The local quilt store has asked me to teach a few classes. In December we will offer a star pattern which will of course look festive in greens and reds, and in January there will be a t-shirt workshop. I have already begun taking notes, and scratching out fabric estimates. When I sew on my own, using yardage from my shelves, there is no need to keep tabs on the time it takes or exactly how much cloth was used up. I start cutting, and quit glancing at the clock. 

 

But once you step into explaining the process to someone else, it behooves you to spell out the particulars. Students do have to bring materials, and agree to a time commitment. I have myself paid good money for classes at shows, and arrived with the supplies only to find out that we never needed some of them. That was annoying, especially if I took pains to collect them. 

 

There is also the issue of articulating those parts of the process of creating a quilt that have seeped into your skin. I am comfortable with which seams need to be reinforced with reverse stitches, and which are best left alone. I understand the effects of a background fabric that competes for attention vs one that lets the star be the star. I have finished enough t-shirt quilts to be confident about the layout, and can include a myriad of colors to best advantage. 

 

But how am I at describing it? 

 

Before GPS people used to ask each other for directions. As the giver and receiver of such information, I knew that it was not always easy. Some road signs become so familiar as to disappear, and elude our efforts to name them. Which makes it dicey to pass them on. 

 

Finding our way in marriage, and mothering, can benefit from such willingness to ask for help.