I, for one, pack like I'm leaving home for a 365-day-straight globe-trotting adventure...my Mom packs like she's never going home.
So far, I've got:
- 5 quilts that need to have the binding stitched down (by hand, 'cause that's how I roll)
- my crazymomquilts quilt-along W.I.P. that needs sashing and borders
- a comfort quilt still in need of its outer border; backing fabrics have been chosen, but I'll have to piece them
- 1 batiks mini-sampler to assemble
- 1 mini-tablerunner that needs binding
and a partridge in a pear tree
And, oh yes, my sewing machine...duh!! Ask me about the time I got to a quilt class and forgot the foot pedal. On second thought, don't...I might kill you with my Death Ray Glare. As you can see from the photo above, everything I need for retreat fits neatly on my kitchen table. Yeah, right...
Packing for a quilt retreat is an occasion for me to deliver my Sermon on the Mount of Fabric speech...to myself, at least, because there's certainly no one else listening. If history is any indication, I won't listen to that inner voice that shrieks 'Enough already!' Come time to leave, my little Pontiac Vibe will be straining to contain every bag, box and basket I've crammed into it's measly interior. My internal dialogue goes something like this: What if you run out of things to work on? Whatever would you do then? Well, DUH, I'd run to the nearest quilt shop and make my credit card squeal...again!! My Mama didn't raise no fool, ya'll!
Would it be unreasonable for me to rent a U-Haul trailer?