This weekend found us escaping the heat at an indoor flea market. We are all willing participants, even the girls hate to miss an adventure with us, but no matter how hard I try to go and 'just look', I usually encounter failure. Such was the case Saturday. First, it was a few vintage photographs, then some game cards, then an autograph book, all easily tucked inside my purse, lest the family know of my fall.........add a bag of handmade lace.
Then I rounded the corner and saw a rack of scrappy, cutter quilts. Yes, my dear friends, my drug of choice. I was calm, I was casual. I was selective. I tried, really, I tried. D. approached as I was I gazing upon the beauty and even held a side for me to get a better look, turning it over to look at the back- he is well trained and could easily be my drug dealer. Without comment or concern, he walked away. Being the junkie that I am, I put his voice on every positive thought going through my mind, but really, how many junkies actually have reasonable negative thoughts at the moment of their fall? Oh, of how lovely it is, so liberated, great use of solids, wonderful scraps, so many stories within the leftover blocks, and TWO sided to boot! It's like two quilts for the price and storage of one, why wouldn't I buy it?