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Close to Nowhere By Linda Jones
Nashville cats...
Nashville Cats Nashville Cats, play clean as country water Nashville Cats, play wild as mountain dew Nashville Cats, been playin’ since
they’s babies Nashville Cats, get work before they’re two Well, there’s thirteen-hundred and fifty-two Guitar pickers in Nashville... — The Lovin’ Spoonful
This
past week there may have been thirteen-hundred and fifty-two guitar
pickers in Nashville, but they were far outweighed by the
“thread
pickers” — quilters filled the city and if Jane and I were
any
example, we were all playing wild and clean (OK, washing fabric does
count as clean!).
I’m
not sure how many have
been quilters since they were babies though. Most of us didn’t
begin
sewing/quilting until we were at least 8 or 9 years old.
Jane
and I, faithful traveling companions we, left early Thursday morning,
along with my granddaughter Meredith (who really did begin quilting at
9 years old).
We
were doing something
delightfully different this year — we actually stayed at the Gaylord
Opryland Hotel, which is where the quilt show is held.
It
was wonderful — both the quilt show and the hotel. We didn’t
have to
ride shuttles, drive all over the city, park and walk for 9,000 miles
— the valet parked the car when we got there and except for treating
Meredith to the Rainforest Cafe, it stayed parked, while we roamed the
quilts and the vendors.
I
was determined that
this year, I was not going to buy fabric for a major quilt! One year I
bought a Psalms quilt kit; the next year I bought Dick and Jane for a
quilt; and the next year, I bought Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz fabric.
I
do have to mention that none of those quilts have been made yet. The
Psalms quilt has been started; and this year, I bought a pattern for
Dick and Jane.
I
have this terrible, haunting
fantasy that was only inflamed by this latest quilt trip — I have
visions of my carport closed in and standing proudly, among a myriad of
shelves and fabric, a long-arm quilting machine!
One
of the Gammills (which is my fantasy) comes in purple. It was all I
could do not to start throwing money at the Gammill folks and drag one
of those home.
Unfortunately
(maybe fortunately),
at the price of a computerized Gammill, I wasn’t wagging
anywhere near
enough money to throw at them. I’d have to sell my house,
which would
mean I wouldn’t have a carport to close in...
The
best things, though, about quilt shows, are the quilts! These were
spectacular and all I want to do now is sew, piece and quilt...
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