She has storied to tell
May 27, 2024

Old cloth, like old people, is where the stories live.

Spring is coming where I live. I know this because as the light begins the day I hear birds singing.

I treasure the first morning that I hear this. I lay awake and listen and feel all the hope of another spring. I imagine and remember the increase of energy, and the multiplying of things to look forward to.
Just as these first pre-cursors of spring arrived this year a new thing happened for me (to me?).
The application to apply for my senior citizen pension arrived in my mailbox!
So I guess this means it isn't my spring that is arriving this year!


(Hanay with what was left of the dyed yarn fabric bolts after cutting fabric for Quilt Canada Show, Vancouver, 2022)

If you know me, you know I am laughing, and you know I am going to reconstruct this to mean not the end of my summer, but the spring of my aging.

Because, really, why not?
And as long as we are on the subject of things that get better as they get older :-D, lets talk about things we have made with cloth.
They were there when....

(I was so young when I stitched this embroidery that the fabric is yellowed! But its just always been 'there' when I'm setting scary goals.)

Our old quilts, cushions, table toppers, mended clothing, and soft toys were there when our lives where happening.

And the longer they have been 'around' in our lives, at the celebrations, and in the grieving times, at the big family events, and on the 'everyday' days, the more of our memories they hold for us.
old quilt and toys
(They were there when... My first quilt, and 'Yellow Bear' who is wearing a sweater my mom fashioned for a doll for me over 50 years ago, and the 'Patchy' dog I've written about elsewhere, whose stories go back almost 80 years :-))
I have this old quilt. It is nothing special but it is my first quilt and sewing it got me through a very hard season in my early 20's. It contains 750 squares cut from old clothing. It is backed with an old bedsheet and is worn see-through in areas where the cloth was poor quality. It has covered beds and bodies, been wept on and cuddled under, and turned into chair forts. It once spent months in a hospital with one of my daughters about 25 years ago. Last summer I used it to cover a window to keep the sun out. From my 20's to my 60's it was there when....
I have hated it and loved it over the years for its associations.
I can read my whole adult life in this quilt.
These things we make, and use, wash and mend, and use some more, stay with us through the years, reminders of the stories that add up to who we are.
Our tables, beds, even our houses change with the years, but the cloth we sew, use, and take with us from place to place keeps our long stories, our history.
Old cloth, like old people, is where our long stories live.
She has stories to tell :-)


As always, I wish you happy sewing and stitching.

Until next time,