When I was growing up winter time was quilting time. Before the first snow my dad would bring in Mom’s quilting frame from the barn. Her quilting frame is this long Amish-style contraption that’s about four feet wide and as long as our basement family room. Mom would spend all winter sitting at that frame, stoking the fire every few hours, and constantly watching ‘her shows’. She would hand quilt at least one full sized quilt each winter. By the time the daffodils were in full bloom the quilting frame would be back in storage, and Mom would be at the dining room table, cutting out the geometric shapes of next year’s quilt.
for something you’ll never see again
and not take a picture of it.
Which brings us to Exhibit B. I made the top of this quilt last summer. When I started quilting it (On the machine. I’m not nearly as hardcore as my mom was.) I hit a snag with some tension problems and had to do some ripping. And then it sat. And sat. Until today! When I picked it up and finished quilting it. After snipping some threads, trimming out the back and batting to fit the top, and a quick bind off, she’ll be all done. It’s not a work of art. It’s definitely a novice quilt. But I like to think my Momma would be proud.
Yesterday one of our loyal customers gave me the high quality materials for a quilt that she has decided she isn’t going to be able to work on any longer due to health issues. I was flattered, to say the least. And I think I finally feel like I can do this lovely fabric justice.
Its amazing how many memories and warm fuzzy feelings a quilt can hold. I have memories of playing in my grandmother’s closet in stacks of cut fabric and my sister Jenny helping me to make my first quilt. Isaac’s family quilts too, it is one of the many things that draws me closer to them. Your quilt looks beautiful, you are doing an amazing job.
*smooches*