Thursday, October 20, 2011


For the first time in fifteen years, I missed Pacific International Quilt Fest. I spent the weekend with family, so no feeling too sorry for me. Today I figured out what I missed the most about not attending.

First let me tell you that PIQF is a enormous quilt show with hundreds of quilts from all over the world (hence the International part). There is wearable art and plenty of creativity on display. Tens of thousands of quilters descend on the Santa Clara Convention Center for four days of classes, lectures, exhibits. And shopping. There are rows and rows of vendors, selling all things quilt-related. Even fiction, thankfully.

For a fictionalized version of this extravaganza, see my first book Wild Goose Chase. Dewey sets up a booth in a similar setting. Someone is killed with a rotary cutter in a place where at least a thousand identical rotary cutters can be found. Murder and mayhem.

But it wasn't the array of quilts that I missed, nor the decent soup in the luncheonette, or even the disseminating of my carefully hoarded PIQF spending money. It was my peeps.

For you see, I'd spent the weekend with folks who love sports. Any kind of sports but mostly soccer and football. I believe an important baseball game was going on, too. The TV was always tuned to sports. No HGTV, no Glee DVD. Not even The Good Wife. Did you know soccer starts at 8 AM on Saturdays? Those rabid British Manchester United fans have nothing on my family. Not a thing.

Conversations revolved around penalty kicks and trades and downs. My ears bled from the yelling at an interception. Dinners were rearranged to catch all the action.

Meanwhile at PIQF, women were dressed in colorful garb with hand made necklaces and bulging tote bags. They were talking about shot cotton and raw edge applique. People were buying ribbons, and new books, and patterns for purses they will never make. And I missed it!

These are women (and men, too) who think like me. Who are gobsmacked by a display of quilted table runners. Who swoon over a single pearl button. Who are convinced that they will never, ever, see this particular shade of rose hand dye again.

They are me. And I missed them. But there is always next year. For PIQF. And the Yankees.


Carol S said...

What would all those men do if every sport went on strike? What if quilters did belly-bumps or high-fives when they found that special rose-dyed fabric? Maybe it is a good thing wine is not served in plastics cups at quilt shows and all our rowdy quilting friends are in control of their senses. I am so thankful my DH is not a sports fan!!

Terri Thayer said...

Hi Carol,

I must say that these sports fans were not all men. No indeed. And no alcohol involved, either. Rowdy without imbibing!

I love the image of quilters doing belly bumps! And maybe a special end zone dance or Superbowl Shuffle. Thanks, Carol!

Linda O. Johnston said...

I know I'd have zoned out with all that sports stuff going on, Terri. I'd love to see all those quilts, though. Sounds delightful. But for me a Pet Expo or adoption event? Heaven!

Terri Thayer said...

At least puppies are cute, Linda!

Betty Hechtman said...

I know what you mean. I just came home from my knit and crochet group. They were interested in hearing I'd met Lily Chin and the crocher dude Drew Emborksy. We talked yarn and showed off what we were making.

Terri Thayer said...

We need our people, Betty!