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Sunday, October 21, 2012

He's my little quilty pleasure...

They say that original sin is the guilt of Adam, well that's the quilt of Toby, my original son.

As it happens, that photo has been in the making since April of last year. At the time, our good friend 'C' was perfecting the art of patchwork in an effort to sew up the handicraft market and go from rags to riches, while Lisa and I were trying to conceive of where we were going wrong in our efforts to have another baby. Who would have thought that eighteen months later, those two projects would have been completed successfully and combined into the photo above? It was almost worth getting stuck in that traffic jam.

Anyhoo, it's a well known fact that 'C' likes to be beside the seaside, and I do like to be beside the 'C', so I was particularly pleased to be stitched up by the material girl yesterday when she turned up in Brighton to visit Toby, armed with a home-made quilt. She's making one for Amelie too, incorporating fabrics from America and Germany, but that one isn't finished yet. I don't think she can afford the import tax. If it's anything like Toby's though, it'll be among the most beautiful things you've ever seen. The photo above doesn't really do justice to the amount of work involved. Which is a statement that applies to Toby too.

On the subject of beautiful things, take a look at this...

That's a photo of me posing in the living room mirror. Unfortunately I couldn't get a clear shot of myself due to all the people on the sofa. It does, however, prove that in addition to being a highly skilled patchworker, 'C' is the kind of person who thinks of everything. The red object on the seat next to her is a box of 'Colour Catcher'. When she gives someone a hand-made quilt, the woman takes no chances.

So having experienced a bit of quilt guilt at the generosity of 'C's gift, we decided to repay the favour by taking her down to the marina for a slap-up meal. And then making her pay for herself. We usually go to Strada, but tragically it was forced to close down after Amelie ate them out of business, so we ended up at Prezzo instead.

We'd been there for almost an hour before we realised that the lady on the very next table, sitting three feet away from us, was one of my colleagues. And neither of us noticed each other. It was actually her husband who recognised me, and he's only met me once, almost two years ago. That's what it's like in the world of professional eye care. We're all as blind as bats.


Poirot said...

Ha ha! Not paid for attention to details then?! C that is an amazing quilt.

Phil said...

I was keeping a closer eye on the food.