Confessions of a Want-to-be Quilter . . . continued (3)
#1
Birth of a Sunbonnet Sue
Morning comes early in the country. The chickens begin calling before the first light. I hurried to get my chores done, which included going under the house to gather eggs, and take them down the street to the market. After my “cat bath” I was ready to visit my pressed cloth pieces. We sat in our rockers, Grandmother and I. The pieces were positioned in the prepared hoop of drab background cloth and pinned in place. From the sewing basket I withdrew the package of black, pleated, paper, pierced with needles of assorted sizes. “Which one, Granny?” Her thin fingers indicated one of the medium needles. I cut off a portion of thread and ran it through the eye. I was experienced at button replacement, so needle threading was not new. What followed, however, was a new application.
First, pieces needed to be basted into place. Ouch! I wanted thimbles for each of my fingers. As I basted, the pins made their way from the pieces of Sue into the strawberry pincushion. Then, the real birth of Sue began. Blanket stitches, feather stitches, turkey tracks, daisy chains, probably more, after all, it was many, many, many years ago. Days passed. I kept working. Every stitch had to be perfect. Not too far apart. Not too short. I set standards. But my fingers got tired, and the summer grass and good books were calling too.
I finished all of the sewing. I learned a new word, applique, and I had done it, all by myself. I didn’t have time to do anything with my Sunbonnet Sue. She was still in the hoop when I had to go home. I was assured that she’d be waiting for me when I returned at Thanksgiving. I put her in a safe place in the linen room, then turned out the light.
. . . to be continued next Monday
episode #1 http://www.quiltingboard.com/t-89325-1.htm
episode #2 http://www.quiltingboard.com/t-91439-1.htm
Morning comes early in the country. The chickens begin calling before the first light. I hurried to get my chores done, which included going under the house to gather eggs, and take them down the street to the market. After my “cat bath” I was ready to visit my pressed cloth pieces. We sat in our rockers, Grandmother and I. The pieces were positioned in the prepared hoop of drab background cloth and pinned in place. From the sewing basket I withdrew the package of black, pleated, paper, pierced with needles of assorted sizes. “Which one, Granny?” Her thin fingers indicated one of the medium needles. I cut off a portion of thread and ran it through the eye. I was experienced at button replacement, so needle threading was not new. What followed, however, was a new application.
First, pieces needed to be basted into place. Ouch! I wanted thimbles for each of my fingers. As I basted, the pins made their way from the pieces of Sue into the strawberry pincushion. Then, the real birth of Sue began. Blanket stitches, feather stitches, turkey tracks, daisy chains, probably more, after all, it was many, many, many years ago. Days passed. I kept working. Every stitch had to be perfect. Not too far apart. Not too short. I set standards. But my fingers got tired, and the summer grass and good books were calling too.
I finished all of the sewing. I learned a new word, applique, and I had done it, all by myself. I didn’t have time to do anything with my Sunbonnet Sue. She was still in the hoop when I had to go home. I was assured that she’d be waiting for me when I returned at Thanksgiving. I put her in a safe place in the linen room, then turned out the light.
. . . to be continued next Monday
episode #1 http://www.quiltingboard.com/t-89325-1.htm
episode #2 http://www.quiltingboard.com/t-91439-1.htm
#7
Thanks for your warm comments.
In order for a topic to make the Monday digest, I actually post on Sunday evening. Apparently any posting needs bunches of replies to make it to the digest, and the last couple of installments didn't have enough comments. I knew what I was looking for, and couldn't find it 30 minutes after posting. After 12 hours, it was so buried a casual surfer wouldn't be able to locate it.
For those of you determined to find the stories, I'll keep posting. However, without feedback I may find a stopping point and return to quilting instead of reminiscing.
Did I stop quilting to write, you ask? No the stories are written. Each new quilt has new stories. Shopping trips have new stories. Tomorrow is my exchange daughters birthday. I finished her quilt yesterday. The short story is that it was suppose to be a queen size, ended up a king. Oh well. Also, Ditter's joke today reminded me of a Texas Tornado cake which I think I'll bake for the occasion and post. Did you catch the ditty about the rose colored glasses? we'll have our heart glasses on too.
Good times, that's quilting, good times and new memories - for as long as they last.
In order for a topic to make the Monday digest, I actually post on Sunday evening. Apparently any posting needs bunches of replies to make it to the digest, and the last couple of installments didn't have enough comments. I knew what I was looking for, and couldn't find it 30 minutes after posting. After 12 hours, it was so buried a casual surfer wouldn't be able to locate it.
For those of you determined to find the stories, I'll keep posting. However, without feedback I may find a stopping point and return to quilting instead of reminiscing.
Did I stop quilting to write, you ask? No the stories are written. Each new quilt has new stories. Shopping trips have new stories. Tomorrow is my exchange daughters birthday. I finished her quilt yesterday. The short story is that it was suppose to be a queen size, ended up a king. Oh well. Also, Ditter's joke today reminded me of a Texas Tornado cake which I think I'll bake for the occasion and post. Did you catch the ditty about the rose colored glasses? we'll have our heart glasses on too.
Good times, that's quilting, good times and new memories - for as long as they last.
#8
Super Member
Join Date: Jan 2009
Location: NE Wisconsin
Posts: 1,351
Thank you for sharing your story with us. Looking forward to your next posting. I had no experience with quilting before the 1980's. My grandmother did some quilting, but spoke very little English and lived 200 miles from my home. I do have a dresden plate quilt that she made. It's ever so precious to me. My Mom had it packed away and didn't think it was anything special until I drooled over it!
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02-19-2011 11:35 AM