She who dies with the most fabric... wins!

Looks pretty innocent, doesn't it?


And this was well over half way through.


Tidy cupboard, tidy mind. It's two bundles deep and I have all the novelty and themed fabric in a separate storage facility.

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Bugger!

I was sewing this morning, making a bag for my aunt's birthday.
Our tastes and fabric choices could not be any further apart if we sat down and drew up an agreement using a solicitor.

Consequently, selecting the right two pieces for her bag was driving me nuts.
I just don't know what goes with plaid.
Shit, shit, shit.
So, I confronted my fears and set about the grievous task of fossicking around in my much neglected fabric cupboard.
I am hereby proud to announce, that I only have two pieces of plaid fabric anyway.
Did I buy those?
No. Yes. No. Yes. Shit.
Must have been on a sensible day.Thank God I don't have too many of those.

Well, as a result of having scrunched, stuffed and mashed things in there over the course of the last couple of months, finding something appropriate was none too easy.

*sigh*

So, nett result, Simone ended up spending a good chunk of the day reorganising fabric.
I know that doesn't sound too hard at all, but it really is.
Particularly if your naturally left brained disposition places you in the highest percentile of the OCD fabric sorting population on the globe. Perhaps the universe.

But really, does the pink and green floral go in the pink pile or the green? Do you sort by background or colour dominance? Or by range? Type? errrrrrgghh.
And let's not discount sorting things out according to my mood.
No. That's how I got into this mess in the first place.
Shit.

Anyway, I decided to try something different and sort simply by colour, but this time I didn't separate spots, stripes or florals as I had before. Even if they were multi-coloured.

And what I learnt from this is that I possess a lone piece of white fabric and that I don't much care for it.
I have enough green, blue and pink to warrant therapy and that I much prefer spots to stripes, in the same way that I seem to prefer lobsters to dogs.

The bad news is that Jeff came downstairs into the yoga room mid-sort, having kindly decided to take me fabric shopping on behalf of the cats for Mother's Day. Upon seeing the majesty that is my stash, he declared that in truth, I didn't seem to need anymore fabric.

The good news is that Jeff has a competitive, expansive spirit. He has certainly heard me say that she (she = the cat's mother = me) who dies with the most fabric wins.
And he wants me to win.
Plus, as a fellow collector, he understands that need has very little to do with the matter.

Sometimes things just belong together and the world is a better place when this is allowed to happen.
And who am I to stand in the way?

So, as I mentioned, the first rule of quilting is, she who dies with the most fabric... wins.
I fancy myself in with a chance on this one. ;o)