Last winter, during one of our seemingly-endless snow days in the Great Boston Snowpocalypse of 2015, my older daughter asked me to teach her to sew. Well, who am I to complain when my kid wants to make a quilt?
She picked her own fabrics, I did the cutting. She laid them out and sewed them all together with only the briefest of demonstrations (and the speed control on my machine turned way down). Her corners lined up surprisingly well, her quilting went a little more free-form than intended (it’s an artistic choice!) and she even did 95% of the binding on her own.
In just an afternoon, she had a completed quilt to show for her efforts. She was super proud of herself, and I was pretty darn impressed, too.
This week, she was at it again. Once again she chose her own fabrics and I did the cutting (not letting the eight-year-old wield the rotary cutter just yet), and this time I taught her how to use the iron. Last night she said to me, “do I have enough time before dinner to go work on my quilt?”
That’s my girl.