For better or worse, I hit a new level of quilt gift giving. One that I only fully appreciated when I was sneaking gift quilts into a funeral home.
Our friend who went missing while traveling across the state in March, was found in a shallow reservoir last week. Although we all appreciate the closure of the funeral, we still desperately miss Grant. On the Thursday before the Saturday funeral I found myself sending Kathy (the widow) the text message "How weird would it be for me to bring you and Alex quilts instead of flowers? Would it be a welcoming hug to wrap up in, or a painful reminder?" Her reply "Sweet and more thoughtful."
She and Alex can now wrap themselves in the Shop Hop Quilt and Blue Lemonade knowing that it's the only hug-on-demand I can manage from 300 miles away.
Later the same day my quilt mentor, best friend, and also long and dear friend of Grant and Kathy
made this post about quilts as hugs. Please take the time to follow the link. I think that many of us quilt for this very reason.
I'm thinking that have Hug Quilts on hand may be a new requirement in my life.
We came home Sunday of the holiday weekend because of my teen's oh so important social lives. I had just had my grandmother's sewing machine tuned up and decided to pull her out to do a piecing project. I have never before understood why people felt obliged to name machines (I honestly have hated nearly every sewing machine I've met).
But now... well...I'm calling her Genevieve in honor of my g'ma. She has one stitch. "Forward". There are two adjustments...the tension on the left and stitch length on the right. The vibration was moving the stitch length downward, so I had to use some copper "safety wire" to manage the length.
Remember those turquoise fabric scraps I asked help with? This is what they look like today. Well...kind-of. In good light, the blue is less green and the grey is more blue.
I saw the groom-to-be at the funeral who pulled me aside to let me know he was now engaged. PSHSHHH. Yea, dude, I know....I've already started the quilt. I'm a Mom. We know everything.