I spend part of Sunday afternoon repairing a quilt made by my husband's grandmother. It is the quilt his father kept with him and is very worn by regular washing by indifferent hands. I am repairing the rips and missing batting from a bag of old quilt scraps I found at a Flea Market many years ago. No matching fabrics, but fabrics from the same era. I eventually found that matching the shape of the damaged piece is beyond my skills, so I have been putting squares or rectangles over the tears.
A great feeling of satisfaction is my reward.
Keeping her quilt alive is a joyous project, though rather hard on my hands and back. But as I don't believe it has to be completed immediately, it has become my on-going project. One day it will all be done, and I can smile at the little scraps that patch the patchwork.
How amazing— Iva Claiborne stitched these beautiful quilts (all of them slightly different sizes, as they were meant for different beds) in the evening in a corner of her living room, never dreaming that her "economies" were to be cherished things of great beauty to a grand-daughtr-in-law!
1 comment:
A beautiful quilt indeed! And good for you for taking such good care of her! :)
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