Bonnie recently wote a post about using new fabric versus scraps, and I really do identify with what she said. At no time in my life have I owned so much beautiful fabric, and had the resources to buy more when I felt like it. I should be sewing up these new fabrics in a frenzy, and yet over and over again I'm drawn back to the scraps, the leftovers, the old projects and the bits that have been given to me. I've been thinking about it quite a bit, because it doesn't make sense on the surface.

When I was really struggling, bringing up three boys on my own and counting every penny, I would have loved to be in this position now. To have bolts of new fabric sitting on the shelves, plenty for borders, for setting blocks, for backings; never having to worry about running out before the project was finished.I would have regarded this as heaven, and if I'd been told that I'd go back to my scraps in preference to this bounty I would have been sceptical.

Yet that's what I've been doing. I guess I feel attatched to this earlier stash in a way that I don't with the new fabrics, even though they are so beautiful. Back then I knew every fabric in my possession, where every piece had come from, and who had given me the smallest scraps. I handled them constantly and each piece had so many possibilities it was tantalising. I dreamed about them and drew quilt plans for them and thought about them in a way that I haven't with the new stuff.

I don't know if it is a question of having too much, or that I just don't have the same emotional investment. But I like the scraps that people are still giving me because they tie me to that 'past', when I needed to treasure and appreciate every tiny thing. The new fabric is lovely and tempting and delicious, but so often it gets stuffed in the drawers and doesn't really imprint itself on me before the next lot comes along. I probably 'play' with my scraps more than fondling the new fabric, which is strange.

I can't say I'm just busier now I've got my own business because I was run off my feet and stressed beyond belief back then. Life's a doddle now compared to what I used to fit in every day. Perhaps I needed my quilting more in those times as a way of being grounded and clinging to something that was just for me, a lifeline to sanity in some instances.

What ever the reasons, I can't abandon my scraps and move on solely to "The Good Stuff". I need my boxes of odd-bod strips and strange bits and pieces, and I still happily accept all the remnants that are offered to me. Keryn was looking through a new quilt book the other day and burst out laughing at this illustration. She says it reminds her of me.....

Well Bonnie, we can be 'rag muffins' together!