I have a friend named Stephanie.
We went to school together from elementary through high school.
Then we each went away to college, got married, had babies, blah blah blah and met back up on Facebook a few years ago.
A lot of our conversations are about sewing and quilting.
You see, Stephanie and her mom make some stunning quilts.
Me? I’ve never made an actual quilt.
I started one about 8 years ago, but I was in over my head and never finished it.
Then I made what could loosely be called a quilt a few years ago.
But it is more of a blanket than a quilt.
I had mentioned to Stephanie that if we lived closer, I would have her teach me to make a quilt.
Well, she didn’t forget about that and this week sent me the best present.
I mean, like, the best present evah.
This here is all the fixins to make my very own quilt.
A for real quilt, not a pretend one like I made a few years ago.
She included all the fabric, detailed instructions and even a spool of thread.
My job is to put the quilt top together, mail it back to her and she will piece all the layers together and do the fancy work on her very fancy machine.
I mean, really. I’d be telling a lie if I said that I didn’t cry a little when I opened the box.
And then I cried a little more when I read her note, because besides being a quilting maven, girlfriend is funny. She even included a Ryan Gosling bit and you all know how funny I think Ryan Gosling is, right?
I did have some trouble actually receiving the package because of a little snafu with Customs. I got a letter saying that my package was being held and that I needed to provide specific documentation within a fortnight (yes, it actually said fortnight) or else it would be returned to the sender.
Apparently, one mom sending fabric to another is suspicious activity.
Luckily a local Luxembourgish guy at Shawn’s work helped me sort it all out.
Then they tried to deliver the package to our house and no one was home to claim and sign for it. So the next day I was able to pick it up at la poste, the post office. I may have squealed when the woman handed the box to me. And I think I skipped down the steps on the way back to my car.
So, thank you, Stephanie.
You are beyond sweet and generous and thoughtful.
You made my day, my week, maybe even my year.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a quilt to make.