At our cottage, if you put away the Halloween crows in witch hats because you're currently focused on velvet pumpkins, you'll probably start thinking about Christmas projects. And you'll remember the rocking horse that your dad gave your son decades ago and think how sweet it would be for your son's daughter to use it. And probably you'll realize that the rocking horse is stored in the basement. And you'll go to bed.
The next day you'll wake up thinking that it might be fun to repaint the rocking horse which used to be a dapple grey with a black mane and tail. And as you walk by the door to the basement (where the rocking horse is stored), you'll realize that a sleeping bag still needs to be put way. And you might as well do it now since you'd like to get the rocking horse out now, well before the holidays, so you can have it ready as a special gift for the littlest grand-daughter.
But you'll look at the sleeping bag and feel your skin crawl as you remember how hot and twitchy the bag felt when you used it during the quilt show/Fall Fest/slumber party.
Because you've never been cold since peri-menopause hit, and synthetics and memory foam give you the hot flash heebie-jeebies. Plus the whole University of California color scheme hasn't ever done it for you even if yellow is your favorite color. And then you'll remember the floral fabric you saw in the linen closet that morning when you changed the sheets.
A brief digression: fabric lives in the stash, this one floral alone is in the linen closet because during the summer you throw in on the (nylon) carpet when you sleep under the window if the bed gets too hot. Resuming.
Inspiration hits: six feet of fabric that's just barely misses being ugly plus a bag that needs a cotton lining equals an impromptu project. Because it's a three-day weekend and you don't have anything else really important nagging at you.
So you unroll and unzip the sleeping bag to lie flat and realize that the floral fabric is long enough but just a bit too narrow. You think to yourself that there might be some eighties-era hand-me-down fabric in the stash that won't be used for anything else.
So you'll sew them together knowing that the seam can be on the top of the bag so you won't have to lie on it. And really how could a seam be worse than the slick feel of the poly bag anyway? Sometimes rolling with it and not overthinking is a really good idea. You'll sew the cotton onto the bag using the longest and quickest machine stitch and the bobbin thread will magically last through the entire project, which never happens.
Then you'll decide to tie the layers together using some variegated blue embroidery thread which you know you'll never use but will match the cover, using the needles you bought at Bird Brains during the quilt show because Aunt Bette (K.C.'s aunt, not mine) said they were good for embroidery and her word is law. Thirty knots later you're finished. And the bag rezips without any cloth getting caught in the zipper so it's all good.
You now have a sleeping bag that you are looking forward to using at the next quilt get-together and during the summer and you didn't have to buy anything plus you used up some of your stash so win-win-win.
I don't know if you meticulously plan your days or your projects, but serendipity is a good thing around here. You've followed your whims on a chore that has nothing to do with any holiday and won't get used for another eight months or so but it's DONE and the sleeping bag gets rolled up and stored in the basement, and the rocking horse that started the whole process is unearthed and awaiting her makeover.
Then you preview your post and see the original velvet pumpkins you made in your header and realize you should upgrade that tute since you've evolved some new twists on attaching the stems...
And they lived happily, if somewhat distractedly, ever after. The End.