by Sonja Hakala

They did it every year, Edie Wolfe and her friend Ruth Goodwin. Usually right after they’d both spent too much money on fabric during the Vermont Shop Hop.

“Really, we’ve got to use up some of what we’ve got in our stash,” Ruth would say as she struggled to find more space on her shelves for the batik fabrics she didn’t bother to resist because they were on sale.

“You’re right, you’re right. I know you’re right,” Edie would say.

And they’d make that solemn quilter’s promise to “not buy any more fabric until we use up a lot of our stash.” But the promise was usually made over wine and easily forgotten the next time fabric went on sale.

This year was different, however. It was the death of Genevieve Makepeace that did it.

Among quilters in Vermont, Genevieve was something of a legend. She was quilting back in the 1970s when concepts such as “quilt shops” and “quilting fabrics” were more or less unknown. When she moved off this earthly plain, Genevieve left behind more than 3,000 yards of fabric, all of which was sold to a wholesaler.

Believe me, that made everyone in the Shades of Emerald Quilt Guild sit up and count their own yardage, and think about how their families would cope with all their unmade projects.

Ruth and Edie decided that if they made a big production out of their annual promise and did it in public, they just might stick to it.

So when their guild got together for the annual post-holidays potluck supper, the two friends stood at the front of the room and vowed a genuine, sincere, heartfelt promise not to buy “any new fabric for a year.”

Off to the side, Agnes Findley collected money from the other quilters as they placed bets on how long the promise would last. The pooled money would be donated to the local food pantry, and the winner got bragging rights.

January slipped by. Then the end of February passed and March began. As far as their quilting compatriots could figure, neither Ruth nor Edie joined the annual quilt shop hop. “Do you suppose they’re going to make it all the way to the end of the year?” they asked one another, rather amazed by the two women’s willpower.

But…but…but…the end of March can be a challenging time. It’s way too cold and dreary to enjoy the outdoors and yet the sun is strong enough to heat a car’s interior. Up in the hills where folks in Carding like to hike, the frost is coming out of the ground making the paths a treacherous patchwork of puddles and half-frozen mud. And traveling by motor vehicle on anything but an interstate is a lot like driving a bouncy castle because of the frost heaves.

Cabin fever is real in late March in Vermont.

Finally Edie just couldn’t stand it another minute, and decided that frost heaves or no frost heaves, she was going to do a spring reconnoitering of her favorite charity shops. It’s always best to do something like that when you’re not looking for anything in particular.

So she bundled her cocker spaniel, Nearly, into the back seat of her car then headed west on Route 37, the two of them happy just to drive with the window rolled down a little.

First stop was the Re-New-Ables store. Edie’s favorite bang-around fall/spring jacket had come from Re-New-Ables. She loved it because no matter how dirty it got from gardening or hauling wood, it always came back refreshed from a trip to the washing machine.

Even though she had plenty of glassware and no shelf space for more, Edie idled in that section of the store anyway, caressing everything in the color blue. A small vase, perfect for a single rose, found its way into her basket. 

Next came the tightly-packed racks of clothes. You had to be very patient and persistent here but Edie was rewarded with silky black skirt and two lovely summer blouses, all three of them on sale from the already-remarkably-low prices.

Last but not least was household goods—mixing bowls, utensils, a few appliances (mostly waffle irons that never worked), casserole dishes, and a huge pile of fabric.

Edie did a double-take. Was it really yardage? It was, all cuts of a yard or more piled up in a huge box.

Was it any good? As any quilter can tell you, low-quality fabric can ruin a quilt. Sometimes it bleeds but most often it stretches out of shape, and that has an impact on every piece of fabric around it, skewing a whole block or quilt top. Tentatively, half hoping the fabric would be useless, Edie plunged her hand into the pile, and smiled at the feel of good quality cotton.

The fabric on top was a rather uninteresting green, too muddy in color to do much of anything for or against a quilt top. But just underneath was a sturdy dark red with a repeating small figure in black. Edie glanced around. There was no one else in sight. The red fabric slithered into her shopping basket.

She flipped the next two pieces over, both very dark brown, in order to inspect a large folded offering of swirling black and white interspersed with oversized butterflies. It was dramatic, yes, but as a backing for a quilt…well, it would be perfect.

Time slipped away as Edie plunged deeper and deeper into the pile, filling and then over-filling her shopping basket. She was in the midst of assessing a yard of bright yellow solid when a voice made her jump.

“Ha! Caught ya!” Ruth said.

Edie whirled around to see her friend, four full bags at her feet, grinning the grin of the deeply satisfied.

“Oh uh. Hmm, hi Ruth.” Edie felt blood rising to her cheeks, and she looked down at her soon-to-be-acquired pile of fabric feeling more than a little embarrassed. Then she looked at the four bags at Ruth’s feet.

They were all filled with fabric.

“Yeah, I got here before you,” Ruth said, splaying her hands wide. “I was just headed out to the car when I saw your Toyota. I figured you’d find this, too. Need a hand getting to the bottom of the pile?”

Edie laughed. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“No problem. You’re going to need a second shopping basket.”

“Or a truck,” Edie said as they plunged in together. “I do suppose that next year’s another year, am I right?”

Ruth sighed. “If at first you don’t succeed…”

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The Carding Chronicles are short stories written by author Sonja Hakala about the Vermont town that no one can quite find on a map. They feature the characters in the four Carding novels.

The Carding books are available from Amazon and the Chronicles appear here, on this website, every Monday. Hope to see you next week.