I like the stories that a stack of quilts tells. My Great grandmother was a quilter. As I have mentioned previously, she lived with my grandparents towards the end of her life. After school I would sometimes drop by and visit with her. Mainly I just threaded her needles and watched as she worked. She was a shy woman, but very peaceful, and I enjoyed asking her questions and hearing her stories. She had arrived from California via the airlines. She loved to fly she said. Her son, my Uncle Bill, bought her a special traveling outfit which was slacks. She told me that she felt almost indecent wearing slacks ... she must have been at least 75 years older than I, probably more. I loved her and I enjoyed her soft spokenness and her openness - there was no telling what she might say, but she chose her words carefully and was so ladylike. It makes me smile to think of her. She was half Cherokee and as tall as I am with laughing golden green eyes and soft shining white hair.



She explained to me that quilts were made from the usable scraps of worn out clothing. Here is the dress I wore to ... and the edge from that old table cloth ... this was ... . She wandered through with a story for this piece and that piece. She saw quilting as an art form and I'm thinking now maybe as a way of preserving her memories.

I have a stack of quilts that I like quite a bit.

I started remembering her this morning as I updated my photo blog. It is a lot like a quilt. Each photo holds a story for that day. Each photo holds a second that in turn holds a scrap from that day. My daughter suggested we do it together and I thought yes in support of her, but it has turned out so far to be my project, and I enjoy it immensely. She may "catch up", either way is perfectly fine. I enjoy very much adding my photos and looking back at previous ones. I like seeing the trends of what I like to look at and how I like to see things. It's a lot of fun.