In 1996, the boy was in 1st grade.
We sent him to a private Christian school and I worked as the lunchroom lady to pay for his tuition.
That was also the year that we moved way. out. in. the. country.
A friend told me that I lived so far out that we had to pipe in sunshine.
Being so far out, I really began to feel the isolation.
1996 was also the year that Patty, another mom from the school, invited a bunch of us school mom’s over to her house for a cookie exchange.
I jumped at the chance because 1. cookies! who passes up cookies??? and 2. adult women with whom I could converse!!!
While we were there, she showed us her quilts and suggested that we all meet at her place once a week, and she would teach us how to quilt.
More jumping at chance.
Patty was my sanity savior for the next 7 years.
In those 7 years I cranked out almost 25 quilts.
Quilts for the chips, Superman, 2 for the Sister, one for each of the parents, a couple baby ones, some for Missionary friends, wedding gifts, one for me that I haven’t finished yet, and then I started a flannel one.
Life got all discombobulated at the end of that 7 years and we moved into town.
Into a lovely Victorian house that is not conducive to space.
I heart the Georgian/Victorian era, but seriously! what were they thinking when it came to drawing up blueprints???
Quilting fell by the wayside, and I picked up other creative pursuits.
But now I have a sewing room again, and the quilt machine has begun to crank once again.
And I have finally finished that flannel quilt top I began almost 8 years ago.
Today I plan on putting it all together.
I don’t know where Patty is today, but thank you my dear friend.
Thank you for being there for me, for teaching me how to make soap, can chicken, make sweet pickle relish out of way to many zucchini, for teaching me that you shouldn’t put white and cream together in a quilt, and for being my friend.