There is nothing like a quilt show for a quilter.
Everywhere, eye candy hangs from the walls. Perhaps an inherited antique.
Perhaps something unfinished from Mother's cedar chest, hand quilted by friends.
Walking through the maze, you hear other quilters "ohh" and "ahh" over the same quilts that draw you across the aisle to get within smelling distance of a quilt just so you can study a quilters stitches or pattern.
Or their re-interpretation of an old pattern. The murmer of the white glove ladies pointing out something specific and beautiful about a particular quilt selected as a favorite.
Or, a quilter explaining to a friend why a particular quilter's use of color makes a quilt special.
Or stumbling up on the recreation of the old family pattern.
Or a new quilter exclaiming "I could never do that!" while you smile smugly to yourself and think, "You don't know what you'll be able to do yet."
Maybe it's explaining to a daughter how just two fabrics can be perfectly combined...
To create something of infinite complexity.
Or hearing a quilter explain shading to a friend. (Ohh, I'd love to remake this quilt.)
Unfortunately, the aforementioned daughter was more interested in the miniatures, which are way above her level.
So, then we had lunch.
Take care. I'm about to put that orange Linus quilt in the old Bernina and quilt it up. I hope.