Life layers

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My patches amid what's left of an EPP masterpiece.

All that dwells under the re-quilting....

Now back in my stitchy-novelistic realm, I spent late yesterday afternoon and early evening adding another round to the Kawandi-style lap quilt. It's hard, in one way, re-covering this particular cozy because its original design is a gorgeous EPP diamond star pattern. However it's been in disrepair for a long time, sporting patches adding by yours truly, and in desperate need of an overhaul. Kawandi is the perfect vehicle to upcycle it; even if the beautiful English paper piecing is obscured, the quilt itself remains a viable (if not weighty) blanket for many years to come.

Decisions about what patches to save, as well as if I choose to salvage any of the EPP, make for slow work in adding new inner rounds. I did half of the current round, then required a break to gather the mental acuity to move forward. Sounds like an apt metaphor for life in general, lol, which is why this post exists at all. Metaphors have their place in this world, layering new atop withered, adding beauty to decay. Not stripping off that which pains, but gently placing pretty fabrics accordingly, with the knowledge that the original marvel could only last so long before fraying into oblivion. That is sewist's language for it, patches not able to withstand further laundering. Something about this thrift store gem that my sister-in-law discovered then gave to me tugs at my heart, in part for all the painstaking effort put into the EPP, as well as a history unknown but deeply embedded within the cotton fibres. I don't know jack about the woman who made it, inking her name into the back, but Dorothy, wherever you were and now are, I so appreciate all the fabric cut, papers basted, shapes sewn into such a magnificent whole. And I hope if you're floating around beyond the veil, you don't want to rip my throat out as I stitch modern prints over all your hard work.

Where I stopped last night, for better or worse LOL!

The layers I am adding represent my current fave cottons stitched in an ancient method hearkening to hundred of years in the past. These layers cover other favourite fabrics I used on it, so even my efforts are being set aside for this new endeavor. I'd love to have time to write something new, but chickens are currently muscling their feathered ways into the book life. Summer brings treasured moments with grandkids, further pushing away endearing pastimes. Breathing deeply, I allow all these varied enterprises their allotted spaces, turning me into the person I am evolving into with every passing second. Not that writing or sewing will disappear, nor will my family fade into the mist. Only that there is time for all things, necessary layers that emerge as a surprise or are eagerly anticipated with such longing I ponder how did I exist prior? I don't need to ask Future Me or Past Me, I merely inhale the joy and wonder, slapping another five-inch square or equivalent scrap onto a quilt I hope will long outlive me. Did Dorothy wish for the same? If she did, she's getting that desire met in a manner she never dreamed.

Another layer of life for another snippet of August. Wishing you peace and joy on this ninth day of the eighth month of the year!

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