Life & Times of a Quilter’s Husband-Chapter 1

I thought I would share some humorous thoughts and perspectives of my life of being married to a quilter. Now, to a quilter, this post may lead to a riot, as there is nothing funny about quilting. It is a serious business. Sit back and let’s see how much trouble I can get myself into. This could lead to being quartered, not by horses but by Yoga Massage Goats, which is a separate and true story. But I digress.

I didn’t know I was marrying a quilter or I might have run the opposite direction. For this discussion, let’s say instead to a woman who loves gardening or woodworking. You see, a woman with those hobbies couldn’t bring home half of the store because it was on sale. For sale is the oldest marketing ploy in mankind. Eve, I am sure, took a bite of the apple and immediately discovered her nakedness. Standing beside her was Satan offering fabric. On Sale. Thus, the story of the corruption of the female mind began. It was only perfected by fabric companies who also happened to sell machines, notions and items they may not even need, but pretend to need. For those older folks recall the $10 vacuum cleaner in I Love Lucy television show? She was suckered into buying $990 worth of attachments, which Ricky would scream “LUcee, how could you do that!? Adjusted for inflation that beautiful home cleaning tool became a sink hole investment of $99,999. On Sale. “Waaaagh,“ was be Lucy’s reply and Ricky winced and gave up in.

This was also the beginning of the “Stash” – the winner takes all control and possession of fabric that’s been on a sale rack since the Days of King Henry VIII. You’ve seen his portrait, yes, the one where he is draped in a California King quilt. The Stash can and will reside in the most ingenious hiding places in your home. Now, the Stash to a man is the failed attempt at growing a mustache, but to a woman a stash is a project in the making, maybe in the next century, which she will get to unless of course there is another sale. To preserve themselves to live long enough for these projects, they go on retreats to laugh, drink wine and consume chocolate, none of which was on sale. Were there any stash buster projects completed on these retreats? Of course not! They take a FART (Fabric Acquisition Road Trip) and get busy loading up the bus, politely not trampling one another.

Getting off the bus is fraught with danger. The toughest, seasoned shopping gals sit up front, which you dare not cross their demarcation line or war will ensue. The store is ransacked, while the cashier’s point of sale register is singing like a hot slot machine in Vegas. The credit card reader gives out a receipt and the clerk thanks you whilst reminding you that you just saved $150. Thus they can tell their husband that he is married to a financial wizard for the money she just saved. This is another tale that will require a much longer psycho analysis. Back on the bus, civility is restored and the fellowship of quilters safely returns to compare their bounty of loot.

Now, I’m an accountant. I know everything about everyone as well as how they make and dispose of their retirement resources. Fabric is not a position in a retirement portfolio. It pays no dividends. If you were to pass on, married to a quilter, just know they will simply drape you in a quilt and put you on the curb for rubbish pick up. Recall the crying out of a Monty Python skit, “Pick up the dead, pick up the dead, he’s draped in Kaffe Fassett Hydrangea – PWGP180-red!” This quilt will, of course, be the one the beloved pet had the only privilege of using for the last quarter century. The pet is the alter ego of your quilting wife. Try taking a quilt from a pet – it is like telling your wife she cannot go to the fabric store! It gets really ugly with snarling teeth and growling, and then pet joins in for good measure!

But I digress…yet again. I will dive into the real world of quilters and try to understand the deep psychological, biological, metaphysical, and hysterical motivations behind the madness. I will discover how I can offer you fabric. On sale. You see, the devil made me do it because even he has search engine optimization and profit in mind. I am sure Adam was the last to be dressed. Husbands are always second in line! Come back soon for Chapter 2…please, let there be goats!