Day 17. The letter Q for Quilts.
But this time of year when the first really cold blasts come, I’m also reminded of how much I love quilts. I’m thankful that many of the ones I have connect me to my past, one as far back as my great-grandmother. A few were made just for me which makes them all the more special. And a few I’ve rescued from yard sales, sad that the owners would turn loose of a piece of who they are because the color was no longer in style or they didn’t value the hours and love that goes into stitching together a quilt. I’m honored to have the ones I have. They are treasured. Here’s a peek at a couple of them.
Wishing you lots of cozy quilt days with your favorite cuppa this Thanksgiving!
2 comments:
I love quilts, too. My precious grandmother once made a quilt - the only one I ever knew she made - and gave it to me at some point in my early adult life - when I was too immature to appreciate exactly what she gave. It was made from scraps of cloth she'd used to make clothing for us all during my childhood. I loved that quilt, but it became known as the "ugly" quilt, because the colors, patterns, and textures were ... well, pretty wild (think of some of the clothing worn in the 60s and 70s, and you can probably imagine how it earned that name.)
One day, it was taken on a picnic, and something spilled on it. The quilt was tossed on the back of a truck bed so it could dry in the sun. When the truck left, the driver didn't notice the quilt, and somewhere in his journey, the quilt blew away and I never saw it again. It broke my heart. But since then, no quilt has ever been "ugly" to me - regardless of the colors, textures, or design. They're all precious.
Aw, Tracy, I'm sorry you lost your quilt. That would break my heart. Every one I have has a little history and is special in its own way. Thanks for sharing your story.
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