I've done so many entries about quilts this year that Grumpa Max went through his computer files to send me pictures of Grandma Ollie's quilts to share.
These are just a few of the quilts that Grandmary inherited. Some are still with the parental units, in storage (you don't need quilts on beds in the desert),while some have been distributed to other extended family members. None of these pictures truly do them justice. You can see the piece work, but the details that show up once you get up close are incredible. Though they may look plain from a distance, it is the patterns that are in the solid blocks of color that really show off what a technician she was.
My mother did her share of quilting when I was younger. I have fond memories of playing "fort" under the quilting frame. Once we moved East, into a smaller house, and a different cultural situation, the types and size of the quilts, and the kind of quilting she does is vastly different. What with all our youth activities, school, and piano, I just didn't have time to cultivate any quilting techniques. That being said, I do have poignant memories of a multi-generational, extended family quilting bee in which I contributed my clumsy stitches to one of Grandma's quilts -- one finished off by sisters, aunts, cousins, nieces, and me, all while we were paying vigil, waiting to see if Ollie would survive after that major car accident. Now days, however, my sewing skills are ... just not there.
My medium, somehow, seems to be yarn. I just interpret patterns, blocks, and color schemes differently. (Can you tell? I like blue.)