MY Piece of the Quilt~~~~~~~

looking back~~~~~~~~

All quilts must have a beginning. Much thought usually goes into the process even before any work effort is put into the quilt itself. Many questions are to be answered. What pattern will I use? What size do I want? Colors? Number of colors? Materials? Scrappy or formal? Will it be a gift? Is it one I've seen before and got the idea to try? Will it be handmade? Machine stitched? Quilted all over? Maybe, just hand tied (tacked)! That's assuming you really desire to tackle it. Chances are that there is a need and one uses whatever happens to be at hand. Many of the old quilts were made for that reason along.


On and on go the thought processes before the quilt is ever started; Then I've been known to even change my mind after the actual quilt is begun. Something may not work out just the way I had hoped it would. Of course, the computer helps to eliminate some of the doubts this day and age by showing what you have before you begin. Then on the other hand, it gives you too many choices to chose from. The pattern and color combinations are endless.

Thank you, Tree

In our own everyday lives we don't always get to make the choices. Circumstances may be such that we just have to accept them and build the pieces of our lives according to what life has given us. There are the beautiful pieces that fit together throughout that strengthen and support the weaker and less showy pieces. In the hands of a master a thing of beauty can begin to emerge from a simple lump of clay. A song of joy evolves as the master tunes and begins to play the musical instrument.


A very special lady touched my life a long time ago. She was a distant relative and lived so much of her life in seclusion. She and her husband, we all called him Uncle Charlie, lived not far from us. I always enjoyed going to her house to visit. Out in the backyard was a Spring House. It was covered with moss and ivy and on a very hot day it was the perfect place to sit and cool off. They still used it to cool their foods, even though others were using the ice boxes and the new fangled 'frig'ators.
Neva's story was a most sad one. She had carried seven babies. One time it was a set of twins.They were so small they both fit into a shoe box as a bed. Only one daughter lived past infancy. That one they named Bell. Sadly enough, Bell died while delivering her first child. They both died, and her little girl in her arms, they were buried together.


Neva was known across America for the quilts she handmade and quilted. Her days were spent in a little attic room at the top of the stairs. With only one lone dim light bulb and the light from the window she sat and quilted. I have some of her work even yet. But, more importantly I have some of her knowledge and wisdom.
When I was expecting my first born, I set out to make a baby quilt. Neva was gracious enough to give me the pattern for a little dutch girl quilt and enough different scraps of materials to make each of them different. She reminded me that when appliqueing to use the "tee- iin-ce-est" stitches with the smallest needle I had. To this day I always hear her words of caution when I start to quilt.


How many times in life do we forget to slow down and take that little bit of extra caution? Many times I could save myself a heap of problems if I had slowed down and worked more slowly. It's not always easy to take care and time in this busy, busy place we live in today. However, I think Neva would still be doing just as she was back then. The new fangled inventions didn't excite her that much.

HOBBIES: I like to quilt and presently a member of The Quilt Guild in Morganton,NC. I missed out on the Challenge for this year. I decided to just wait and do one for next year. Time is coming up now and I need to be considering doing a challenge project.


I have been taking some classes in Watercolors. Painting has been a joy for years, but this is my first experience with watercolors. It's exciting because when you begin a picture you can never be quite sure exactly how it will turn out. The colors have a mind of their own. Joseph and I took a course together last fall and may do another one together. It's a fun way to spend time one-on-one with a grandchild.

Add music(piano and singing), reading (Historic Novels), crafts of all kinds, grandchildren, the computer, swimming, and most recently, my surgeries, and I stay busy in my retirement. Hopefully, I can walk at the walking park again by Spring time. I also look forward to being able to once again attend my Church regularly. My bad knees have made going out hard on social activities and Church. Then, too, traveling is something I thoroughly enjoy doing. Carol and I are thinking about a trip to Reno.
Here are some of the different projects I have done along with a few of my Mother's and a picture done by my Father.



Guess this part of my quilt would best be referred to as The Drunkard's Path sort of episode since there were so many ways it could have gone. As I was cleaning out the file cabinet the other night, I came across the folder with all the events documented concerning the demise of my Suburban.
As things usually go you would not expect to have happen the things that took place with our family over this. It was Easter Sunday, April 7,l996. I was on my way back from church with my daughter-in-law. We were cruising along the country road from Collettsville when her cellular phone signaled. Her hubby (my son) was calling from work.
Daughter Number 1 had borrowed the GMC to take her family to visit her friends in the Washington, D.C. area. She had called Robert to find out the serial number, etc., because it was stolen from the Hilton (no less) parking lot during the night. That was excitement enough you would think. The tale evolved into a long ordeal.


After all the forms were filed, the insurance company notified, this done and that done... They had left most everything in the vehicle thinking it safer than the room being that it had the dark windows. She did go out about ten the evening before and get the Easter Bunny Fixings out for the boys. The children's two lap computer toys, books, coat, camera, cellular phone. It was all estimated at over $2000! By dinnertime the next day they had rented a car and headed back home. The key was left with her friend in case the GMC was found.

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As luck would have it,

"IT"

found the police!

A call came in to a Washington,D.C.,Police Station that there was a wreck at a certain corner. When the police arrived, there was my GMC with an eighteen year old sitting at the wheel waiting for them. Apparently he had lost control and hit a hydrant, or something. It was not driveable and was towed in to the Police Impound. The Police Department called wanting it picked up that night! That very next morning I signed the papers at the insurance office to be sent up D.C., giving my permission for its removal to a body shop.
{"What's that? Great!", you say? "It was found and fixable." I was lucky?} [I only wish!]


All right now, let's see. It was stolen in Virginia. It was recovered in D.C. The Virginia Police no longer had control over the case. Now the D.C. Police at this certain precinct would always say to us, "Sorry, but we can't give out that information. It's against our policy."
We heard all this, but never anything about any questions we had swirling around in our minds. But still, they (the police) estimated the damage at $3000. That didn't sound too bad, considering. Our friend went over and wanted to take pictures. They wouldn't let him. But still, it should be fixed fairly easy and not take too long.
How wrong can things go?


Finally, on the 25th of April I again went to the insurance office to sign a release form to be faxed up to the office in where-ever to give my permission for the GMC to be taken by the bodyshop. On the 29th, it was still impounded. I received a letter from Raleigh (North Carolina's Motor Vehical Department Office) notifying me to pick up my vehicle in D.C. They had received a letter from the head of that certain department up there concerning the fact that it was still impounded! The next day, I called the Raleigh Insurance Commissioner asking for help and guidance.
{"Ah!" You say? "Now she's getting smart! She should have done that earlier."} [I wish that would have been true!]
Finally! Wednesday, May 1,1997, it is brought out of impound! We are on our way!
Well, I'm here to say:"It ain't over,yet!"
I guess "they" (whomever it was calling the shots) thought I was just a hillbilly - backwoodsy - ingorant- redneck type - "being" and I wouldn't know any better about what was taking place.

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Our friend finally got to take pictures at the body shop and report back to us that it was nearly empty of everything.[Incidently, Daughter's insurance NEVER heard from my company letting them know about what was left in it. Her insurance finally paid them for the contents that were theirs just by word of mouth!]
The driver's door had a hole bored beside the lock to get in and then it was straight wired to drive away. Curiously enought, the tag was still on it and the registration card was the only thing left in the glove compartment. I got my first view of the damage on May 18,l997.
Go to Sally Janes's place for the next installment. There's lots more to come!! Believe me!!


I love flowers. Time was when I had flowers everywhere there was a place to set one. Each fall they were all loaded up and carted off to school to spend the cold months in the window of my classroom, the library shelves in the media center,and some hung in the cafeteria. The school children loved to help water and care for them and we always had a science lesson or two using them.
While I was teaching Kindergarten one of the highlights of the year for them was getting to plant their own Mother's Day flower on the first day of spring and care for it until Mother's Day. Usually by then the flower would be blooming; ready for the trip home. They loved doing different experiments using flowers, too.
Today the flowers have died or been given away. The ones outdoors are in sad shape to say the least. Somewhere along the way all that energy that was put into the flowers, trees, and shrubs has been used up. There are a few african violets in the kitchen and I offer starts of the outside ones to whomever would care to take some. In the house now hang baskets of silk. The folks say how pretty, etc, but I still would enjoy real ones better. Nothing beats the joy of a pretty (real)flower!

Seems that my family has not had a lot of luck finding a Rich millionaire hiding around waiting for one of them to snare for me!
Here is a very touching poem about a child's view of living in an adult world. Please read it and just maybe you would like to add a link for it to your page.


I'll just have to settle for an afternoon in the shade of the old apple tree, alone with my Charlie Dog, Homero, and a cool glass of iced tea........and a good book or two, or better yet, the ole laptop.
....So stop by later and check to see how things are progressing.

It was good of you to sit a spell and rest in the swing. Listen! The birds are singing to each other. There is the sound of the water as it splashes over the rocks. The sun is hot. In the distance is the sound of the trucks on the Interstate Highway. The beagles have found the trail of a rabbit, perhaps. Hear them baying? Enjoy the cool drink as you rest......Such a nice lazy summer day.
Here are some awards I am honored to accept.

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Yorktown.
© 1997 - 2002 by Stormy Jeanne
Credit has been given on credit pages. If I have omitted any let me know.

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