I made more Postage Stamp strip sets today. A few hours’ worth. I don’t know what gets into me, other than the fact that I LOVE fabric. Even more, I love fabric next to other fabric, and next to other fabric, and on it goes. Sometimes I think, “I’ll just do one more” and the moment I think those words, I know I’m in trouble, because it never happens. I have to kick myself for even trying to think it.
Here is a poem I thought about today as I sewed. The sink was full of dishes, the yard was calling for help, and the laundry is still unfolded on the bed. But all I could think of was the grandkids who will love these adorable I Spy quilts someday.
My neighbor is washing her windows,
And scrubbing and mopping her floors,
But my house is all topsy and turvy,
And dust is behind all the doors.
My neighbor, she keeps her house spotless,
And she goes all day on a trot:
But no one would know in a fortnight
If she swept today or not.
The task I am at is enticing–
My neighbor is worn to a rag–
I am making a quilt out of pieces
I saved in a pretty chintz bag.
And the quilt, I know my descendants
Will exhibit with credit to me–
“So lovely – my grandmother made it
Long ago in 1933.”
But will her grandchildren remember
Her struggles with dirt and decay?
They will not–
they will wish she had made them
The quilt I am making today.
Clipping from newspaper found on p. 99, column 3
“Patchwork Quilts” (Scrapbook #1) Carrie Hall
Collection, Spencer Museum, Lawrence, KS.