Well, two years later and I have discovered that my blog is actually up and working. I am still quilting, the treadles are still residing in my house and my stash has grown even bigger. I will post regularly now that I know I can be seen by the world. To Maureen, my fellow quilter and friend who has been the first to comment here, thankyou! I actually got her sewing on my Jones hand crank a couple of weeks ago however no photos were taken of her stirling effort, unfortunately. She handled it like a pro. I now teach quilting and had set the girls the task of sewing on some of the old machines. Nan, who sewed for fashion houses in her day, loved every minute of it. I will post photos of their next sewing day when they next come. We call oursleves "The Coffee,Cake and Jazz" quilt group and Tuesdays see the girls sewing along to the strains of Glenn Miller and his Big Band and other wonderful old tunes.
FROM THE SHEARING SHED
My mother is leaving, she has terminal cancer. The saddest part is you suddenly realise that your connection to your distant childhood past is going with her. Who will you talk to about stories from so long ago. The night she gathered up the autumn oak leaves from the road in the car headlights, the air bitter and cold. They magically became a fancy dress piece titled "Autumn" for my school presentation evening. She has forgotten it now, I tried to tell her the other day it is one of my favourite childhood memories. I have been working with rusting fabrics and making wall quilts. My childhood was spent in the country around Armidale and I used to spend hours in my grandfather's wool shed, I can still see the sunlight on the floor there. The rusted quilts are all created with my memory of shed walls and rusting tractors and tin rooves. So today I am putting this piece up in honour of my mum. She may have forgotten a lot now...
My first machine was a hand cranked Singer, which was still in my possession until seven years ago.
ReplyDeleteLike they say about riding a bike---you never lose the knack.