Serious Rippage...

Chugging right along this morning... having a high ole time... notice the tension on the bobbin seems a bit tight, but blythely ignore that... get some quilting in and then... yep, shouldn't ever ignore tension. It'll cause you more tension than would seem proportionate. Buggers! The top of the quilt was lookin' all loverly... while the back...sigh. This is what I call the "whited sepulchre" effect. You know, pretty on the outside, but inside- full of dead mens' bones. Simply won't do. I begin to pick and snip. I know how all quilters just love unsewing, and figure there was about a hundred miles of thread that needed undoing... seemed that way, anyway. About a four square foot area. Double buggers! In walks my hero... "Anything I can help you with?" His eyes start to get all sparkly as he realizes my predicament. Setting aside the obvious character flaw of saddistic glee over my pain, Jack is a sweet kid and absolutely loves to pick out my mistakes. This apparent saddistic inclination is one I am willing to overlook- at least until the pickin' and snippin' is done. So under the frame he goes. He rigs up a couple 5-gallon buckets and a package of batting- all comfy, he says. And he makes it so much easier. Usually, I snip every three stitches or so all along the top line of sewing. And then it's time to head to the nether side of the machine's dark underbelly- a more awkward space you could hardly imagine- at least it is dry and there are no critters- my cellar comes to mind of a more awkward and uncomfortable space. Here, I begin to pull on the bobbin thread and rip out the stitches this way. It is usally an up-down-up-down kind of dance, because there are always stubborn spots that require extra attention- like where the stitching suddenly changes direction. There was an exceedingly generous amount of changing direction in this quilt. Because the tension in the bobbin was very tight- I had a little thread caught from the wrong end of the bobbin... it makes a thrilling zipper-like effect everytime you make a curve. Straight, not so bad. Curve, very very bad. Can't take the bitter with the sweet in this instance. It all has to go. And go it did. It took us only 90 minutes to remove the bothersome stitching, and all the rag tag thread snippets- duct tape works wonders as a magnet for that and I am back in business. Fast. OK, I have decided that "fast" in the quilting realm deserves it's own alternate definition in the Webster dictionary. But thank you Jack- your Mama would have melted into a puddle of hysterical, "Why? WHY? WHY?" tears, without your cheerful assistance.