center. I never want to see a tablerunner again (bangs head on table). Here they are…
The purple one I’m going to tweak and add something to those ends. I don’t like them and I expect them to comply. Unlike my children. I might as well hold my breath and wait for Tom Selleck to take me away. Everything’s in batiks, which I love but I’m batiked out. As a side note: did you know batiks smell? I’m operating under the assumption that it’s the result of the dye process, but they reek. Not as bad as the 14 year old, but really, really close.
Tonight, I’m breaking out something else to do…anything else, as long as it’s not a tablerunner.