My Aunt gave me a stack of “vintage” quilting magazines, most are dated in the eighties and early nineties. I have read and made transfers of the patterns. Making note of the tips and tricks that were popular then. Occasionally, I run across something that speaks to my quilting journey. This particular letter hits quite close to home because as I type this and wake tomorrow to work on yet another project, there is a stack of donated blocks that my Grandmother brought home from the donation center where she volunteers. They are clearly from some other quilter’s old project put aside. The publication is now out of print and the publisher liquidated, but the letter lives on.
Country Quilts Winter 1995 “A Letter To An Unknown Quilter,” by Patricia Rueth
…..Dear Kindred Spirit,
I have your quilt blocks…your work in progress. I wanted you to know that I got them two years ago. Until today, I’ve been content just to own them. I’ve gotten them out of their draw often to play with them. I’ve tried a great many different ways to arrange them. I’ve often wondered how you planned to put them together.
I decided months ago that it would be best to have three more of the blocks. A quilt with none blocks by five blocks just didn’t look right. Eight blocks by six blocks looked better. Each of your blocks were sewn to pages from old farm magazines. The three new ones I cut will be on used computer paper. The times have changed.
I’ve haunted fabric stores looking for the right antique-looking prints that will blend in and not stick out like a sore thumb. You would most likely get a good laugh about that. I’ve also learned a great deal about you from the blocks.
You were probably along in years when you made them… your fine stitches are rather long and the knots are rather large. You started this project in the early 1940’s… I know this because the magazine pages are dated 1941-42. I wasn’t even born yet when you made the quilt blocks.
My guess is that you were a farm wife in the mid-west. You and your husband enjoyed reading the Progressive Farmer. The pages tell a great deal about farming in Tennessee and Kentucky. It is obvious that you lived through the Great Depression – “Waste Not, Want Not.” I can see that all through your quilt. I see old feed sacks where the stitches have been removed. You are a wife. In the middle of a block I see your husband’s tie. You are a mother. There is a kiddie print with little girls and wagons full of flowers. You had a daughter. Many of the pieces have been cut from worn garments. I imagine I see aprons, robes, baby clothes, dresses and the like.
A friend must have shared with you many scraps of that red material. It is used frequently throughout the blocks. It has never been used before. When a piece wasn’t long enough to go across the diagonal of the 10 inch square, you pieced it together on your sewing machine. I’ll bet it was a treadle machine like the one that decorates my hallway.
I worked hard today trying to get those three extra blocks ready. They would not fit in no matter how I made them. At last, I decided they would all have to have some of your fabric to make it work. That meant I had to undo three of your blocks and add my material to your work and add your work to my blocks.
Now it is our work. I hope you don’t mind. I started out doing all my work by hand. I didn’t want to mar the integrity of your work. When I found your machine stitches on a couple of the patches, I switched to the sewing machine. Somehow I think you would approve.
When I began this, I thought I’d just rip off the paper and put the blocks together. I find that I can’t do that. Those pages have been on the blocks for fifty years. They are a part of this quilt’s history. I’m carefully peeling them off. As I work, I am learning a great deal about history. You were just using scrap paper as a foundation to keep the blocks square and the right size. In doing so, you shared your times with me. The price of a new Studebaker Champion car starts at $690. Patterns for all sorts of clothing are 10-cents each. Movies worth seeing include Walt Disney’s Fantasia. There is an ad for Poll Parrot shoes. Those 45 pages are treasures that will stay with the quilt.
I know the blocks were stored for awhile. I picture them in a box in your attic. One block is badly sun-bleached. It must have been on top. No matter, I’ve put it in a corner. I couldn’t leave it out.
I often wondered why you never got around to putting it together. Perhaps you became ill and couldn’t finish it. Or maybe it was one of your works in progress that was put aside until something else got finished. I’m very self conscious about my work. I’m not sure I want anyone to view my work ass critically as I’m viewing yours. I did have five quilts in varying stages of progress, but before I started work on this, I made myself finish all but one. I hear you speak to my of procrastination.
I’m putting our quilt together by machine, but with great care. I want us both to be able to take a lot of pride in this. I plan on quilting it by hand. I usually quilt by machine. I am not very good at hand quilting. My mom keeps telling me that I won’t learn any younger. I wanted to let you know that you’ve inspired me to try. I’m anxious to see it in y antique quilting frame. I look forward to the time my mom and I will spend together as it becomes a real quilt at long last.
I still have a long way to go, but they are no longer just quilt blocks. Our quilt is beginning to take shape. Through this quilt I feel I’ve gotten to know you. I think we are a lot alike. We are kindred spirits and I’m glad we found each other….
Thank you, as always for spending some time with This Lil Pig Studios!
This Lil Pig Studios 