Double Trouble

I thought myself so clever when I decided on the name Double Trouble for this doll-sized quilt.  it measures 17 x 22 inches and is machine pieced and machine quilted.

"Double" for the Double Irish Chain pattern, the Civil War Era "double pinks" repro fabric I used,  and the fact that this quilt is one of a pair of twin quilts: one for a friend and it's double for me.

"Trouble" for my personal troubles in facing my fears about quilting those 2" mini-feather wreaths in in the open blocks.

But I ended up wondering if I could have jinxed myself with that clever little name.

Although I have never had problems with it in the past and actually couldn't find any information online other than rave reviews of the Sewline fabric marking pencil ... the pink pencil marks made by the ceramic  lead pencil resisted several efforts to remove them. How frustrating after facing my fears and finally finishing the quilt that it might be ruined. If you look closely at the photo in my earlier blog post about this quilt, you can see those troublesome pink pencil marks. I ended up facing NEW fears that I might ruin the finished quilt with attempts to get the pink pencil marks out ... but I did face them and ultimately triumphed. Only the label show signs of intense cleaning ;-)

Once finished, I was excited to pack it up and send it off to its new home.  Tuesday afternoon, I headed off the post office.  On the way there, I realized I forgot my phone and had nothing else in my bag to pass the time if the line was long–working the NYT crossword puzzle on my iPhone is my default way to amuse myself when waiting in line or in Doctor offices if I have no handwork with me.  Sure enough, when I got to the downtown Dallas post office, the line was really long and there was only one clerk working the counter.   I waited, I waited, I waited, I got to the counter, opened my bag to pull out my wallet and . . . remembered that it was sitting on my desk at home.  When I told the clerk that I'd have to run home and come back, I could tell that she didn't think I'd make it in time.  "We close at five," she reminded me.  I quickly walked back, picked up my wallet, my phone and, on my way out of the building, my mail.  I was anticipating another long wait in line and, the second time around, at least, I would be prepared with stuff to read and do while I waited.  When I got to the counter the second time,  the clerk remembered me and couldn't believe I'd made it in time.  I think the fact that I had sprinted across downtown was obvious–I was out of breath and "glowing."

I left the Post Office hoping that the curse of the Trouble name stopped with me . . . and that this little quilt will travel swiftly and safely to my friend.