For reasons I cannot explain I did not make a single quilt from last Christmas to Mother's Day. That is a long time to stay away from my shelves of luscious fabrics, and yet that is what happened. Especially considering the weather during that period which included a bit of snow. 

But the creative force returned with gusto, and between then and now I finished over fifty. Mind you some were baby sized, or wall hangings. The queue of projects was finally empty, at least until a friend brought over more t-shirts to transform into a lap quilt. As you probably noticed yourself if you live in the Northern hemisphere this summer has been toasty, occasionally dipping into sweltering. Yet the needle kept poking up and down through layers of cloth even as the sweat dripped from my forehead. 

This week the nights have turned. The fan went off in our bedroom, and John tossed another quilt on the bed. Even the ones on the couches are being pulled into service for the first time since June. It seems out of sync, that when it was cold I made no quilts, but when it was hot I did. It remains to be seen whether the urge will wane with the changing leaves. 

I know almost nothing about car engines, except that I like it when they work and am disgruntled when they need repairs. Still I have a vague awareness of pistons that go up and down, and that it is that very rhythm that propels the car forward. As if they are always trying to catch up with each other, and the fact that they never can keeps the motor running. I guess there must be at least a passing moment when they are side by side. Feel free to instruct me as long as the explanation is not more than two sentences. I have a short attention span for mechanics. 

Sometimes I feel like John and I are often out of sync. He is feeling chatty when I have things to do. I want a hug when he is preoccupied. He wants to apologize when I am still stewing. I think we should tidy up when he wants to relax. 

Yet we are inextricably tied to one another, and out of necessity ought to keep this family running. 

The handy thing about having plowed through lots of quilt blocks in August, when I didn't need them, is that I need them now. 

Maybe one day John and I will no longer work against each other. It is my hope anyway. I think when we reach the season of our best selves there will be no friction, and we can sail along without the need for combustion.