The Steps to a Runner

So about three weekends ago, before life got a little crazy, Mom and I whipped up a little table runner.  If you will remember with me, I bought the fabric and embarrased myself with a little slipper/shoe incident a looooong time ago and my inspiration came from Anthropolgie -- my favorite store which I can't afford except for the sales.  

We finally got down to getting it done and I'm actually quite proud of myself because I did 90% of the sewing myself.  Of course Mom was there to fix anything that went bananas, but still.  

So without further ado...the steps to a runner...for your table.  I have no advice on how to become an actual runner.  

First, you do a ridiculous amount of math because you don't have a pattern. 

I'm talking a seriously ridiculous amount of math; so much so the Pythagorean Theorem was busted out.  That's serious. 

Then, you have your mom cut the fabric into the correct size pieces because you don't trust yourself with sharp objects.  All because of one incident with a squash the day before Thanksgiving that ended in stitches.  And, please don't be alarmed by the lack of a fingertip in this picture.  That is not from the squash cutting incident; this is Mom's finger.  It's caused by a little mishap known as "Are you fingers clear?  Are you sure they are clear?"  "AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"  "They weren't clear!!  They weren't clear!!"  between Mom and Brother that occured on a fine fall day with a trailer.   

Next up is to line all of those little pieces up and organize them so they are exactly how you want them. 

Then, you get sidetracked and take a picture of thread and want to say to yourself, "Oh pretty thread" instead of "Oh pretty bird." 

After that, you get back to business and finalize the plan before you start to sew. 

Next is to start sewing.  You take two pieces that are next to each other and connect them right side to right side leaving a quarter inch seam allowance.  All the while reminding yourself it's time to paint the good ol' nails again.   

While you get the next strip ready, you have your mom iron the seam you just sewed. 

Then, you sew on the next strip right side to right side yet again. 

That's right.  You have your mom do the ironing again. 

Next, you sew the next strip right side to right side.  How long do you want me to keep saying and posting pictures of this?  Huh?  Huh? 

After that, you realize no one wants to see anymore pictures of the same thing over and over again, so you just get your little self busy sewing and finish the top.  Voila! 

The crazy finger makes its debut again to "fussy" cut the squares for the top.  Fussy cut means to actually pick out what part of the fabric you want to show.  It's not random.  It's fussy.    

Then, you iron the edges of those squares all in so they look finished and you forget to take pictures of those steps because you were so worried about burning your fingers.  Your mom left you stranded to tend to others so you had to that tricky ironing on your own.  No time for the camera.  No time.  After all of that hard ironing, you lay out the squares how you would like them on top of the runner.  If you are feeling really sneaky, you can make some triangles out of those squares. 

Pin people.  Pin. 

Then, Mom comes back to you and she practices the top stitch to do around the squares and triangles. Your heart sings because you like it that much. 

After seeing the concentration it takes to sew that top stitch, you make your mom do that part because you know you have the concentration of a flea. 

You admire people.  Admire. 

Have your mom finish the top stitching because she did such a smashing job. 

Admire again people.  Admire again. 

Then, you go home because your eyeballs are coming out of your head and you are tired.  The runner is not  complete though, it has to be quilted.  So the next weekend, you go back to your parents' house and finish it.  It has to get a filling and then you have to do this "stitch in the ditch" thing on top of every seam.  You don't take a single picture of that whole process.  Why?  Because you are just cool like that.  You don't need to.  When it's done, you go eat some cake at Sil's house and come home and put it on your table.   

You realize in your heart of hearts that the rooster is so very necessary in your dining room; so very, very necessary. 

I don't know if you can get much more detailed directions than that.  Never mind I gave you no measurements, no settings, and didn't take pictures of many important things.  I don't want to spoon feed you though, that would just make you lazy and dependent.

Happy sewing!