As the Husband and I were starting to unwind into our evening relax mode, I thought about the grumpy ladies guarding the fair's quilt and sewing division's submissions when I went to pick up my entries an hour or so earlier. "Oh no!" Down thumped my feet from the hassock. "I forgot my elephant!" Off the Husband and I scampered back into must-get-things-done mode. The fairgrounds is only seven miles away so it was not a big deal to go back, especially since the first time out I caught a ride with a friend who was also fetching her entries. Back at the fairgrounds,  I wondered if the grumpy ladies wouldn't give me my elephant because I didn't have my claim check. All six or seven women, middle-aged and older, sitting in chairs and around a table, looked at me. All long-time sewers and quilters, no doubt. Gulp. "I'm picking up my textile," I said, knowing right away that's the wrong term. Amateur, I am. "A wall hangi