It's been a while since I posted anything, but this one "kinda" caught my interest. I was the last of 11 children with a gap of almost 8 years between my next sister and I. (There had been 2 deaths between her and I.) Otherwise, the rest of the bunch was only about 2 years apart; like clockwork! Needless to say, I think my mother was probably pretty tired of dealing with all of us, but somehow, (maybe she knew she was done with all the birthing stuff,) had patience and tolerance for her last little sickly girl. Skinny, scrawny, sickly at the time, (but you should see me now!) respiratory problems, hard of hearing, a wandering eye, but a mother's love made me feel special anyway. Due to physical problems and the joy of living in the country, isolated from anyone closeby that was near my age, and an older sister who thought I was a big bother, my Mother took me under her special wing and taught me many of the gentle arts, that she had learned as the daughter of a fairly well to do family in Georgia. (NO! I didn't say we were wealthy! Far from it in fact!) I learned to sew at a very early age. I could run her old Singer treadle machine when I was about 6 years old, with guidance, of course! She taught me to knit, and to crochet. Somehow, she had never learned to follow directions; but could look at something and know how to do it. I taught myself to read directions for both when I was 9 years old when my oldest sister sent me some leftover yarn and crochet thread and a couple of instruction books. I learned to tat, which is almost a lost art. It is so slow, but the end results are very pretty. I remember my Mother crocheting or tatting the yokes for the homeade slips she made for me and for the collars to my blouses/dresses.
But the quilting: Sorry if I got diverted... I guess Mother was a "Purist" when it came to quilting. Everything was hand sewn. My first pieced quilt was a simple bow tie. We just had scraps back then: we used what we had. It would have been unheard of to buy new fabric, cut it up in pieces, and sew it back together again!!! So what that the whites weren't all the same? Some might have been flour sacks and the others a lot tighter woven and whiter. I know my stitches were pretty long, and if I got tired working on my pieces, Mother would say, "Just quit." "Remember whatever is worth doing, is worth doing well." I remember putting all my squares together with her help, and using an old blanket as batting, and a half worn out sheet as the backing. My, have times changed! I have no idea what happened to that old quilt. Life is sometimes unfair and somethings that should be remembered are lost in the dust of bad times.
Within the past 2 years, I have started quilting again. Have moved up from one long arm machine to a better one, and have been fortunate that a local quilt shop refers me to quite a few people. The world turns around in mysterious ways, and I'm sure my Mother would be proud of me right now if she were able to know what I'm doing. She would have been 109 this year; I am 71.
Sorry for all the rambling, guess I needed to vent a little bit. My next to the oldest sister is in Georgia, (86) has just been taken off a ventilator, and is not expected to last much longer. I can't be there, so I guess I am here, rattling away at the computer. Thanks to everyone on the list for reading this or thinking about me. All prayers for "Ida" would certainly be appreciated. I truly didn't mean to "write a book," I promise I will be shorter my next post!