The Old New Old Quilt

I just finished making a quilt for my Aunt Thelma (Actually my cousin Thelma once removed, but who can say that every time?). She asked me to make it for her from blocks sewn by her mother Edith many years ago. Some of the blocks were made from dresses Aunt Thelma wore as a child and that was over 75 years ago. (I promised I wouldn’t give Aunt Thelma’s exact age!) The age and the memories are part of the wonderful oldness of the quilt.


The newness is found in the construction, the backing (which only looks old), the muslin used for the sashing and the gingham border. All these were used, of course, to add to the old look of the whole quilt. Are you confused yet?

I couldn’t find the pattern name listed anywhere. It’s possible Miss Edith made it up herself or it was a local favorite. I did find a similar pattern called Rolling Stone, which certainly seems to fit. It is however, a very old pattern, which I just adore.


The quilting stitch is also an old familiar style called Feathering. It gives the quilt a charm and age that is so appropriate.

The quilt is going with me to California in May to be given to Aunt Thelma. She will be so surprised! She has no idea it is done and ready to be loved and adored, just like her dresses were so many years ago.

Of An Age

John McCutcheon’s new album 22 Days is now out. He is a truly gifted songwriter, author, storyteller and singer. His songs are meaningful and sometimes life-changing. One of the songs from this album really struck me and I share it with you now.

I am of an age,
When tomorrow is not promised and each day is a gift.
I raise a prayer of thanks that I can take a good long piss.
Sleep uninterrupted in a bed or in a chair,
And my glasses are exactly where I left them there.

I am of an age,
I fall in love more easily than I did at first
With babies and with old dogs, with the outcast and the cursed.
Forget what I remembered made me mad and haunted,
And kept the promised joy at bay from all I claimed I wanted.

I am of an age,
When I have seen myself at my best and at my worst.
I have had enough good whiskey. I no longer know the thirst.
I can speak of God without embarrassment or worry.
I know the time is short but I nonetheless won’t hurry.
I am of an age.

I am of an age,
I too often say I love you. I can cry without regret.
When boots that fit still matter and some things I will forget.
When boots that fit still matter and memory is long.
Dancing is familiar and I still break out in song.

I am of an age,
I am humbled by my ignorance. Wisdom is a crown.
I will reach for Carmen’s hand as the day is dying down.
There are books I’ll never read, songs I’ll leave unwritten.
Death is in this life, still by wonder I’ll be smitten.

I am of an age,
I know there’ll come a time when my voice will not be heard,
So I savor every melody and am careful with each word.
I will leave this work to others. Forgive their youthful faults.
Take my place among the world of memory and thoughts.

I am of an age.