She wanted to make every quilt in the world and no two had dare be the same, not as long as she was in control. She did have a lot. She sewed a quilt and she either hung it or folded it and put it away or sent it to someone folded in a box. I haven't done it yet. Sometimes I do what I do and don't know why it comes out right.
Some quilts are like that.
I went to take my nap. The clock was just a blur as she shook me awake. I asked, expecting something to be really wrong, an earthquake or fire or a tree falling through our roof. What could be lumpy except my head which she had knocked against the headboard in her effort to awaken me. I folded and folded and sewed and it's a little lumpy.