Yes it’s been something like 100 degrees and humid out. Yes, I’m thinking about quilts. No, I’m not crazy… (that I know of).

It all started last winter. I had the idea to make a quilt using vintage sheets and vintage chenille blankets. It was going to be fabulous. For the next three days I did nothing but cut quilt squares. When those were done, is when the panic set in. You see, I come from a long line of talent women when it comes to sewing… or more specifically quilting. The quilts my mother and grandmother made were spectacular. Then, when I was 13, my mother encouraged me to make a quilt for one of my friends. She’d help, she said.

What happened after that was a nightmare. Much yelling, much screaming, and when I was done I’m sure my mother thought I was suffering from a bad case of the dramatics. Nothing worked right, I couldn’t cut straight, I couldn’t sew straight and I swear, everytime I touched that machine, it tried to commit suicide. The end result was a crooked quilt and a 13 year old girl who decided she never ever wanted to touch a sewing machine again.

Okay, so I went back on that later in life… I did, in fact, touch a sewing machine again, and it wasn’t that bad, but definitely, the things I sew on a sewing machine pale in comparison to anything my mother and grandmother ever created on that machine.

Here’s a fine example of their handi-work (and yes that sweet lil’ dumplin’ centered atop their masterpiece is yours truly…)

…And here’s my disaster of an attempt at quilting at 13. (Cut me some slack, it was the 90s… that hair style was IN)

So when it came time to quilt, my mother’s best naggy-voice entered my head… “those squares aren’t cut straight….” “You’re not sewing the right seam allowance…” I stuck all the squares in a box and forgot about it.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, I found my box of quilt squares and decided I WILL get it done. See, I’m the kind of Type-A personality that doesn’t think “It must be perfect.” I think, “It must be DONE… NOW”. So I resumed my work on the quilt. A week or so later, and she was done. I even added some fabric letters atop that read “DREAM” and some vintage pom-pom style borders around the edges. I admire her.

She’s not perfect.
She’s not perfectly straight.
Her pattern isn’t perfect.
I think she’s lovely.
I’m convinced someone else may find her lovely enough to take home someday.
Here she is….


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