Once again, here is a quilt of the Lone Star persuasion, once again in the sort of colors that me, myself and I would never choose. And, once again, this quilt landed in our household through inheritance.
There’s plenty of hand-stitching in it. Picture this quilt stretched out to its full size, attached to a well-worn wooden quilt frame bounded on each side by several “older” ladies hunched over in folding chairs, deftly wielding needles, thread, and thimbles.
Now picture one of those ladies as being twenty-something and a complete novice at quilting. Around thirty years ago I was invited to a quilting day in our church basement and I actually did sit there for a few hours, pushing a needle through the fabric, attempting to contrive tiny stitches which were even in length and lined up straight. While my fingers clumsily worked, my ears took in the latest news and gossip from our area. My one day of being a quilter was not an unpleasant experience, but I knew I was not cut out to sit and stitch for hours at a time, at least not at that point in my life. Maybe I should now reconsider, but, alas, there is no longer a quilting group at our church.
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2 comments:
Many things were learned in those quilting circles.
Sometimes four generations would gather around a quilting frame to learn how to quilt and learn many other things about life.
You have painted a wonderful picture with your words.
Oh wow. You were part of a quilting circle? Even for a day, that's pretty cool. I have never quilted and have no desire to. Don't need any more blankets. :) Wouldn't be my color choice either.
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