Some of the quilts I make have many hundreds of pieces. Pineapples, double wedding rings, one block wonders, and foundation pieced projects can be the compilation of intricate steps. Then there is something called cheater cloth.

Normally I eschew whole cloth blankets, not feeling comfortable even calling them quilts if there was no substantial effort involved. But in my stash there was a swath of gorgeous cat fabric that called to me. I decided there could be no improvement achieved by slicing and regrouping, so I let it be. The entire top consisted of a large panel, a green border, and another wide coordinated border. Done. I mean I still had to sandwich, quilt and bind it, but there was no challenge in that. No uncertainty either. 

On a whim I posted a picture of it on social media. In a short time there was a string of effusive compliments, praising my abilities. I laughed. Should I tell them? Or just let them enjoy what looked like a marvelous achievement? 

I realize that it isn't easy for a non sewer to differentiate between a difficult pattern and a simple one. Does that even matter? Perhaps the real question is whether it brings anyone joy seeing it, or cuddling under it on a chilly evening. 

There are outside observers that look inside at all of our lives, making assumptions about what was arduous and what was a cinch. They may not always match reality. Does it change anything? 

I don't know. But I am pleased with my cat quilt.