Naturally, I did what every quilter does—I grabbed my phone to snap a photo.

But when I looked back… Block #7 was gone.

Just—POOF. Vanished like your favorite scissors when you just had them two seconds ago.

My immediate suspect? Bobbin, our micromini goldendoodle and known fabric thief. She’s been caught red-pawed with spools before. So I tore through the shop like a woman possessed: looking under tables, in the trash, behind the ironing board.

No Block. No closure.

After a dramatic sigh and two cups of tea (plus a handful of chocolate chips right out of the bag for comfort), I resigned myself to remaking it. Again.

Hours later, as I reached for my foot pedal to sew... I stepped on something soft.

Yup. BLOCK. SEVEN. Had been stuck to the bottom of my foot the entire time.

I had literally been walking around with it underfoot like a lost sock, questioning my sanity.

Moral of the story? Always check your feet. And maybe pin your blocks and your pride more securely next time.

Stitch on,

— Donna

P.S. Ever lost a block in a hilarious or humiliating way? Hit reply and tell me your story. I could use a laugh. 😄