Case in point.
While I moved furniture in and out (and round and round) - my mother gathered her scraps.
While I surfed the net for used machines, patterns, classes, photos (and let's face it when you are on surf mode eventually all roads lead to Farmville) my mother picked out blocks from a sampler book.
While I endlessly moved squares around on my *new* design wall - my mother measured, cut and began to sew.
While I signed up for a hand quilting class ... and acquired my hoop, my "betweens" and my hand quilting thread - my mother decided to just "do it". No special needle. No hoop. No lessons.
Needle in. Needle out.
And where are we now?
My mother has a beautiful quilt for a grandchild. And me? I have 63 more rows of virtual land to hoe - plus the crows are eating my neighbour's corn!