I have been trying to write this post for a week. I can’t put my finger on what it is I want to say.
The family of a recently deceased guild member invited us into her home last week to shop her fabric stash. Two dollars a pound. I keep trying to find words for how this made me feel. I don’t seem to have the words.
A while back I was with quilting buddies in Holdrege and there was a garage sale at the senior citizen’s center. I spied a beat-up brown grocery sack with “50¢” scrawled on the side.
The sack was full of old fabric scraps, and a quick look told me they were mostly small pieces. But for a price like that, I wasn’t about to leave them behind.
Recently I heard a wonderful guild program given by two local quilters. They have quilts made by women over six generations of their family. You read that right—six generations! It was an unusual and interesting approach.
