Unearthed Treasures and Unearthed . . . Other Stuff

I wrote a blog post, several years, about my parents’ cedar chest. They bought it when they were very first married. It was a dark piece of furniture, in the style of the day, I think. Mother painted and “antiqued” it, when that was the style. And, years later, I stripped it, and discovered the beautiful wood that had been hidden for so many years.

A month ago, we had lots of company. For a week, there were anywhere from three to seven extra people in the house. A couple of guys (and a little boy) agreed to sleep on nice, camping, blow-up mattresses. Then, there were beds to accommodate the four extra women.

I gathered all the extra sheets, pillowcases, towels and washcloths from the linen closet, to take care of all the guests. I think it worked. No one complained. I also opened up the cedar chest and pulled out blankets and quilts, which was something of a nostalgia journey. A few days after all the guests had left, and all the extra linens were being put away, David asked, “How many quilts do we have.” I said I wasn’t completely sure. So we opened the cedar chest back up and pulled out the quilts and blankets for an inventory.

One of the quilts, homemade for us by a relative, was showing some significant wear.

I told David that this quilt cannot easily be repaired. The most sensible thing would be to completely remove the damaged rows (which go all around the circumference of the quilt), which could be removed and a new binding put on, but that would be a big project. I could donate the quilt to a helping agency, and let them decide if it was worth their time to do something like that. And he said, yes, and that they could fix it for us. And I said, no, if they fix it, it will be to sell it in their own agency. Or, they could create a smaller quilt that they would then put out for sale for their agency.

And he thought there might be a seamstress, somewhere, who could repair it. And I said that the amount of time and effort to:

1)remove all the tiny stitches from around each and every damaged square, and then

2) to replace all those damaged squares with new squares, also with small, hand sewn stitches, would undoubtedly cost ‘way more money than we would be willing to pay.

We said a sad good-bye to that quilt.

When JoAnne was getting married, she got some quilts from her in-laws. And, Mother, I guess, feeling bad for (quiltless) me, handed over some quilts that she had. I don’t know the story of most of them.

I do know about this quilt. David’s great-grandmother, Sarah Bible, made quilts. MANY quilts. David’s mother ended up with lots of them. Quilts on every bed. Quilts on quilt stands in many rooms. Quilts folded and stacked up on shelves.

At one point, she walked me around the house and asked me which quilt I wanted. And I chose one. And, as the mother of six children and oodles of grandchildren, she was quite organized. At one point, as she was getting older, she handed over this quilt to me. I didn’t actually recall which quilt I chose, but I’m pretty sure that this is the one, not because I remember it so well, but because I’m sure that she wrote it down in a notebook, so she’d remember.

And my grandfather’s razors, from his barber shop in downtown Hillsboro, Texas.