Lots of colored baskets! Well, not a whole lot. Eight, actually, all with different fabrics in the basket and in the background. I thought they would go more quickly, but I’ve been tired in the evenings after work, so I’m poking along. Can’t seem to drag my behind down to the basement to sew on the machine. I’m going to try hand piecing one tonight and see how that goes. It’s hard to see the fabrics in these with this photo… I particularly like the backgrounds! They will be on point in the quilt, with sashing between them, I think. Or not. Who knows?
Hang on, you can see them close-up another day!
I’m on Facebook.
I’m one of thousands of quilters meeting daily to chat and talk about patterns, colors, fabrics, crystals, applique, piecing, postcards… and then some. I’ve met new friends, renewed old acquaintances, and seen so many beautiful quilts that I would othwise never have seen. Just a few minutes ago, I looked through an album of absolutely amazing quilts at the Bodensee Quilt Festival
that were posted by Nicole Skof. Nicole is from Germany, and the quilts were on display this month. Absolutely stunning! If you can’t see the pictures Nicole posted, try this site
or do a search on Google.
If you’re not on Facebook, you don’t know what you’re missing. Come on, give it a try! It’s a great place to talk with other quilters from around the world!
Persistence pays off.
My Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandfather, Nathaniel Blackmer fought in the Revolutionary War
. In his lifetime, he was not given the recognition he deserved, as no one could find his service records. He persisted until the day he died, trying to prove his loyalty to the U.S.
Turns out they had misspelled his last name. In May of 2009, he was honored with a plaque after the misspelling was discovered by persistent family members. A ceremony complete with honor guard was held to put his plaque in place in Richfield Union Cemetary in Davison. Dad and I visted the historic cemetary yesterday, with graves dating back to the 1700’s. Way to go, Grandpa Blackmer!
“If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”
Betty Ruth Covert, my mom.
I know, your mom probably said the same thing. This was my mom’s most famous expression, and it is ingrained on my soul. Please, when you are posting online or sending an email to an entire group of people, don’t talk bad about someone or scold them publicly. Think before you post. Nobody likes a public spanking. How do I know? Ouch! Feeling the pains this morning.
I posted before about this beautiful old home in the historic neighborhood of Overbrook, Pennsylvania. This home was owned by my Great Aunt Estelle Klicker Scott and her husband Carl Scott. Overbrook Farms
is in Philadelphia, and is an awesome neighborhood on the historic register. If you love architecture, you will want to go to this link
and look around. WOW!
Anyway, the photo above is one that my mom had of Aunt Estella’s house. Mom lived there for a short while after high school, before she went to Michigan State University. Uncle Carl’s family were part owners in Pittsburgh Plate Glass.
I wanted to find out more about our family genealogy and this magnificent house, so I contacted the Overbrook Farms Club, the nation’s oldest home owners association. I sent them a few photos of the house, and Melanie, a sweet gal who works there, went to work. She posted the picture on their ListServe, and I started getting emails from many different people who don’t know me. They drove around the neighborhood looking for the home to see if it still stands. They looked in historical books about the neighborhood. They did research. They drove around in their cars taking photos of homes. And then, this morning, I received this from Chris Hinkle-Brown:
That’s the house! You have no idea how fabulous it was to receive this photo, taken this morning shortly after sunrise! Thanks, Chris! Another member of the club lives right next door, and several other people are doing research for me. One of the members is a quilter!
The world is full of wonderful people who are happy to help others.
Be one of those people!
They really put a smile on your face, a skip in your step, and love in your heart.
Thank you, new friends!
ZZZzzz… Saturday was cold and cloudy. There was even a little rain in the morning. Nothing much to do except be lazy and lay around on quilts… or sew some. Stormie did the laying, I did the sewing. I was pretty much a basket case. Still not feeling my perky self, but sewing baskets. I only completed two, but I’m happy with how they turned out. The background is different in each block on this quilt.
It was back to work today, and of course the sun is shining and the temp is warmer. Ahhh yes, such is the life when you live in Michigan. Anybody in a warmer climate need a guest?
My Grandpa Covert was a sweet man. He affectionally called me “Plugger” from as early as I can remember. I didn’t have to walk much at my grandparent’s house, as Grandpa loved to carry me around and show me things. Things like chocolate fudge cookies that he would sneak out of Grandma’s cookie jar. I hold him responsible for my wicked sweet tooth!
Grandpa had a stubborn streak, though. He’d set his mind on something, and there was no way in God’s green earth that you were going to get him to change his mind.
My dad inherited that gene. The Stubborn gene. He has passed it on to my brother.
My brother and I are about 8 years apart. I was adopted. He was a SURPRISE! But he got the gene. And it has ahold of him tightly and won’t let go.
When you have a headache for two weeks straight, you go to the doctor. When the doctor is concerned and wants to send you for an MRI, you don’t argue, you GO!
Nope. Don’t need the thing. Costs too much. It will go away on its own, and if it doesn’t, oh well.
Brothers. It doesn’t matter if you are ten or fifty years old. Sometimes they just need a good whacking!