Good Morning!

Looking back at some older pictures, I came across one from a visit to a museum in South Carolina in 2014. This is a shawl with a Paisley border, probably from Europe, 1800's.

Until a few years ago, I did not even realize that I had acquired a varied assortment of items bearing the Paisley design.  It was one of the "ah ha" moments.  Purses, shirts, fabric...Paisley.  Now that I am aware of the attraction, I am drawn to it even more.

So, how does that happen?  What part of our brain or what influence triggers us to gravitate towards certain patterns, designs, colors?  Experiences?  Generational or ethnic traditions?  These shawls have a history of being made in Scotland.  I do have Scottish ancestry.

The more I interact with textiles, I grow more aware of a kinship, a "oneness" with the fibers.  Threads are not just "string."  Rthymic flow of thread through fabric.  Peaks and valleys as the needle enters and exits, like our lives.  We are the thread winding our way through life's paths.  Connecting with other souls, some, joining with us as the journey continues.

Maybe, Paisley is contained wanderings.  A journey experienced and, then, contained.

I am happy to be contained with the people I have come to know on this journey.  Have a blessed day friends.

Good Morning!

Thought I would share this pic with you taken while DH and I were out on this past Sunday.  My first attempt at blocking out details in a pic before posting.  The blocked items were political posters.  Nuff said...

Isn't this a neat quilt block?

Currently under my needle (literally) is an overdue project for my Mom-in-law.  Will post pics when it is completed.  I want to surprise her.

Today also marks the 15th anniversary of my own Mom's passing.  Hard to believe it is that long already.  My Dad, 30 years this past June.  Where did all that time go?  On occasion, I wonder what those who have gone before us would say about current events, technology, etc.,.  Probably no different in some respects to the changing of ages throughout history.  Each generation has no doubt shook their heads over "crazes."

I miss my Mom and my Dad.  They were good people.  Hard working.  Old fashioned family values and morals.  Mom worked in her earlier years at various jobs, then, after having children, became a full-time homemaker.  Dad was a tool and die maker and all around handyman.

Mom taught me needlework skills for which I will always be grateful.  I did take some courses here and there, but, the foundation began as a little girl watching my Mom sew, crochet and knit.  Fortunately, Mom was still able to crochet almost up to the end of her life (age 85).  She had crocheted many afghans of various sizes.  The surplus was donated to a local charity.

Well, friends, have a good day.  Blessings.