Last night I watched the movie, “How to Make an American Quilt,” recommended by a woman from my Friday morning group, Fiber Friends. For the past eight years, this group has met for two hours, once a week to create. Sometimes only 3 or 4 women can be there. Last Friday, there were fourteen! They brought their works in fiber – knitting, crocheting, weaving, spinning, yarn hooking, embroidery, quilting. Some of the women are ranch wives who live alone now, raising llamas and sheep, shearing them, cleaning and spinning and dyeing the wool; making mittens and socks and sweaters. Others carry on the crafts they have learned from their mothers and grandmothers, even resurrecting quilt tops started long ago by their grandmothers, partly finished needlework their mothers set aside. Some of us are relearning the work we had little time for when our children were small. All of us have stories. We have shared tragedies, joys, frustrations, travel, new goals, new grandchildren, fears, recipes, photographs. We help unravel mistakes, learn a new craft, start over again. Always the stories and our works connect us.
And that is the story of “How to Make an American Quilt.” And the story behind my poem, “saved for company.”
saved for company
carefully folded in white tissue paper
all the good linens laid with care
in the bottom bureau drawer
saved for company
after grandma died I took out all
the good linens, still pristine white,
embroidery in crisp contrast,
as perfect on the backside as on the front,
days of the week on dish towels
kittens, puppies and bunnies on tea towels
butterflies and flower garlands on pillow cases
all waiting for company
my daughters dried the dishes on Monday, Tuesday,
and Wednesday towels, wrapped baby dolls in
Thursday and Friday, spread Saturday and Sunday
on the grass for picnics, daintily wiped their fingertips
around puppies, kittens and bunnies, napped
among the butterflies and flowers
my grandma, their great-grandma, would smile
dusting the top of grandma’s bureau,
noting many scratches on its walnut surface,
water rings from potted plants,
I shake the dust out into the sunshine,
thin places and holes around the kittens and puppies
holding memories as enduring as grandma’s handiwork
saved for the company of great-granddaughters
++++ © 2 april 2016 pab ++++
carefully folded in white tissue paper
all the good linens laid with care
in the bottom bureau drawer
saved for company
after grandma died I took out all
the good linens, still pristine white,
embroidery in crisp contrast,
as perfect on the backside as on the front,
days of the week on dish towels
kittens, puppies and bunnies on tea towels
butterflies and flower garlands on pillow cases
all waiting for company
my daughters dried the dishes on Monday, Tuesday,
and Wednesday towels, wrapped baby dolls in
Thursday and Friday, spread Saturday and Sunday
on the grass for picnics, daintily wiped their fingertips
around puppies, kittens and bunnies, napped
among the butterflies and flowers
my grandma, their great-grandma, would smile
dusting the top of grandma’s bureau,
noting many scratches on its walnut surface,
water rings from potted plants,
I shake the dust out into the sunshine,
thin places and holes around the kittens and puppies
holding memories as enduring as grandma’s handiwork
saved for the company of great-granddaughters
++++ © 2 april 2016 pab ++++
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