Cozy. That's what I'm looking for today. It's cold outside, at least the inside of my house is making me think that. Sometimes, I get all bundled up before heading out somewhere, only to find out that it's warmer outside than it is in my house. In the summer, that's a good thing. In late fall and winter, not so much!
If you're with me on Instagram, you've already heard the story about the quilts in the photo above. You heard how I was always nosing around in antique stores looking for old quilts. I didn't mind a little wear and tear because that's what made them special to me.The two on the bottom of the stack came from my mother-in-law's yard sale before I joined the family. Freebies and in wonderful condition. The one second from the top was an antique store find, and the one on the very top is extra special because I actually got to meet the person who made it.
He was Uncle Olen on Craig's side of the family. He pieced quilts in his older age sitting with his wife in their small apartment in Atlanta. He made two for Hannah when she was a baby. One with pink tones and one with blue because I didn't want to know whether we were having a boy or a girl. And he made this top one for us.
The quilts remind me of childhood years at my grandmother's house on my father's side. I didn't spend too many nights there, but I do remember being deep in the middle of quilts on a cold winter night in their white frame house. The quilts laying heavy on my body but keeping the cold out.
They remind me of a poem I read with my students each year.... "My Mother Pieced Quilts"
and of Alice Walker's masterful story.... "Everyday use." Mama and Maggie might not think my displays are necessary, but I think they would be glad to know that the quilts have seen a lot of use. Everyday use. If not now than at least in the past.
It's getting close to the anniversary of my mother's death. December 11. She didn't quilt, but she did spend hours and hours making clothes for her three girls. Easter dresses, school clothes, even when I was grown, she would make clothes for me. So, although she didn't piece quilts, she sewed and with every tiny stitch a little love was added.
6 comments:
Ohhh my-this is such a beautiful post Roban. And that poem. I'm not a quilter-but I admire who do. Such love and dedication. And what a beautiful me with to keep you warm and cozy.
That's suppose to be beautiful memory. !
Rob, this is neat to read. As you know I spent many a frigid North Georgia night twixt those deep mounds of homemade quilts at Granny Ferrell's and she always lay down with me to help warm up the bed it would be soooooo cold back there in my bedroom. There seemed like maybe 10 quilts on that bed, they were so heavy! Strange, our first and eldest cousin on Mom's side of the family is an avid quilter! Maybe you could contact Vickie Queen and see what she is doing with them these days. As for me I have gobs of fabric scraps awaiting my first quilting attempt. I have realized it isn't going to happen..haha...BTW Renita has Granny FM's quilts. Wish I had one!!
My friend Dianne made a quilt for me many years ago and everytime I use it, fond memories of her come flooding back.
Another beautiful post Roban.
Take care
Peggy xxxx
I love quilts…there is something so tender about them. And man, they do keep the chill out! I prefer them over down comforters any day. It's the weight…they just feel good! Lovely poem! Have a beautiful week! xo
Great post! I am a huge quilt fan as well - I don't make them because I'm craft challenged but I love them!!
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