It was a period when I thought I'd probably never do anything well ever again.
My cousins from Sweden visited soon after the baby was born. When we showed them the quilt and the ribbon, someone commented, "That's beautiful, but this is the same kind of ribbon they give the pigs. You should have had a nicer ribbon."
I'm thinking about this quilt right now because it's State Fair time.
Because my thoughts are with the woman I gave it to.
Because I still have two sister pillows kicking around that need retiring.
In the process of trying to find pictures of this original quilt, now 9 years later, I ran across images of cats who are no longer living.
Of a bedroom I no longer sleep in.
Of a baby who is now a little ... no ... a big boy.
Of a man who has a lot more grey hair.
Of marriages that lasted, or didn't last, and others that will always need mending and ongoing care.
This quilt is gone from my life. All I'm left with are patterns dutifully followed and plans that drastically changed, all bits and scraps and the fragility of life.
The ultimate prize.