Harvest Weekend

November 9, 2013January 10, 2026 Elizabeth E.12 Comments

With pumpkins and tawny hues and brown grasses prevalent in the colors at this time of year and in the Northern Hemisphere, falling temperatures, it triggers the idea of harvest: cutting the wheat, gathering the last of the fall vegetables, All Is Safely Gathered In, and that sort of thing. Well, what constitutes a harvest?

It all starts with seeds, a planting of an idea, a sowing of labor with the yield some time off in the future. An idea, like beginning to learn how to make Amish quilts from a book, as I sat in the scorching heat of a Dallas Texas summer many years ago, sweat running down my back reading Roberta Horton’s Amish Adventure.

I had escaped to the back porch for three minutes peace from the marauding hordes of hot tired children in watching some movie on the VCR, steeping my mind in the stillness of these stunning quilts.

Strong graphic design and the muted, yet brilliant, colors enticed me, and I began small, with doll quilts, experimenting in the shapes, the colors. At that time the best we could hope in terms of solid fabrics was a mix of cottons and polyester-cottons. Purists would gasp now, but we had just barely graduated from using cardboard templates with taped edges to cutting out the lids of margarine tubs to use instead.

Roberta Horton’s book, first published in 1983, rocked my tiny isolated world of quilting.

I moved from doll quilt-sized quilts to a larger wall quilt, still unfinished. And then to a larger quilt, laid out in rows in the corner of my bedroom for weeks, while I refined the gradations of color.

I had drawn out Sunshine and Shadow on graph paper, trying to figure out the coloration, mimicking what I saw in fabric. This was early in my quilting career: all of my quilts on this post are numbers 10 and 11 quilts on my 100 Quilts list. I also made a faceless doll to match what I’d heard were common in the Amish country. And then, Amish Quilting was the first quilt class I ever taught, in a small shop in Arlington, Texas, now defunct, and yes, we made a doll quilt, and yes, we used Roberta Horton’s book.

Back to the Sunshine and Shadow, I figured out the borders, sandwiched with flannel (as she noted that Amish quilts were flatter than our fluffy renditions) and I began quilting it by hand, criss-cross, and then cut paper patterns for a twined-vine border design.

The seed planted by Horton and her quilts and her book is now in a second harvest, if that’s possible. Last summer, C & T Publishers put out a call for Amish quilts of all types to be considered for a new rendition of An Amish Adventure. I submitted my photographs and had one quilt accepted. The book has now been released and is titled Amish Quilts–The Adventure Continues, and it as much a celebration of that first book in C & T’s publishing history as it is the style and cultural contribution of the Amish quilt–certainly a forerunner to today’s modern quilts.

Here’s my doll quilt, made so many years ago. I now consider it as an entry in the first round of strong bold graphic designs and solid fabrics. In the book, mine is right next to Weeks Ringle and Bill Kerr, of the Modern Quilt Studio and Craft Nectar blog. I certainly did do a happy dance in the kitchen as I opened up the package.

You can get the book from the C & T Publishing website and from Amazon.com. My mother already has her copy, so I know it is shipping. If you haven’t had a chance to make yourself an Amish quilt, perhaps now is the time, before too many more harvests stride past.

I like to think about harvests, as to me it always indicates a leap of faith somewhere. At some point I made a quilt, and now can “raise the song of harvest home.”

Childhood’s Wide Avenues

November 1, 2013November 1, 2013 Elizabeth E.20 Comments

4-in-art_3

Childhood’s Wide Avenues is a quilt about memory, of fixing in time a place and a feeling. I grew up in the mountain west, in Provo, Utah, a town laid out in a grid of wide avenues, criss-crossed with streets that seemed to me to be wide as the sky, although I’m sure if I went back there now, they would be reduced in size and dimension. But that feeling that I could ride my bike to the top of the street near our house and see all the way down to my elementary school, or across the valley, or to the other side of the world has remained in my memory.

The possibilities were infinite.

A few weeks ago, as I was thinking about this quilt and how to express the theme of Urban/Maps, I found myself traveling down another very wide avenue through the middle of a town very unlike where I grew up: San Bernardino, California. But the boulevard was so wide and so straight and I could see it head in a straight line for miles, up into the foothills, that I felt as if I had been transported in an instant back to an earlier place and time. But it seemed impossible, until I learned that Mormon pioneers, a branch off the same tree that laid out Provo, had also laid out the wide avenues of this town two states away, in the early 1850s. Asked to settle this place far from their original homes in the Utah valley, they laid out a grid of wide avenues, and gave them names like Salt Lake Street, Kirtland Street, Nauvoo Street, and Utah Street. These have all been renamed, but those early pioneers left their stamp on the valley not only by naming the cemetery Pioneer Cemetery, but by etching long, wide avenues into the landscape.

I had heard about memory being triggered by sounds, and by smells, but never had experienced memory being triggered by a sense of space, of a geographical series of landmarks making headway into my childhood memories. For days afterward, I thought of the family I grew up in, and found pictures to place on my quilt that evoked a sense of that time (that’s me, above).

Who populates these fictional houses on my quilt? The large pink house is my parents’ and the block below contains houses for my husband and I, and our four children and their families, while the blocks surrounding that central block are where my sisters and brothers might live. And because all of their spouses will want their own families, I scattered the grid of avenues with more houses, so that the circle of family would have place and space. A dream, of course, as none of our children, nor any of my family live near us. But in my world, in my memory, we are all there: gathering Easter eggs on the front lawn, jumping in piles of leaves, finding tarantulas in the fissures in the hillside, cracking open walnuts, and smelling the lilacs at the end of the driveway — lovely, amber-colored scenes.

Tomorrow I’ll deconstruct the quilt, describing the technical side of how I put it together. But for now, more quilts depicting this theme of Urban/Maps can be found at:

Leanne of She Can Quilt

Rachel of The Life of Riley

Betty from her Flickr site

Amanda of What the Bobbin?

Nancy of Patchwork Breeze

Anne of SpringLeaf Studios

Carla of Lollyquiltz

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This is a finished goal on my Quarter Three of the 2013 Finish-A-Long, hosted by Leanne of She Can Quilt.

It is also Quilt # 124 on my 200 Quilts List.

Quilts

Santa So Far

October 28, 2013October 28, 2013 Elizabeth E.18 Comments

I received two more blocks from my bee-mates today, and it was a good conclusion to a Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day in class.

One boy cried, but not because of anything I said or did (horrors! how could he let English interfere with what he was thinking about as he sat in my classroom?) Thirteen of the seventeen students that managed to come to class were unprepared, madly trying to finish up their assignment as they smiled and looked at me. Four students were perfect. I love them. Three had emailed me that they couldn’t come to class with the following reasons: “I have a migraine and don’t feel so well,” “My mom’s stew didn’t sit so well and I don’t want to be running out of class all the time,” and “I have to be somewhere at 3.” (Our class begins at 3:00.)

After trying for nearly an hour to get the class off the ground, I made everyone sit down from where they were crowding around my desk, seeking help, and said, “You aren’t prepared. Is it my fault? Shall we postpone the next essay?” And then I had what one of our teachers calls a “Come to Jesus” moment, when we re-acquaint them with the Truth, which is that not only does the teacher need to be prepared for class, but the students do too. “And today, you are not prepared,” I said, calling for a break to clear the air, dismiss the crying young man (family problems), and figure out where to go next.

So it was lovely to to come home to the two newest blocks, and I arranged them up on the wall, along with the one I’d made to replace Linda’s. She gets a Full Pass on making quilt blocks because three weeks ago her home burned to the ground. They escaped with their cat and their hard drive and not much else. I’ll think of her every time I look at 54-40, or Fight. Makes a bad day at class look pretty trivial, doesn’t it?

Maybe my bad day really began last night as I worked on the block? Don’t worry. I “un-stitched” it, flipped around the row, and put it back together properly.

I can only write about this now because a good colleague interrupted her grading to listen to me whine all the way home.

Of course, she took my side. (Thanks, Judy.) And doesn’t Santa look great, surrounded by lovely quilt blocks made by lovely friends?

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Four more days until we reveal our Four-in-Art Quilts. Come back and see the art on November 1st.

200 Quilts · FAL · Finish-A-Long · Quilts · Schnibbles

Pacific Grove Blues

October 25, 2013 Elizabeth E.13 Comments

Oh, yes, you’ve seen this before, but only (as the Australians say) as a flimsy, a quilt top. So I needed to get a few projects done and finished and this was next on the list. I was originally going to name it Sand and Sea, but changed my mind to keep it fresh.

This is the block, made in fours and arranged into the quilt. The original post has more information about the pattern, if you’re interested.

I call it Pacific Grove Blues, because of the time we spent in Northern California last month walking along the coastal path in that very interesting town. I don’t have the label for this quilt finished yet, but will, soon. Of course, I visited the fabric store that was there, Back Porch Fabrics; look for the review of that in an upcoming post.

It also hearkens back to an earlier quilt, titled The Blues of Carmel, made from a fat quarter purchased there, and homage to my mother’s blue blue eyes.

We watched these waves every morning, trying to get to the walking just before sunrise. A peak experience, as my Dad would say.

It can now join my growing stack of Schnibbles on top of the guest room armoire. My husband keeps asking me what I’m going to do with all of these little quilts. I really have no idea. Table toppers for holidays (especially the last one, that’s all patriotic)? Doll quilts for the granddaughters? (But I’ve already made them all doll quilts.)

What would you do with a bunch of little quilts? Any ideas, besides stack them up and enjoy them? We’ve all heard quoted a million times that factoid from the book by Malcolm Gladwell about how it takes 10,000 hours of practice to get really good at anything. I figure by cranking these out, I’m keeping those 10,000 hours of practice alive and going. I don’t really know how much longer I will continue to do these Schnibbles, but I have to say that Carrie Nielson of Miss Rosie’s pattern company always has solid designs and colorations, and I can always keep learning something new about how to piece something, or put a combo together, or be exposed to a new block and its possibilities. I like keeping my options open.

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