The Twilight Zone

You get out of your car and begin to walk toward the building. It is an otherwise normal day as you make your way closer to the entrance. Stepping through the threshold, you have just crossed over into (Twilight Zone theme playing in the background)....

THE FABRIC STORE

Okay, those of you who remember your parents watching the T.V. series "Twilight Zone" may be wondering, why the comparison? I'll tell you. That's exactly the way I felt when I entered Joanne's Fabrics this past weekend to buy the materials to make Shulamith's baby a quilt. Keep in mind that I do not sew. Not a single stitch have I ever sewn. I'm sure I went to fabric stores with my mom, who happens to be an excellent seamstress, when I was a child, but I truly can't remember much. Since then, I've been in only one, a very small store near here where Shulamith found the pattern for my mom to sew a blessing outfit using the fabric from my (our) wedding gown. This was a quick stop in a small store, nothing like what I experienced last weekend.

I decided to go to a big store because I thought they would have more quilt panels. How do I know about such things as quilt panels? Well, over ten years ago, when we lived in Washington, I had a friend who made baby quilts. They were so beautiful. I still have the one she made for Seth. I watched her make dozens of these quilts from start to finish; I watched the entire process over and over. And now, I'm determined that Shulamith's baby will have one of these quilts. Even if I have to sew it myself. Ha! This is a true exercise of faith, my friends, because I seriously don't do this type of thing. I suck at anything hands-on, other than typing on a computer keyboard.

But I do remember the basics, at least I think so. You need a quilt panel. That is like the front of the quilt, the part with cute baby stuff on it. Then you need a solid color for the back that matches the panel. Then you need this white fuzzy stuff to put in the middle to make it soft. So yeah, that's why I headed to Joanne's Fabrics in Taylorsville, aka "The Twilight Zone."

I walked into the store and was immediately overwhelmed. Like totally. It was so BIG! Oh my goodness. Rows and rows of reams of fabric were everywhere. How could someone as incompetent as I ever make sense of it? Does the image "deer in headlights" mean anything to you? That was me. It was so bright, and there was so much fabric I was practically frozen in fear. Hesitantly, I made my way up to the central customer service area and said sheepishly, "I, uh, want to sew a baby quilt. Do you have such things as 'panels'?" The saleslady pointed to the back corner of the store and said, "In the nursery area." Well that makes sense. They have a nursery in a fabric store?

I headed back in the direction I was given, and sure enough, there was a huge section of fabric, all with baby/children's designs. There must have been ten rows of it. I had no idea how to begin. How could I determine which were the panels and which were just reams of regular fabric? I must have looked just as helpless as I felt because this lovely human being came up to me and asked if she might help. Yes, she was an employee there, but get this: she had just clocked out and was off for the day. What do want to do when you finally get off from a long day at work? Help incompetent women find baby quilt panels?? No! You want to go home. And she must have wanted that too; nevertheless, she stayed and helped me find what I needed. She said the only way to tell if the ream contained quilt panels or regular fabric was to pull it out and look. Really? I have to pull all these out and then roll them back up? I must have looked even more frustrated because she pulled one out to show me. It was an adorable panel in browns and blues with monkeys and giraffes. "Perfect," I exclaimed, thinking the sooner I picked something, the sooner I could get out of there.

Since the panel was flannel, she then took me to the plain flannel section to select a matching back piece. By this point, I could barely function, so she picked out a nice navy, and I said, "Great." Then she asked if I had thread. And needles. And pins. No, no, and no. Why would I have that stuff? She gathered all of the above and directed me to the place where they cut up the fabric into the amount you need. I thanked her profoundly, said goodbye, and took my place in line to wait not so patiently. I really just wanted to get out of there. Finally, my fabric was cut, and I was able to go up front, pay, and escape.

That was last week. Thus far, I've done nothing with all this stuff except look at it and wonder why I ever thought I could do this. However, once this set of never-ending essays is graded, I will lay out the quilt pieces the way my friend used to and pin the whole thing together. I know that's the first step. After that, I will use the thread and needle to stitch around the designs on the front of the quilt panel. I think this much I can do. What do I do with the edges of the quilt? I have no idea. My friend used to put ruffles around the edges. I don't know how she did that. I'll worry about the edges later.

Do not adjust your television set. Do not attempt to control the dial. You are traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. Next stop: The Fabric Store.