You know that good feeling? That feeling of accomplishment as you are sailing along in a project, getting stuff done, making good time. And then the feeling when it all comes screeching to a halt because of something like this:
Yeah, that patch was just a smidge on the skimpy side, but it was holding together just fine with the paper patch on the back. And then I ripped the paper off and it was quickly evident that there was just not enough seam allowance to keep it together. Exacerbated by the fact that the fabric itself is all vintage and slightly fragile. Sigh.
So, what to do. Well, first of all a good old temper tantrum was called for. I threw the whole thing across the room in disgust and sulked in front of the television for awhile. Stupid darn thing. Rackin' Frackin' pain in the.... *insert less internet friendly curse words here*.
But you know, I couldn't just ignore it and hope it would go away. Its not going to be my quilt, it is a quilt that is looking forward to living with another family who will love and cherish it and also, are waiting for it to arrive. So it couldn't just be thrown into the UFO pile to be ignored with the failures and the problems and sundry sewing related issues with which I do not want to deal. No, this problem had to be rectified. So off I went, in search of another patch to repair it with. And carefully the offending patch was removed. There are days when I am so grateful to the woman who invented the stitch ripper.
And you know, not to brag, but I was very, very happy with the repair.
What had seemed so annoying was now so satisfying. When it was done of course; while I was actually doing it I still very, very annoyed. But when it was in, and pretty much invisibly mended I felt like the ninja of handsitiching. Take that seemingly unsolvable problem!