Posted in Poetry, Quilting

handmade

Ohio Buckeye 4/2020 (my latest completed quilt, gifted)

there are no
cohesive thoughts left
to talk about, except

scrap fabric
sewn together
makes for a great quilt, so

we both indulge
the textured landscape
lips sewn tight

********************

The last quilt (see below) I completed before the Ohio Buckeye quilt (above) was for the Children’s Circle Preschool I worked at from 2004-2006. I miss the kiddos. They brought me such joy.

Reading Rug 2004 (the trees crinkle, like rustling leaves, when touched)

I hope to finish a few more quilts in my lifetime. They bring me pleasure to make and give away. To commemorate my Astralorp chicks arriving on June 1, I started a Chicken Collage quilt. The first block is done.

Chicken Collage block one
(finished date tbd)
Posted in Art, Music Video, Musings, Poetry, quotes, Random

Fabric of Life

Brambleton Threads has a really cool project happening at another blog that i honestly envy… i have not been able to pick up fabric and thread for Oh! So long… (somewhere in this blogging mess I have some of my quilt pieces posted.)

Hydrogen/Oxygen

Click on the above link to see helium. I love it!! Go! Do it! Show her some love… 💙

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< em>Enchanted Beach with Three Fluid Graces Dali Museum St Petersburg FL

Clearwater Beach today. The fog has lifted as I am listening to Tori Amos Climb and Twilight Sad Don’t Look at Me. And thank you to RayNotBradbury!! Go visit her blog too!

My plans are to visit Frenchy’s Rockaway Grill and Frenchy’s Salt Water Cafe. Tropical drinks at Clearwater Beach… a bittersweet day in Indian Rocks Beach.

I dont do drugs. I am drugs. Dali

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Posted in Art, Memoir, Poetry

spring 

Spring calf, March 2011*

New life
a gift -cherish
the Spring’s laugh,
who awakens the dead
long past.

*Second quilt block “Momma and baby Scottish Highland: Silver and Red”. The baby was born quite a cheerful lad.

My Aunt Phyllis, the only girl of seven siblings, bought my grandparents farm. She renovated the house and rented the pastures to local farmers. The milkman did not visit anymore, to collect the milk and cream. The corn cribs lay bare and the chicken coop long vanished. Then her son bought land nearby and a herd of cattle. A Scottish Highland calf was born on a wintry Spring morning, that was not so cold for long.

Posted in Art, Memoir, Poetry

generations

 

Vivian Maxwell’s Jersey Barn, 1935-1985*

What of this world –to tell
grandchildren or another
child playing in the street
“This is the generation…”
Changes happen –so fast
the spin of the world
passes past the heart
grieves humanity to know
nothing changes at all.

*The first of my folk art quilt blocks to commemorate my grandparents. My paternal grandfather, Vivian Maxwell, born December 18, 1912, Folk County, IA married my grandmother, Pauline Gail Matthes, born September 27, 1912, Richland County, WI, on June 16, 1932. They had seven children, my dad the third son.

My grandparents farmed for 50 years in the beautiful glacial hills of Vernon County WI. They had draft horses until 1966, the year he changed over to a John Deere tractor. I never knew the horses, only seeing pictures and hearing stories. In this quilt block the barn is an exact replica which stands today. The collie dog passed away when I was 3 years old.

The  quilt is an honor to craft for my grandmother who passed away July 2012, a few short months of turning 100. I started the quilt during a bout of deep depression and anxiety, hence the reason it took 4 years to complete this first block. I am close to finishing a second and third.

The American family farm is quickly becoming a relic. The honey bee faces the same fate.