Although I've always been considered a crafty person, I didn't start quilting until about 5 years ago. It began innocently enough... a friend to teach me, a bit of fabric, a table topper, a bit more fabric, a lap quilt, a bit more fabric, a magazine or two, a bit more fabric ... to ... a decent quilting library, 4 projects currently on the go, and a respectable fabric stash. When you live in a small Northern Ontario community, gathering fabric is a challenge, and finding just the right colour to tie your bits together usually takes a road trip.
We moved last year, and I gathered my bits of fabric in one place, out from under the bed, emptied from closets, collected from baskets ... my fabric collection had my husband rolling on the floor. He told all his friends we needed one trailer just for the fabric (good thing he didn't notice the library that goes with it). Since we were downsizing I sorted it through, and donated to friends and our quilt guild, and now I have only one closet full. I think it is empty under the bed, but I'm not going to check.
I think I have an addictive personality, and what harm can fondling good cotton, or just the right shade of blue do anyone? Although you will understand why I resisted the lure of scrapbooking for so long - I don't have any closet space left.
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