The Studio convened at nine. The agenda had one item: choose a gift for a quilter. The minutes are reproduced here in full, because somebody should learn from this.
Nine-fifteen. Cleo Drapewell opened proceedings by auditioning fabric on the recipient's behalf. She held a coral bolt up to the light, then an indigo, then a third she declined to name. She nodded at none of them and closed the discussion. When asked for her reasoning, she looked at the committee until the committee apologized.
Nine-forty. Hazel Boltstack proposed fabric anyway, on the grounds that fabric is always correct. She was then asked, gently, about the shelf at her house that nobody may mention, and whether the recipient might also have such a shelf, with its own rules, known only to her. Hazel sat down. The motion did not.
Ten o'clock. Heidi Straightgrain reminded the room that she does not cut until the ruler agrees, and that no ruler in the building could measure another quilter's taste. This was entered into the record as the first sensible thing said all morning.
Ten-twenty. Goldie Threadfetch, champion retriever of dropped spools and sofa-swallowed thimbles, volunteered to simply fetch whatever the recipient wanted. The committee noted this was an excellent instinct with one flaw: nobody knew what the recipient wanted. Goldie held her tennis-ball posture for a long moment, then conceded the point and celebrated anyway, because that is her way.
Ten-thirty. Marlene Needlehorn said she would bring the gift, and also, somehow, the tent, the table, and the emergency pins. The committee clarified that no tent was required. Marlene said it was fine. It was fine.
Eleven o'clock. The ruling, unanimous, one line: nobody chooses for a quilter. She has opinions about quarter-inch seams she has never once said out loud. She has a stash with a filing system that would fall apart if anyone else touched it, including alphabetically. Her taste is the one tool in the room only she can hold.
And so the committee founded, in its own honor, the only gift that survives the ruling: the Chic Quilter gift card. Ten dollars to a hundred. She does the choosing ~ which was always the best part ~ and every citizen of the studio keeps her opinions to herself, with the possible exception of Cleo, who reserves the right to nod.
Meeting adjourned. Goldie is still celebrating.
