Category: Quilts

Quilted

DSC_0134My friend spent 3 hours standing as she tended my quilt while her machine made row after row of roses across the fabric. That’s a nice person.

I realize that quilt posts are probably boring, but lately I’ve got nothing to give to this blog. Life is like that sometimes.

Quilt update

DSC_0111 DSC_0112I have learned a lot from the ladies in my neighborhood quilting group. I have very little quilting experience and I am surrounded by women who can whip out a quilt in an afternoon. There are even some purists in the group who make their quilts entirely by hand. I slink in the door and dine on the scraps of their skill and inspiration.

I read that the “Disappearing Nine-patch” (the pattern of my quilt) is a Novice pattern, which is even easier than a Beginner pattern. With that information to quell my pride in the project, I finished sewing my quilt and I’m having it quilted on a friend’s machine on Thursday. Hooray for me!

 

 

Things I need to face

My paint project: I’m whitening up the the basement doors and trim with semi-gloss enamel paint. It’s a bigger project than I expected, but I am loving the results so far.

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My quilt project: the squares are complete. I *just* need to assemble them, do a border, select a backing, sew the backing, quilt and bind it. Quilters, do you really find this enjoyable? My mom says that it helps to have a good machine, which I don’t have, and I’m not asking for one. I am not sure I want to be a seamstress. Maybe I will change my mind when I fall in love with my completed Strawberry Shortcake quilt.

DSC_0041Someone said that it’s a good exercise to find out the activities that you can “get lost” doing. You lose track of the time and other thoughts when you are busy doing your special thing. For me, it’s writing and reading, but I also love to develop new skills. I want to be capable and well-read. This is how I will accomplish this today: I get up from the computer, walk downstairs and keep painting. Later, when my arm is tired, I will wash up and maybe sew a row of squares. If I do these things, I will reward myself with a little theology reading. Wish me luck.

A Soldier, a Mother, and a Quilt

This is #11 in a series of posts in which I share some of the things I have experienced because I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In each of these posts, I will give you a basic background and share a small experience. I hope that through the sharing of these small things you can have a glimpse into my experience as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ. I will also try to explain principles and doctrines of my faith that bring me so much happiness.

A Soldier, a Mother, and a Quilt

I was at a viewing for a young soldier. It was the first time I had ever seen this young man, but it shouldn’t have been.

Four or five years before his death, this young man was on the list of kids who were seminary age, but I had never contacted him to invite him to my class. His family had not been to church for years, and I didn’t reach out to him.

When the young man was killed in the war, the family called a friend from the Church, and many members ran to the family to help in their own way.

My feelings were poignant, and the words that formed in my mind that evening at the viewing were full of regret. I deeply regretted that I had not known him. It was a terrible to face a missed opportunity for friendship in such a way.

It took courage to introduce myself to his mother, surrounded by women of another religion at the viewing. “I’m Angie Ross and I’m your Relief Society President,” was all that I can remember saying.

With a flash of recognition at the title, but not my face, she looked at me and paused. The moment was quickly gone, but she knew that she was not forgotten by the Church in which she was still a member, but no longer attended.

My individual failings aside, I knew that she had never been forgotten by the members of the Church. Her visiting teachers, two women assigned to visit her monthly were faithful. These sisters had continued to maintain a friendship with her for many years. These women were marvelous.

We made a quilt for this grieving mother with squares made by individual members. Some squares were made by her visiting teachers; some were made by her friends; one was made by a child, and one was made by a set of missionaries about the age of her son. However, the majority of the quilt was made by women she had never met, who had covenanted at baptism to mourn with those that mourn and comfort those that stand in need of comfort.

The Church is made of individuals full of faults and personal failings. Individually, we are inadequate in our efforts, but together, we can help compensate where there are failings. I had failed to reach out to the son, but others had maintained a friendship with his mother, and she was able to feel the strength of the Church when her son was killed. As members of the Church, we have a network of people in place to support each family. The organization of the members watching out for one another is one testament to me that this is Christ’s Church on the earth today.

For we are glad, when we are weak, and ye are strong: and this also we wish, even your perfection. 2 Corinthians 13:9

It’s about Color!

I’ve decided to try quilting now that I have willing neighbors to help me.

I had a pretty big quilt failure last time I tried to piece a quilt square. I’m hoping I can overcome this, unlike my continued failure to grow house plants. I’ve made several quilts, but they have not been complicated. I’ve been told that having the right equipment is essential, so I bought the tools first.

Next came the fabric. I needed 11 fabrics. Aaaack! I walked down the aisles for a long while, looking for a fabric to inspire me. And then I found it! It had red! It had pink! It had a lovely pale sage green! It was old fashioned! It was perfect. Once I had this fabric, I knew what I wanted for the quilt: a splash or two of red, a smaller amount of pink, lots of pale sage and a touch of pale yellow.

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I’m not a trendy person, so there are no hot pink and orange owls for my quilt, although I loved these fabrics. I’m telling myself I can be a quilter because it really is about color, order, and art, which are three things to which I can feel good about devoting some time.

I got home and realized that these fabrics are Strawberry Shortcake colors. That was my childhood. Lovely.

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Now I need to begin cutting. I’m so nervous.

Thoughts about Girls’ Weekend

Susan’s photos

I was a daughter and sister before I was a wife and mother, but most of the time I forget that.

I don’t think about leaving my family for a weekend away because I am a home body and I like to kiss my kids good night. I have left my family several times, but coaxing, extreme need, or a religion symposium were the necessary ingredients to pull me away. This time, it took the computer blowing up to finalize the decision.

On this girls’ weekend, I renewed my zeal for family history. As we worshiped, laughed, shopped, and sewed, I could distill the sisters from the accoutrements of children, husbands, and activity; distill the friends from the mother, relatives, and siblings.

In the book, Angle of Repose, Wallace Stegner talks about the Doppler Effect as it relates to memory and perception of life events. There is distortion over time, just as there is a distortion in sound with distance.

During our visit I heard stories of the past in new ways. My relative position to those memories has altered, and my understanding of motives and history makes these memories and their lessons different. Perception and value change with time, experience, and need. My mom said that hearing more about her family’s side events has altered her perception of things that happened long ago.

I am counting on that ultimate wisdom, because things aren’t perfect in these photos. I think of the sister-in-law who might have been with us, making our number 7, not 6. I don’t want to understand everything now, because the pain is too deep, but someday, when time eases up on the frequency of those feelings, maybe I’ll find my own angle of repose about it all.

I came away thankful for having gone. Susan’s pictures clarified what I felt was most important for me to learn on the trip, and that is to do my duty as a daughter of God first.

See the metaphorical baggage we dropped to the side to be in the temple together?

The great rescue from my quilt quagmire; a hair transplant, and basic relaxation strategies

On the morning after a late night Cranford marathon, one of us has eyes so puffy they won’t open.