When I visit a fabric store the conversation at the cutting table often revolves around what am I going to do with whatever it is that is being cut. Depending on the store and how well they know me, what I am making sometimes brings about quite a bit of conversation.
Cutters find the fact that I am making blocks to swap with a couple dozen other quilters quite fascinating. They are amazed that I might make a quilt for a baby on the way half around the world. Some chuckle if I am buying something with no thought to what I might make of it.
They seem to think it exciting that I am making a quilt to fundraise for cancer. They are not sure what to think of making quilts for wounded soldiers. Sometimes customers in quilt shops are really caught up in their projects and can't imagine doing any charity quilts, much less as many of them as many of my friends do.
It is something to talk about.
But today was a conversation stopper.
While cutting my piece of gold satin, the cutter asked what I was making.
I answered--a funeral pall.
Pretty much stopped the conversation.
When we drove up to the audiologist's office and parked next to another silver Subaru Forester, I told hubby someone would come out soon and wonder what I was doing in his car. Hubby went in to get his aid serviced and I sat reading. Pretty soon I looked up and a strange man was opening the passenger side door. Quite startled when a strange woman said--"nope! Next one over." I looked across and his wife was laughing hilariously. Soon all three of us were.