Ok, enough reminiscing. Enough nostalgia. Enough of last year. 2013 is about to close, and I'm still wondering what happened in 2012. Do you ever feel like blocks of time have just disappeared? Fallen off the face of the earth? Like, I can't remember what I did from June through August in 2012. Or 2013, if we're going to be honest. I mean, I KNOW I loaded a bazillion people on half a bazillion trains. I know I answered all the tourist questions, most of them with a smile. I know I made people's dreams come true. (That last one is up for debate, depending on which tourist and which dream.) And I'm not being dirty. But when I look back on the summer - 2012 or 2013 - I can't remember what I did besides all that fun. I'm certain I made cookies on Sunday afternoons. I'm pretty sure I fed my cat on a regular basis, seeing as she's still here. But that's it. The rest is a blank. All that stuff about living in the now and enjoying the moment, I think I took it all to heart so well, that the moment's have now escaped me. I suppose this is a good thing, right? If I were still an avid scrapbooker, I could look back on my pictures and funny little notes written on favorite restaurant napkins, and then the little thought balloon would pop up above my head and I'd slap my palm against my forehead and suddenly remember that there were moments above and beyond those that occurred on the depot's loading platform. Unfortunately, I am only an avid scrapbook paper collector, so instead of nostalgic books of remembrance lining the bottom shelves of my bookcases, I get to thumb through my pretty collection of 12"x12" papers and think to myself "Did I buy this at the cute little scrapbook store in Payson or was it at Joann's in Juneau?" What I do know, amidst all the random and completely useless trivia that hogs the majority of prime real estate in my head, is that during this past summer, or the one before, I did not do any quilting. Oh, I'm pretty sure I bought fabric, which temporarily salved my guilty conscience and made me think that I was quilting, but nope, didn't break the machine out. Not once.
Sad. Sad. Sad.
I used to look at all these gorgeous blogs, and scroll through pages and pages of beautiful quilts and chastise myself for not using my time wisely, or some other cliched reprimand. "Allyson, you have the same 24 hours in a day as anyone else. Prioritize. Focus. Make time." It's not that I'm a time waster. Cause I'm not. Although I can't remember exactly what, I am sure I have very good reasons for my quilting absence. A mountain needed to be climbed, dog needed to be walked (oh yeah, I got a puppy. More on him later. He's really cute!), Canada needed me to come explore their bounty of cute little roads leading nowhere. Trails needed to be walked, lakes needed people to lounge on beach towels on the sandy shores, sometimes the gym called me, but not very often.
And so it is, on one of those long Sunday afternoon drives, with the car full of friends and fresh baked goods, that I decided I am still a quilter. I just took a break. Kind of like I did with my blog. Sometimes I just don't WANT to quilt. Or blog. The two are not always synonymous, but in this case, they seem to go hand in hand. Thank goodness it eventually cycles back around. Otherwise, I could say I'm a lot of things and just not do it. Like I'm a runner, but I just don't feel like running. But nope, I can attest to being a quilter. I still get that rush from running my hands over perfectly stacked piles of fabrics. I still add pins to my Quilty Things board on Pinterest, with the high hopes of someday making all of my favorites. I think I have somewhere around 1800 pins on that board, so that would be a really, REALLY high hope, but hey, a girl can dream.
So, I think I'll start quilting again. Cause I really want to.