Last night, I dreamed that Queen Elizabeth was stealth-auditioning me for a spot in her quilting circle. She pretended she knew nothing about sewing American quilts and had me over to tea at her palace one evening to provide a demonstration. As she nibbled her scone, she made all sorts of approving noises over my tiny stitches when hand-piecing, but I suddenly realized I'd accidentally sewn through three layers of fabric instead of two.
I tried to cover up the fact that I was frantically picking out stitches by nattering on about the need to take a backstitch at least every inch for a strong seam ("see? right here? here's a backstitch...oh, and let me undo this a little further so you can see -- there's another one....) I saw her give a knowing sidelong glance to her secretary, ostensibly taking notes on my "lesson" to Her Majesty, and I knew all was lost. I was politely shooed out with the Brit equivalent of "don't call us, we'll call you."
What was THAT about?!
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment