She visited with her attorney that morning and listed the quilt as a charity quilt, with the estimated amount she would spend on the fabric, backing and batting as well as the thread. If she did not finish it before she passed away, the blocks would go to her quilt guild where someone would kindly piece them together and finish the quilt for her close to what she intended. Once the quilt was finished and bound, the guild would then donate it to charity.
She had joked in her younger years that she would sew money into unfinished projects (and still might this week, she thought), and leave clues and pattern directions. As her nieces finished the projects, they could locate the cash. She had not worked out all the necessary steps but thought of sewing pockets into a few of the blocks and stashing some cash. Since this would likely end up a charity quilt, she realized she knew first-hand how much an extra few dollars at the right time could mean to a person.
Alas, for now, she had to plan a quilt, but this last one eluded her. She wanted it to be special and daring. She knew that would be hard to trump given her previous quilts. She no longer feared any technique and conquered the difficult Bargello technique many years ago. The Bargello involved sewing many strips together, cutting them at various widths ranging from one inch to two and a half inches that were then staggered and pieced back together. They looked tough as the dickens, she thought, but were actually simpler than expected once a quilter found her groove. She thought they made great wedding gifts. She had tried applique, sewing the design on top of the fabric sometimes using adhesive, and even managed a small non-traditional Trapunto quilt, a whole cloth quilt with an all-over design stitched into the top. She decided that was the most challenging. Alas, she needed a quilt suitable for her last quilt. Darcy decided to let it stew for a while and ask around.
The asking began at the board meeting, where those spry sixty-year olds were poo-pooing the suggestion that she would ever pass over. “Darn it,” she replied, “I’m joining my dear Matthew someday,” she replied.
“It’s not like you don’t already haunt his ghost as you’ve promised him for years. How many quilts have you consulted him about?”
“Every single one since his passing five years ago. He still grumbles about helping me, too. Alas, really, which quilt would be your last?”
“Get back to us next week,” Francine suggested, hoping Darcy would forget.
