Continuing the love story or how English paper piecing took over my life Part two

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Buttercup never got far from a quilt, let me tell you....

I'm leaving home today for a week with my daughter and the grandgirls. My son-in-law will be away on business, time for this abuela to lend a hand as well as spend Easter with family. I'll miss my hubby most certainly, but I'm grateful to spend time with other beloveds.

I wasn't sure when I'd write this post, but last night as I was packing, the photo above popped up on the screensaver. A hound peeks out from the bottom of what is my first EPP'ed quilt, Buttercup was her name. Before the grandkids, we had a grandbasset, or a basset-beagle. Buttercup loved my quilts as much as a human, and this post is partially dedicated to her.

So hand-stitching.... Seems it figures pretty heavily in my quilting life. In 2018, I read a few blogs, some of which are now merely markers to my quilt beginnings. I grew especially fond of Jodi Godfrey, an Australian artist who had found her joy in using paper pieces, which she then turned into her own business. I wasn't sure if basting, then sewing shapes was for me, so I initially opted for a pack of 1.5" hexagons purchased at Joann; Dritz made these papers, which were easy to thread-baste for how stiff were the hexies. At the same time my mom wasn't well, so I spent a week helping to care for her, my sisters and I, our brother too, all wholly unaware of exactly how ill she was.

Mom had cancer, dying ten days after it was diagnosed.

What do I recall of those few weeks? Watching a newborn calf being attended by its mother, just outside my parents' front window. The Kentucky Derby, I think, or some other famous horse race on TV. Giving Mom a pedicure, stories shared with two women related to me, laughter and tears alongside. And using Mom's copious thread stash to baste hexies.... Those are odd memories, and more resound, but needless to say I had just finished writing The Hawk, and of course I wonder had I not finished before Mom passed, when might I have closed the chapter on that behemoth.

Jodi's Cherish quilt made for my youngest as a wedding present, November 2019.

Ah, my mom.... Not biologically but in every other manner. She sewed too, but not quilts. Garments were her specialty, so it's fitting my crafty nature reflects something she loved.

After Mom died, my writing world seemed irrelevant. I closed up my WordPress blog and made quilts for her sisters, while stitching by hand hexie flowers. I ended up seeking a therapist, as one does when a whole lotta emotional turmoil flips a person's world inside out; losing both parents in three years does not necessarily a matriarch make. And I kept sewing hexies together, ordering some of Jodi's papers, but my goodness they were thin compared to Dritz, and I wasn't sure if I could accurately baste fabric onto them. (Ends up I LOVE Jodi's papers, along with Paper Pieces out of Kentucky, their paper weight a smidge heavier than Jodi's, but quite serviceable.) All those hexie flowers turned into a quilt for my oldest granddaughter, pictured at the top of this post, and before I could realize it, paper piecing became as intrinsic as breathing.

Jodi's Seedlings quilt for my eldest, incorporating EPP and machine piecing. One of my all times faves!

As I packed yesterday, making sure the hexie tote was amply supplied was just as vital as my suitcase, lol. I spent last night basting hexies in case the grandgirls wanted to stitch some flowers. The Warriors beat the Charlotte Hornets, then the SF Giants overpowered the San Diego Padres (although Houston won as did Dallas, sigh....). Having enough clothes ranks just ahead of plentiful sewing accoutrements, and yes, I have all I need to poke at The Hawk too. My granddaughters will be in school next week, so I can accomplish a little of my own work, funny how The Hawk never seems wholly completed. But paper piecing merely flits from one project to the next, extremely versatile for traveling, and for giving me immense joy. Cross-stitching when I was younger, courtesy of my mom, has evolved into a marvelous manner to create lasting cozies, every simple pass of the needle through thread like a prayer offered up for whoever and whatever situation calls for intercessions. Maybe it's apt to write about this on Easter Saturday, knowing all I do is not of my own making, simply conjured through Love.

Cornflower, again designed by Jodi Godfrey. Currently it's heaped on the sofa, awaiting my hand-quilting attention.

Inheriting Mom's sewing stash, I use her thread for basting paper pieces. How fitting that despite her corporeal absence, she is always with me, and passed along in every hand-made piece that emerges. Crafting is a gift, be it in words or quilts, and I am ever so grateful for the mind, heart, and hands to share these treasures, and hopefully pass along the maker-spirit to the next generation.

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