People think the sewing machine is where a quilt happens. It ain't. It's the ironing board.

I got a little Rowenta I bought used off a woman in Irondale maybe fifteen years back, and I keep it right by the window. Press a seam, open it up, look at it, press it again. Half my decisions get made standing right there. A strip'll look like nothing on the table and then you press it flat and all of a sudden that shade of gold is arguing with the red next to it and you know you got to tear it out.

My granddaughter came by Sunday and asked why I don't just use the steam setting like everybody else. Baby, steam is for wrinkles. I want heat and a dry board and my own two hands telling the cloth where to lay.

I've got a piece on the wall right now, nine blocks in, and I've pulled four apart this week. Every one of them looked fine till I pressed it.

Anyhow. That's where I'll be today.