Quilting Through Life

The summer I turned 13 I stayed 2 weeks with my Great Aunt Gertrude and Uncle Bob out in the country, which is slowly no longer becoming "the country". I enjoyed swinging on a bench my Uncle Bob made, listening to Garth Brooks over and over again on my Walkman. It was hot, as most Texas summers are, but it didn't matter when the breeze blew through. Uncle Bob let me drive his farm truck around as long as I stayed on the front road. I felt like I hit the lottery! Times were different back then.

This was also the summer I turned into an oompa loompa from eating too many carrots because it was the only vegetable I would eat. Before you roll your eyes, yes it's a thing. Being that I had to eat vegetables at lunch and dinner, I opted for carrots instead of the purple hull peas or okra Aunt Gertrude liked to cook.

Aunt Gertrude would have her friends from The Stitching Sisters come over to help hand quilt the latest project. The quilt frame, made from 2x4s by Uncle Bob, would stay nestled up in the against the ceiling in the living room until the need for it came up. Then, Aunt Gertrude would lower it down and stretch out the quilt over the frame so all of the ladies could pick a place to sit and work on quilting their section. Since I was an honorary member that summer, Aunt Gertrude gave me a 10 inch by 10 inch section to help contribute to the work load like everyone else. She explained how to thread the needle, knot the thread, bury the knot, and begin quilting in a rocking motion using my thimble-topped middle finger to push the needle through.

My stitches were uneven and no where close to a straight line. My rocking motion looked more like a stab and jab, but she was patient with me. The other ladies would help here and there when I got myself into a pickle. It was at this point I was bit by the quilting bug. Granted, I use sewing machine or longarm machine to do my quilting now. I just don't have the patience or skill to hand quilt. Though it could be argued that I could develop both if I choose.

My Aunt and Uncle have long since passed, but every time I pick up fabric or thread my memories take me back to that summer. It's been 35 years since that fateful trip, and I've completed well over 20 quilts, some for me but many for others. The creative process makes me feel alive! Aunt Gertrude also tried to teach me how to crochet at the same time, but that one didn't stick. The process of picking out fabrics and a pattern, or creating my own pattern sets my brain into motion in ways it doesn't get with most everything else, apart from writing.

Quilting can be viewed as a combination of coloring with fabric and putting together a puzzle. I'm blessed to have friends who have taken up the hobby, as well as my Aunt Linda who can do anything she puts her mind to. Every year we go together to the International Quilt Festival in Houston to see the professionals' work and search for the perfect fabric. Granted, I have a fabric stash that could probably clothe a city, but I'm always looking for the right fabric for my current project.

In the day of ubertechnology, I'm not sure kids get to experience moments that stay with them, mold them, like those two weeks did for me. I've mentioned wanting to go back to slow living and that's one of the reasons why. If I endlessly scroll through social media instead of taking the moment to listen and watch, how many other moments have passed me by?

What's a moment that stands out to you, that you think back on fondly many years later?