I saw Toshi a few days ago and she came bearing gifts – delightful sacks of fabric scraps. One was silk, the other indigo cotton.
The Japanese silks were from Toshi’s sewing basket. A friend had sent her some fabrics from Kyoto, others Toshi had kept from her sewing days. There was a baker’s dozen silk remnants in all colors, sizes, and weights. The light reflected off all those colors delights my soul!
And, then, there was the dress in another bag. Indigo. I don’t know how old. Toshi wouldn’t guess, either. She had begun deconstructing the dress because the indigo is so precious, so beautiful, it needed to be reused somehow. For sure, it does. I am thrilled beyond belief. I was delighted to find woven cotton earlier this year (in black), with a variety of weaves across the yardage. But to have this in indigo blue, in fabric with a history, oh, my, my.
Even the bags in which Toshi brought these delights were thrilling to me. The silk remnants were in a small plastic bag with French writing, the outer bag was a Japanese store’s bag with, as you would expect, practical, simple, elegant handles. And the moment of serendipity came when I realized the dress was in a bag imprinted with the name of a church where Jim’s great-grandfather was once the preacher. And Toshi has no knowledge of that family history.
Isn’t it fascinating how time and people are woven together?
I’ve incorporated some of the indigo cotton into some blocks I’m hand stitching and I’ve cut squares from each of the silks to make a sampler piece. The rest will be incorporated into my silk collection for a stunning project. I think I have enough variety now to make something special.
An update on the baskets on my design wall – they are now assembled into one unit. The moment when many blocks become one piece of fabric, a quilt top, is always satisfying to me. In this case, there were 39 blocks and 22 setting triangles stitched together. Now it’s pinned to my design wall while I contemplate whether to add borders or not, and, if so, what they will look like.
I’m including two photos in the progress of assembling the blocks. The green bits of tape were used to number blocks as I moved them to the sewing machine, the safety pins reminded me which way to press the seams so they nested when the rows were sewn together.
Sarah Beth, Sarah Bob, Sarah Frances. Margaret Ann, Lou Emmelyn, Mary Frances; all are common names in the South. And with women, both halves of the double names are used on a daily basis. Shortened forms of Mary Elizabeths I’ve known were Lilly Bet, Mae Liz, and the ever popular Mary Beth. To get the right perspective here, you should read the list aloud, slowly. Very slowly. Put a little twang in there. Now you’ve got it.
es of popularity. In one generation, almost all the Sadies have died out. Then there is a rash of little Sadies running around. I think that particular name is beautiful, because it is beautiful, and the Sadie (actually in her generation it was Sadie Belle) in my life was a beautiful person. She is the woman pictured at the top of this post. There was a beautiful Cleo in my life, too. But I’m not hoping to see that name resurrected. The same goes for Ena Belle, Maudie Lee, and Mary Etta. Those don’t roll trippingly off the tongue.
In the South, if a woman doesn’t have a double name already, we make it so by adding Miss or Aunt. Miss Lily, Miss Emily, Aunt Gladys (though no kinship exists) were big in my life. And then I became Miss Sandy.
Miz Sadie Turns 80 was made for my mother-in-law in 2004. The blocks are the traditional Ohio Star blocks, finished at 9”. Sashing is 1” wide (beginning my insistence that narrow sashing separates, but doesn’t overwhelm the blocks). The overall quilt measures 63” square. It is pictured here hanging at the Georgia National Fair in 2004, one of the first quilt competitions I entered. It won a blue ribbon, and Miz Sadie was so pleased that she asked if she could have the ribbon, too. The quilt hung in her home with ribbon attached, as long as she lived there.
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