Tag: Ed

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Scraps

As I was reading blogs the other day, I came across this saying on I Got Nothing by Janice that made me laugh.

fabric stash

I already have a large box full of fabric, which is threatening to overflow. I will need another box soon. I know, however, that my small stash of fabric is nothing compared to other sewists. I received most of my stash from my mom when she died. One of my sisters and I divided it between us.

Mom loved to browse in fabrics stores and buy all sorts of fabric for her quilting. My sisters and I knew exactly what type of fabric she was drawn to, having been to fabric stores with her on numerous occasions. She loved beautiful, colorful fabrics with traditional designs and intricate patterns. She didn’t like yellow or brown, although she used yellow in her latest quilts. She tried to buy some “ugly” fabrics to bring variety to her quilting, but could just never bring herself to do it.

During our visit with our Dad over Christmas, we were looking at a quilt on the guest bed, trying to decide if Mom had made it or bought it. We all pretty much decided that Mom had bought the quilt. My sister Meredith pointed out that several of the fabrics weren’t designs that Mom would have bought, and the stitching was sloppier than Mom’s sewing style of neat stitches.

Mom saved the smallest scraps of fabric. She saved scraps with holes in them from where she had ripped out seams. Worthless scraps. Right? What can you do with a bunch of scraps?

I have those scraps now. My sister has some scraps. We are incorporating those fabric scraps in quilts of our own. Those worthless scraps are turning out to be quite beautiful.

My quilts are more modest than my sister’s. I’m still in the process of making a throw quilt, with a backing and batting, which I hope to be able to throw on my lap this winter as I sit in front of the TV watching Big Bang Theory.Scrappy Dresden Plate

Heather’s quilts are of the artist variety. Her quilts stretch long and tall with intricate designs sewn on the front. Scraps of Mom’s fabric are incorporated into her quilts as well.

Heather's quilt displayed at the Peoria Art Guild in August, 2012
Heather’s quilt displayed at the Peoria Art Guild in August, 2012

Not all scraps are tangible. My sister Meredith’s quilting consists of beautiful phrases of music.

Circle of Geese block (click the picture to hear Meredith's composition "Flock of Geese")
Circle of Geese block (click the picture to hear Meredith’s composition “Flock of Geese”)

We leave intangible scraps of ourselves all over the place. How often has someone told you, “I was thinking about you the other day!” because of something they saw or did that reminded them of you? Or perhaps you smell a certain scent in the air that reminds you of someone you love. (Cinnamon rolls equals Grandma!) Whenever I hear a Def Leppard song, I instantly think of my husband, who has every single album they ever recorded.

Little scraps of us. Not worthless, but meaningful.

(Leave a scrap of yourself below…write a comment!)

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Brown Paper Bags for Christmas

My dad saw me running down the aisle toward him. He opened up his arms, and to his surprise, I ran right past him. I had my eyes on what was behind my father on that Christmas Eve. All the children who had come to church that night received their annual Christmas brown paper bag of goodies: peanuts in the shell, an orange, and maybe even a stick of gum and some candy.

Christmas Eve was such a magical night when I was a little girl. The large, old red brick church building was filled with light and children and singing. A large tree, brought in from a local farm, would fill the front of the sanctuary. We would tell the Christmas story as only children can. When I was in Kindergarten, I was a Christmas angel with large, white, glittery cardboard wings, a white robe, and a jealous little sister. (She still remembers how she felt that Christmas Eve!)

Then home we would go, carrying our paper bags which were missing a peanut or two, across the street to the red brick parsonage to eat Christmas cookies and open presents. Both of my parents had always opened presents on Christmas Eve when they were young and so we followed that tradition when I was young. Presents opened, cookies eaten, it was back to church for the midnight service. When I was very little, I remember wearing my pajamas to church and lying down on the pew in the balcony, listening to my mom sing as the organ played.

Ten years ago, my father was the preacher at a wedding. He told the story of that little girl who only had eyes for the brown paper bag, bursting with good things. And how on that day, I only had eyes for my husband-to-be as I walked down the aisle.

When Ed and I arrived at our wedding reception, one of our friends had placed two brown paper bags filled with peanuts and an orange at our table. Christmas had come early that year.

Spin Cycle at Second Bloomingsignature