Day 296: Yesterday, the Potato Chip Quilt arrived at its final destination, taking my sister-of-the-heart Patty quite by surprise. Oh, I'd baited her with a tracking number so that she could follow a Mystery Box as it travelled across the country, but had given her no clues as to what it contained. The third member of our triumvirate was in on the secret, keeping her lips zipped as tightly as mine. I wanted her to share in the suspense and the moment of revelation. Now both of my "sisters" have quilts I hand-stitched, although Mousie's was pieced by her grandmother about seventy years years ago.
Quilting is one of the ways I've kept sane through the pandemic. When I finish the one currently on the frame about two weeks from now, it will be the seventh one I've made since covid protocols became a new way of life. Of those seven, one was quilted with the sewing machine and one was tied, using buttons at the anchor points, but the other five were all hand-quilted to make the puff pattern visible on the back side (photo, right). This stitching helps stabilize the batting, although modern batts don't tend to lump like the cotton ones of yesteryear. I find hand-quilting very relaxing, even meditative, and I am grateful to the friend who gave me her old quilting frame which has made the job even more enjoyable. As much as I love piecing the bright colours and arranging them, I am truly in my métier when doing hand-stitchery. One hand remains above the quilt, the other beneath it, driving the needle straight down or straight up, striving to keep my stitches uniform and aligned. As my mother often said, "A thing worth doing is worth doing well," and I try to live by her philosophy. Even so, my hand-work is far less meticulous than that of my great-grandmother who, although I barely knew her, has served to inspire me in the art of quilting.
No comments:
Post a Comment