The Quilt

My grandma was born in 1925.

She told me once that she was upset when WWII began because the men were allowed to join the army at 18, yet women could not until 20.  In 1945, after turning 20, my grandma promptly entered the army.

She earned a degree after the war ended, went to Mexico with a friend, and drove all the way from New York to California.  At the Grand Canyon, she took the mule ride down the side of the canyon to the riverbed.

Along with some portraits she painted (she always was something of an artist) and random other good finds like a pink Depression-ware tea set, we found this quilt at her house.  Either she or my great-grandma, Gam, must have made this quilt at some time.

Time has certainly made a mark on the old blanket.  All the pentagons were old shirts or skirts, and it has been repaired at least one before.

Like my seam?  Hand-sewn, of course.  The other person who took it upon herself to repair the quilt before me used a sewing machine and didn't care that the other side would have pentagon outlines in random spots.  But I want to hand-sew it back together.  The picture two above has the flower that I am currently fixing.

Over all, I like the quilt, faded and worn.  I have one from the other side of my family that I use even though it is slowly rotting away, and it is the comfiest blanket I own.  Two years ago I made a my own quilt, and it seems so stiff and tame.  The best quilt is most certainly an old one!

It's going to take a while...but it will be worth it!