Quilting

I am probably not a real quilter.  Real quilters crank out several quilts each year, or even each month.  I must be a quilter wannabe.  I have many starts, many plans, and many nearly-dones.  But my annual quota is far surpassed by the folks I call "Quilters in the Know".

They know how to start.  How to plan, to assess.  How to gauge fabric and backing and binding: piecing, basting, tying or quilting... Time.

Tonight I went up to the art room and some familiar fabric caught my eye:  from my grandmother, Gram.  My sister Barb gave it to me some time before she, my only sister, passed away eight years ago.  Gram had given Barb this fabric, and now I have it, to do something creative.

And that is where I am this evening, loving the generations that are my family.

Here is a quilt I finished last year, a bargello quilt for my niece Katarina:

 And now, I am going back upstairs to look at the age-old fabric that my sister gave me, that our grandmother, Gram, gave her.

Like Marthe Stewart in the old days: 

"It's a good thing."