Colorado
United States
Where your deep gladness meets with the deep hunger of the world, there you will find a further calling. Frederick Buechner
AHH THE REAL ME IN SUN LIGHT ha!ha!MY LIFE IN PIECES
There is a Double Irish Chain quilt on my bed. I still wonder about the lady who pieced the top with great care by hand. Years ago I found the quilt top stuffed in a box at a quilt sale. The seller knew nothing about the history of this old piece but the fabric indicates it might have been assembled in the 1940s. I brought it home; tea-dyed some muslin to match the old fabric for the back, and then hand quilted every inch. I love this old thing.
I made my first quilt when I was 18 years old. I had the mortifying experience of having my tonsils taken out at that age and needed something to do with my hands while I recuperated. Jim and I were already planning to run away and get married so we picked out fabric together and I set to work making a covering for “our” bed. Lots of dreams and plans stitched into that Crazy quilt. The colorful craziness added life to our bedroom for years.
I was hooked! I loved every aspect of this hobby and have lost count of how many Queen size, Full size, Twin size and Baby quilts that I’ve assembled in the last 30 years, not to mention the quilted jackets and jumpers and vests. I taught my girls to quilt when they were little. Heather still enjoys the hobby and Bradi will occasionally sit still long enough to throw in a few stitches at the frame with us. It reminds me of when they were children and Heather would be working away while Bradi climbed around under the quilting frame and told us how many stitches she had counted from the underside!
My nephew, Brian was about four when he wanted to know more about what I was doing so I gave him a detailed description of what it takes to make a quilt. There was a long pause, and then he said, “So, you take a BIG piece of that cloth, then you cut it up in little pieces, then you sew it all back together again.” Another long pause and then with the maddening logic of a four year old, “WHY?”
After all these years of “sewing it all back together again” I’ve realized that I enjoy the handwork part of quilting the best. So I put away my sewing machine for my latest project and I’m sewing each three inch square by hand. My Grandmother made quilts this way and I’m thinking of her as I thread and rethread and thread that needle over and over and over again. The work that would take a few days seated at the machine will take me months to complete. But I’ll have memories of sewing in the sunlight on our back porch swing watching the grandsons play. I’ll remember the background noise of a bubbly mountain stream and looking up to see Jim waving from the bank. And since I bought the fabric on our vacation travels I’ll remember the laughter we shared with Jim’s family and the long hours of driving through beautiful country with my best friend.
The pattern for the new quilt is a jumble of brightly colored autumn leaves. I wasn’t happy with the busyness of the original design so I made some executive decisions and isolated some 80 leaves and tossed them onto a black background. This morning I’ve had my first glimpse of how some of these pieces will fit together. I’ve rolled the old Irish Chain over and covered it with patches of bright reds and yellows, brilliant golds and smoky oranges and browns. It is breathtaking and I’m delighted with what my eyes see. Standing here I have a vision of the past and the future. I can see my Grandma learning to quilt at her own mother’s knee. I can hardly imagine how she ever found a few minutes to quilt as she was raising eleven children and keeping house without the modern conveniences I take for granted. I’m picturing my early quilts and the little people in my house that would sometimes help and would often not. I’m remembering the Mennonite Quilt Fairs and the exquisite displays of incredible colors and unbelievable works of art. And I’m envisioning a jet black background scattered with the intense colors of autumn.
In the end...the unknown piecemaker who carefully chose the two shades of green, who cut and stitched for hours, and who probably left some of her blood on the stitches of the old Irish Chain never saw the end result of her labors. Maybe she sewed the pieces together in that quiet lull before the birth of her first child. Maybe she started the project in some peaceful moments in the middle of her life and put it down one day and just never had time to pick it up and finish it. Maybe it was her children who found the quilt top after her death and donated it to the quilt sale. She probably couldn’t have imagined the quilt finished and still decorating my bed here in 2008. But I can imagine her life by the care she put into these meticulous stitches. And I can respect the hours of loving attention to the careful details of fitting corners and lining up edges just so. I admire her, whoever she was. I wish she could see this old thing now.
I've just added another memory to this original story because I'm still picking away at hand piecing the Autumn Leaves quilt. I spent a scary afternoon this week huddled in a hospital corridor listening to tornado sirens and tons of hail on the roof. We are temporarily living in our RV while my husband wires machinery in a small town hospital and I was smart enough to throw some quilt blocks in my "tornado bag" so you'll have to imagine me seated on the floor in the hallway, stitching away with lots of chaotic pounding on the roof. The deep green fabric turned into a striking block and gave my hands something to do while I prayed. I think I'll have to give this leaf a special place in the quilt because of the very specific memories it holds.
I have quilted for over 25 years, and I've taught quilting off and on for over 20 years. I can do all the speed-piecing and cutting and machine-quilting in the world, (and, belive me, I do use them!), but none of it is as satisfying as sitting in my favorite rocking chair and hand-piecing and hand-quilting is for me.
There is just something comforting about sitting down and doing somethng that women (and men) have done in much the same way for over 5000 years. Sure, the tools are better. Our needles and thread are infinitely improved! But, the simple sewing together of the three layers is much the same. It's a very, very connecting thing to do. Have you ever noticed while hand working on a quilted piece, that your mind can wander and many problems can be pondered and solved while you sit and stitch? It's amazing. I hope everyone in the world has something this comforting to do.
I will be posting something on this subject in my own journal on this site. I have bee remiss in putting things there. Hope you are enjoying the summer.
From one stitcher to another,
:O)
AllPatchedUp
ROCKY GIRL--My grandmother made one like this by hand. They used to invite friends over to help them called "quilting bees" & were all made by hand. Now days, machines make them. Thanks for the story--gayle
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