We’ve been asleep at the switch. Our second blogiversary was back in July, and we didn’t even mark it with a yoo-hoo or anything.
Yesterday’s mail brought me fresh evidence of how blogging has lifted me up from the mire of bloglessness. Two years ago, you were not an actual real-life person to me. People thought it was kind of kooky, the way I kept talking about my “co-blogger”, my “friend” , “Ann”, who lived in “Nashville”, a place I’d never been. They thought my country music “thing” had gone around the bend and now I was writing myself letters from Nashville. (Hey, I was just kidding when I started calling Hubby ‘Jerry Jeff’.)
Since then, we’ve met in person, I’ve been to Nashville, you’ve returned to your old stomping grounds in New York, we’ve sewn up many an afghan, quaffed many an Amstel, and snarfed many a Cheeto together. Crikey, we’ve even written our little Dream Knitting Book, which may actually appear in real-life bookstores next spring.
But until yesterday, it wasn’t QUITE real yet. But I guess you must exist, if:
…your sister-in-law is sending me a vintage quilt in the mail. I mean, Mary Neal wouldn’t send me a quilt if you, and therefore she, were totally fictional, would she?
I am gobsmacked. Mary Neal had written me that she has had this quilt for many years, that it is in sad shape, that she doesn’t have room to move it to Chicago with her, and that she doesn’t mind if I cut it up and transform it into cushions or some such. I was eager to have that kind of liberty with an Ancient Textile. As a general principle, when something has survived to a great age, I feel like it would be a sin to tear it up. But I figured that since this was a windfall quilt, a stranger with no emotional claims on me, I could do it.
But now that I’ve seen it, I don’t think I can. I mean, look at it. Isn’t it gracious? Isn’t it sweet? See how the embroidery is worn thin as parchment, but has never been snagged or torn?
It’s just tired, is all.
Even the shredded places have a dignity.
It’s not stained. It doesn’t even smell bad. I don’t see how I can take the scissors to it.
So if there are any quilters out there, please give me some ideas on how to fix it up. I don’t want to restore it so much as make it usable and happy, and give it back some life. I was thinking of adding a border on top of the ragged areas, in a colored fabric or fabrics, so that it is obviously NOT original. Like an old house, you know…..just adding a wing so it can carry on for another 70 years.
New Log Cabin
This sun-dappled log cabin was crocheted by Nibal in Sugar ‘n Cream dishcloth cotton. (Didn’t I tell you the dishcloth cotton colors are amazing? Were you listening?) I marvel at the beautiful texture and straight lines of the crochet. I cannot crochet straight edges. Just cannot do it. Glad somebody can.
Nibal signed her name like this:
Friend de Ann
Friend de Angela
Former citizen de Nashville
Dream future citizen of NYC 🙂
So surely you exist. Unless I’ve made up Nibal, too.