I love quilts. Quilts of all kinds. If I were going to have a collection of something it would be quilts. Well, and buttons…but that is an entirely different post. I decided several weeks ago to attempt to make a simple square pattern quilt of my own. My beloved joyfully took me to the Quilt Haus, and I picked out some pre-cut squares to begin my adventure. I chose a collection of fabrics called “Prairie Paisley.” This is how I do most things, I get some wild hair and decide to do something new. I have no clue what I am doing or what I am getting myself into…but I dive in nonetheless. Anyway, we get home and I immediately begin to try and piece this thing together. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t find a pattern of laying things out that I liked. I was so frustrated. Richard ever so lovingly pointed out that the quilt on our bed had no pattern either. He told me to get over it and get to quilting. I put everything back into the bag and hung it on my bathroom door. Fast forward several weeks through a trip to Michigan and an emergency trip to Kansas for my grandfather’s funeral. There I was in my bedroom with that bag of scraps taunting me. So yesterday I pulled them out, and with out worry (OK, there was plenty of worry…but I pushed through) about how it would look minus a definable pattern, I got to sewing.