Tales Of A Brazen Hussy

Once every two months I have an appointment in a town south of here. It takes me an hour to drive there.

And the rest of the day to come back.

Because I visit all my favourite haunts. Taking, as my old teacher, The Mag, said, when explaining how a donkey gets up a steep hill, both sides of the road with me. Not that I'm comparing myself to a donkey, although there are those who might gleefully jump at such an opportunity!

My first stop last week, after my appointment, was at Rainbow's End, the mother of all quilt shops. A place in which I could blissfully spend an entire day...I don't need to go into a quilt shop, any quilt shop, ever, until I'm ninety, by which time I may have run out of fabric, and my quilting tools just might be a tad worn out and need to be replaced.


But before you berate me for my lack of backbone, let me hasten to tell you that I was on a very important mission. In hot pursuit of a pattern I'd spotted on a previous visit. From which to make upcoming birthday and Christmas gifts.

I planned to show great restraint, to take a deep breath at the door, plunge in, and walk purposefully to the back of the store where the patterns are kept, looking neither to left nor right. I would find my pattern, do an about face, pay, and get the hell out of there before those siren fabric bolts could tempt me off my straight and narrow course!

I could hardly keep the simpering smirk off my face, so virtuous did I feel.

But, Fate conspired against me. The one pattern I needed was the one they'd run out of. Popular pattern. Go figure.

After a brief interlude of mental hand wringing, I devised a cunning plan! I would check the back of the designer's other patterns for her contact information, and, could I be so brazen, call her? She lives right there, in that smallish town.

As soon as I was back in my car I dialed her number.

What were the chances she'd be home?

What were the chances she'd think I was a brazen hussy for disturbing her?

A friendly female voice answered. Yes, she had the pattern. She'd be delighted to mail it to me. She'd even throw in a bonus pattern she'd designed that wasn't for sale in the stores yet! Lucky I'd called when I did since she was just going out the door. She'd pop it in the mail while she was out!

I gave her my address and she was about to hang up, when I thought of something---didn't she need my credit card number?

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll enclose an invoice," she assured me.

Now, I'm a trustworthy person, but I don't expect total strangers to realize that.

Any doubts I'd had, about being brazen enough to call, quickly evaporated! The pattern arrived the very next day. The invoice was for exactly what I'd have paid for the one pattern in the store, and true to her word, she'd included the bonus pattern! You'll see it one of these days---when I finish it!

Meanwhile, back at Rainbow's End....I'd come sooooo far! It really would be a shame to leave without at least a peek at the sale shelves. If you're a quilter I'm sure you'll agree. So, with my backbone liquefying on the spot, I had a teeny tiny peek....



And found these fabrics, at fifty percent off. It would have been irresponsible to leave them there. Christmas is coming for the snowmen; the cream will make a perfect backing for my sister's quilt, which will be getting made any decade now; and the pumpkins are perfect for some place mats I'm making right now......

But I've sworn off quilt shops, for at least six months....

Unless you call and beg me to accompany you because you are shy, or bashful, and absolutely must have a brazen hussy along to give you courage......