Stitchling

Having finished basting hexagons, I removed the carefully stacked and counted things from their baggies and dumped them into a tote, and shook the daylights out of it.

A photo from above of a grey tote box full of golden fabric hexagons basted around paper pieces, tossed like waves and brightly lit by a shaft of sunlight.
I got a pocket, got a pocket full of SUNshine...
That kinda worked. I resorted to scooping my hands through the bin (much like we used to do with the potatoes for fries when I worked at a burger joint) to help distribute the patterns more thoroughly. Cotton quilting fabric that's been pressed together for months tends to stick pretty well, though, and I'm still finding pairs and little mini-stacks of the same print occasionally.

A white hand cradling two yellow fabric hexagons seamed together, with a small needle pinned between outstretched fingers, next to a shallow rectangular tin full of basted yellow hexagons.
Naturally I had to figure out a way to keep the project transportable.
I have a little commemorative tin for Fig Newtons, which are indeed a snack food of choice for me, which is also just right for holding about two strips' worth of hexagons along with a pair of tiny scissors, my needle minder, and my thimble. I've been scooping hexagons into the tin, and occasionally dumping the remainder back into the tote and replacing with hexies from a different quadrant, attempting to mix the patterns ever further.

I was also delighted to discover that I like constructing the quilt at least as much as I liked basting hexies. Thank goodness. There's a lot of whipstitching in my future.

A chain of seamed-together yellow fabric hexagons, all different prints and shades, that stretches into blurry distance, laid flat on a sunlit blue and green carpet.
Somehow all of my big projects have a stage that can be photographed this way.
I stitched a bunch of hexagons together until I reached the length I wanted for one dimension of the big quilt (about 9 feet), and then counted the hexies in that strip so I wouldn't have to find space to lay out every succeeding strip to check the length. "Long" strips are 61 hexies. "Short" ones are 60.

A long chain of yellow hexagons, draped over a hanging panel of purple, multicolored floral fabric with a border of Frida Kahlo figures, against a bright teal wall.
Actually I like that effect.
I will need a storage solution for the strips at some point. As tempting as it is to keep them over the curtain rod in my front room, by the time I've finished stitching them all, the earliest strips would be shades of buttercream and eggnog rather than saffron and yolk.

I've also had a request to avoid identical adjacent hexies in the final quilt, which I'm going to do my best to honor, although I will not be laying out all 6,285 hexies to be arranged, numbered, taken up again, and stitched in obsessive order. I'm just going to make a pile of strips, lay them out to see which ones can be next to each other, and I'll meticulously piece in strips that are more intentionally arranged as needed.

A stack of ten yellow hexagons, folded and held on edge to show the small whipstitches connecting them.
The stacks are now even sproingier than they were before I connected them.
Continual delight. And continued declarations from observers that they thought I had a box of crackers. I will look forward to having projects that are more clearly fabric again.

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