This is a story about basting.

This is a story about basting. A story where the good guys face battles of epic proportions. A story where our hero tackles insurmountable odds. Terror and grief are at every turn, yet somehow in spite of all that, our hero forges on...

We'll skip the chapter where our hero realizes she's bought purple fabric. We'll move past the battle with Auspost in which the fabric arrives in a mutilated envelope. We join the story after the backing is picked, the batting is purchased and it is time for our hero to baste.

Let's make it clear from the beginning that our hero hates basting. The process brings her no joy whatsoever. She's tried a million methods -- the two board approach, floor-taping, pins, spray. None of it makes her happy.

Before she can baste though, she must finish another quilt which has all of her basting pins. It's a small light grey and blue number that she lost love for many months ago. She has no interest in quilting it. She gets three lines in and concedes it just isn't happening. Hastily, she unpins the quilt and chucks it to the side.

Our hero has a new weapon in her arsenal that she hasn't used in the past in her basting battles. Our hero now owns a table. Thrilled at the prospect of not crawling around on her hands and knees, she rushed down the road to the hardware store. She bought clamps. She bought a lot of clamps. She was building her basting army.

And a good army it was. She neatly secured the backing, batting and quilt top with their help. Then the pinning began...

It started well enough. Then she ran out of pins less than halfway through the quilt.  "Where the hell are all my basting pins?" she thought. Then she remembered. Her partner in crime had been throwing them out all year long. They looked like bent, useless crap to him. She held a moment of silence for her loyal comrades lost somewhere at the bottom of the tip. With most of her army missing, she almost aborted the mission.

With not-so-quiet resolve, she loudly cursed that she would not be ironing the front and back again. She rattled her brain and looked around for ideas. Not to be thwarted by this minor set back, she pulled out the pins and reached for the some thread. She'd never hand-basted before, but she felt cornered with no other choice. 

With no time for Youtube videos, she threw caution to the wind and made up her own method. As she eased herself into it, the long running stitches were surprisingly fun. The bright threads chosen for contrast unexpectedly looked good. A small smile appeared on our hero's face.

Not only had she saved the day and won the basting battle; she had fun in the process and decided to go a new direction with the quilting because of the basting battle - a direction she hadn't considered before. She felt proud and smart and strong. She wanted to yell to the world: 

Go forth and be your own hero. Try new things. You might just surprise yourself.