I remember the first quilt I ever saw. I was fifteen, and a student assistant in a kindergarten class. At the end of the year, the teacher was retiring because she was terminally ill. On the last day of school she brought me a gift to say good bye. When I opened it, it was a gorgeous red and white pineapple quilt! I was floored that she gave me such a gift. (All I gave her was a silly glass apple paper weight!). That night, our St. Bernard was shot with an arrow by a neighbor. My dad grabbed the quilt off of the couch, wrapped it around the dog an headed to the vet hospital. "Ben" did not survive, and I could not bear to have the quilt touch me knowing it had been covered in his blood. I gave it to the lady next door. Soon after, my dad remarried to a woman whose mother was a prodigious quilter. She is the lady who taught me to make quilts. Thank you Grandma Helen. I recently inherited all of her Christmas fabric, and am currently looking for just the right pattern.