Serendipity

Now that I have a studio with a door, I can keep the cats away from my fabric. But back in the day, I lived in a studio apartment with a youthful Finny, and there was no cat-free place to sew unless I wanted to move my sewing machine into the shower.

Finnegan always had a lot of dignity, even as a kitten, so this was not usually too much of an issue. He would make a little nest in my scraps, or would come over and supervise from a respectful distance; and I was lulled into believing he wasn’t interested enough to mess with anything.

So when I couldn’t get one layout quite right, I went ahead and left it lying on the floor. It looked like little boxes, and was pretty neat, but… I just wasn’t quite satisfied. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Each time I went by, I’d stare at it, move a block or two, and then resolve to figure the rest out later. I was well and truly stuck.

Finally, I guess, the intelligent one in the apartment had had enough of the dithering. He went tearing through the room, galloping across the bed, stampeding through the papers on my desk, and – you guessed it - rocketing through the middle of the blocks on the floor.

When the proverbial dust settled, my blocks were lying every which way. I couldn’t remember where any of them had originally been. I was so disappointed.

But, serendipitously, he had actually done me a favor. Once I had put the blocks into the box formation, I had pretty much locked myself into that configuration. Finn’s wild rumpus shook things up and made me start over from scratch. The freedom of beginning afresh was exactly what the quilt needed, for it enabled me to find a layout I finally loved.