Not much news has happened but the best news is that no one has been sick with that terrible virus. We are blessed that my brother, Jim Frye, is home after a close call with congestive heart failure. Jean is learning to cook differently with no salt and heart healthy meals. We love Jim and we trust he will live, as I have done for many years, a much longer life. Good luck with the diet.
Jean gave me some news of who visited one Sunday after Jim came home. They had 12 people who shared time together for a glorious day including Jim and Jean, Justin and Kelsey, (Wyatt’s dad) Tony and Wyatt Ingerson, Maynard Lawson, Janus and Danny Dry, Rusty Frye, Autum Miller, Vickie, Clinton and Jackson Prock. Vickie brought the sermon at Clark Church with around 20 in attendance.
I got to go to be with church family on Sunday when Vickie and Clinton and Jackson picked me up. Jackson is a very nice well-mannered young man with a rich personality.
Then the Sunday after, our family got together for a joyous together time. It seemed like forever I was at home. All of Greg’s family and most all Only of Karen’s enjoyed Greg’s hamburgers and hot dogs and Kevin’s french fries and many sides, but most of all seeing one another and I must not forget our Peggy Adkisson, who is one of our family. She fits right in to our group. She Norma Evans, and I enjoyed eating and talking together. And of course the fur babies the Dude and Weezie were enjoying the crumbs some of which were generous. Kim and Bobby came to my house on Saturday. It seemed like forever since we had been together. It seemed like forever we had been together. Bobby has grown so much and his hair had also. Karen gave him a good haircut.
They had to leave too soon as Kim had to go to work.
Ruby Lee had to work and she was missed.
Well things are getting somewhat back to normal but I fear things will never be normal again.
So lets just be thankful that everything is in God’s hands and for all His many blessings in our lives.
I have stayed home with no one coming to my house since this whole unimaginable madness began. Not because I am afraid of dying but by the way I die; I am concerned; and I must add by concern of my kids, who insist on caution.
And I miss everyone but a lot of missing people and habitual pastimes has to do with the Nimble Thimble Friends. We have met (every) week for many years and enjoyed together our talents for creating and sharing our joys and our sorrows. And it is foreign to our nature to be apart. But we have worked at home on our club projects and continued our love of sewing.
I continue hemming and Jean brought me appliquéing and embroidery work and I finished hemming my last quilt for family members. I made and the ladies quilted a youth quilt for my great-grandson, Bobby Weyrauch. I have given each of my family members a quilt and gave my kids a Granny quilt that my mom, Lee Degase “Granny” pieced and quilted. I have always been a domestic person by necessity but a quilter by passion. I can no longer quilt because of arthritic fingers but I am one of those extremely fortunate people who gets to spend a lot of time doing things I take pleasure from anyway. Two of the things is writing of my friends and family for the Douglas County Herald and going to quilting club every week. We are meeting again but I haven’t gone yet.
Recently I commented to a friend that I wished I could to more at club so as to contribute more than I do. Her reaction took me by surprise “You are a writer and you have documented much of our past in our scrapbook and what about all those early quilters you admire? I think you should value the lessons learned from them and in sharing those women we all admire?”
Well frankly I was thankful for her reaction but I hadn’t anticipated and furthermore many of the women I speculated about were overworked and perpetually exhausted. Who wouldn’t be when faced with the task of providing warm bedding for a dozen kids,m and who stitched through the years with painfully gnarled fingers. They would have been blessed to own one of the early Singer treadle machines and when they were fortunate enough to own one they must have thought it a gift straight from heaven.
So what can we learn from hearing of old quilts and their makers? Quite a lot. My own life personally, has been enriched by old quilts from grandmothers and moms. I think of those countless women who left their mark on time with the quilts they stitched. Our grandmothers left us a colorful, rich legacy – one in which I’m proud and happy to be contributing in my own small way.
So we can learn from the women who saved scraps from clothing of their children; We learn the value of mementos that last through the passage of time.
From those women who found in quilting their only outlet for creativity and desires. We learn to explore our own artistic abilities.
From the women who created masterpieces from the tiniest scrapes of cotton and calico; we learn the lesson of thrift.
From the young girls who learned to quilt by creating clumsy doll quilts, as they learned from mothers and grandmothers; we learn of the warm bond of sharing through generations.
From these long ago women who spent long brutal months piecing a quilt from bits of fabric, the only source of color and beauty in their lives; we learn to savor the joys of brightness and hue.
From the women who invited their friends to the quilting club, we learn the warm satisfaction of loving new members; namely in our club, Alma, Kimmee and Theda.
And from all the women who wrapped their artistry around those they cared about; we learn the immeasurable value of homemade love.
I see quilting as one of the few historical pastimes that is still pursued today. We are part of many creative and talented women so we must share all that we have learned with those who appreciate the legacy given them, that they be enriched as were we.