Just two days ago, I taught an improv class with the Ozone Layers Quilt Guild in Abita Springs, LA. It started out rough. My assistant, Marcella, and I arrived early enough but could not find the lights or the air conditioning switches. Have you been in Louisiana at 8:30 a.m. when the temperature is 80 degrees and humidity at 90? It’s so hot. So, so hot. The only person who saw me in makeup was Marcella. By the time people began arriving, I had sweat it completely off. No. Really. Wiping sweat with paper towels does nothing to improve the look of 66 years. Plus, when I get really hot, my face turns beet red and I develop a migraine. No kidding. So, heat and humidity are not my friends. Yes, I know, what can I expect living in the Deep South? This. I expect this. In March.
Regardless, at some point, the plumber guy (the toilets weren’t working) found all the switches, and we managed to limp along while people strolled in. But you know how finicky the internet is. Never trust the internet to work when you need it the most. Never. Ever. Ever. It turns out that there was a Wi-Fi connection, but by the time I found out, I had already devised a fix and was halfway through the list of attendees. I had each one email me so I could send them the class file. It’s some background info and a bit of what we were doing. I have my ways around the crazy internet. Never trust it, am I right?
Did I tell you that the toilets weren’t working? Yes, it was a fun day. The door didn’t have a sign and, because it was a swinging door, I assumed it went into the kitchen. Imagine my shock: I walked in only to discover two men working there. In the bathroom with the swinging door. I didn’t even know anyone was in the building! It turned out they were two of a team of plumbers working on the non-flushing toilets. It would be late in the day before we got the go ahead to use the ladies’ room.
Nevertheless, there was a fix: ask the neighbors to borrow theirs. The neighbors happened to be the town municipal building, and they were expecting us. Oh well, it was only 20ish steps outside the door. Theirs doors were labeled and their stalls really clean and, well, they worked. We took a couple of “recesses” so everyone could get to the bathroom and get back but still keep up with the class. Honestly, it was the most fun I have had while teaching a quilting class. I imagine 30 years of teaching in high schools prepared me well. Most importantly, the students seemed to have a great time.
I was a little concerned about how I would come across. Surely, I seemed ditzy and confused. Well, actually I was ditzy and confused and nervous, but these ladies were South Louisiana sweet and made me feel at home in no time. Besides, the evaluations returned with glowing responses. Mostly five stars and only a few improvements for future classes. (Although I don’t know what I could have done about the bathroom.) Marcella and I enjoyed the drive home. She thought I’d lose my mind with all the issues. (Or that my hot face, would explode!) However, as we were laughing about our crazy day, I realized that this is perhaps the funniest quilt teacher story I have! And I love funny teacher stories. By now, I think it’s hilarious.
As I said, most importantly my students enjoyed themselves and expressed their joy at learning about something most never thought they would enjoy doing. It comes through in their work…these samples are stunning. Only two people had ever done any improv piecing before. Can you figure out which blocks are theirs?
Here’s a link to my last post on improv log cabin blocks. How would you have handled the many problems? Could you laugh about it all later? Leave a comment.
