I had a look back to my last quilt block and letter to you. It was May. I’ve been so consumed with dressmaking and the summer, that patchwork and quilting have been put to the side. In fact, I’m not entirely sure where the quilt blocks are in my sewing room. These photos are from April, when I finished the block.
This block is called Noon and Light. In retrospect, I think the dark green was not the best choice. Too dark and defining. The name suggests a lighter combination. Not that the name matters. Once the block is among the others, it will look right.
I’ll find the rest of the blocks. It is so near to finishing. Now the cooler weather is back, it feels right to pick up our Dear Daughter quilt again. One block and one letter at a time. Here I go.
The letter – about sounding like your mother
I heard myself today. I blame you. Partly. You made me use my Mother’s voice. I could hear it. I could hear my mother. I also knew how you felt, because I’ve been in your shoes. On the receiving end of the voice. Continue reading
I weaved my way though the towering sunflower stalks, growing in the kitchen garden. Aiming for a flower, in the middle of the patch, to photograph. The others around it were beginning to fade. Petals twisting. Edges drying. This one sunflower bloomed later and was still looking good. Head not hanging down, as if inspecting its feet, like its fading companions. It’s nearing judgement day. Do I bring the sunflower seed heads in, to store for the birds over winter? Soon, I think.
I stepped carefully over spaghetti squashes, growing between the stalks. Mindful of their trailing stems. Not wishing to cut off their last gasps of nourishment. Easier now that the leaves have died back. A sign that the time has come round again to harvest the squashes.
I grab a few apples from a nearby tree to replenish the fruit bowl. A daily routine, now the hornets have gone, or maybe diverted elsewhere. Using my jumper as an improvised apron to hold the red, glistening apples. Continue reading