Um..Hi. I’m Russell. I live here. With Amy.
You know, when she leaves Blogger signed in I always tell her I’m going to write a post about how awesome it is to have me around. She just laughs and kicks me out of the chair. But here it is again, username and password rendered, Amy gone for the next 45 minutes, and not a thing in the world for me to do other than post something on her blog.
Looks like she hasn’t been on here in ages anyway—well, 9 days. But, isn’t that like 9 years in blog years? Usually she gets up to chase after a toddler that just snatched a rotary cutter or a pin cushion—intent on who knows what nefarious purpose once they get back to their lair.
So, I thought I’d post some of my…observations, let’s call them, on living with a quilter/blogger. Think of it as sort of a survival guide for those of us who are really quilting enablers not strong enough to stage an intervention.
I. Quilting notions can serve a variety of other, non-quilt related purposes: A rotary cutter, for instance, serves as a great pizza cutter. These puppies work brilliantly onNew Yorkstyle, or just about any thin crust pizza—even those crispy thin crusts. I prefer deep dish orChicagostyles, but beggars can’t be choosers. The actual pizza cutter was dirty.
You know, on second thought, let’s just keep that between us. I think she paid a lot of money for it. And she doesn’t know I ditch the green beans and order pizza for me and the girls when she goes to guild meetings.
II. Trying to help is great. Just make sure what you’re doing is actually helpful. The other day I came across a jar of these:
I thought she was just being too rough with them so I straightened about 40 before she saw me and told me they came like that. Oops.
III. Needles: First, wear shoes. There’s always an errant straight pin hidden in the carpet. On the positive side, I never have to tolerate a blister from my running shoes for more than a couple hours.
IV. Most importantly, don’t ask a quilter to mend small holes in clothing. I once handed over a polo shirt that got caught on a nail in the garage and it came back batted and stippled.
V. I do like the fact that there is always a fresh can of spray starch available—I’ve gotten a little carried away on occasion. I admit it. My 10th grade math teacher, a no-nonsense Marine, once said the thing he missed most about his ex-wife was that she could make his dress shirts stand up by themselves. This, of course, can be taken too far. Let my life be a warning to you that there are certain articles of clothing that, when starched within an inch of their life, can cause extreme pain if worn. Just saying.
VI. There’s never a shortage of scissors in the house. Though finding a pair that can be used on paper, tape, craft projects with the kids is sometimes difficult. I snuck a pair downstairs last month to cut some wrapping paper for presents and I fully expected to be interrupted and told I’d needed to surrender the pair in my hand and use my pocket knife instead. Fine with me.
VII. You are her assistant- plain and simple. The sooner you accept this, the better off you will be. Whether it’s holding up a huge quilt in a wind storm during a relaxing profanity-filled photography session, or ripping out seams during your favorite bowl game…your duties never cease. Forget football- you have a job to do. And do it you must.
Hope you’ve enjoyed these pearls of wisdom I’ve gleaned over the last year, and I believe you me, the list is growing. When I get an opportunity I’ll sneak on here and update the survival guide. For now, though: solidarity.
Mr. Stitchery Dickory This-Blog-Name-Was-My-Idea Dock