Sweet Tea and Lemonade

That's the name of a Charlotte Angotti kit I picked up a few years ago. I bought it intending to make it into a full size bed quilt for my bed as the background almost matched the color of my walls. It did not turn out that way as there are a couple of home truths I forgot in my ambitous planning. For instance, if you buy a twin size quilt kit, first offerd many years ago, you will be unable to find enough matching current fabrics to stretch the twin to a queen size quilt. Another truth is that you should really, really like the blocks you will be making to do a queen size quilt. I could not find enough curent fabrics to stretch it to queen size and, after only six blocks, I hated making the blocks.

It is now hanging on my bedroom wall where every day it reminds me of these home truths. Here is how it came out:

Why only the top half? Well, there is a huge wrinkle on the top of the quilt from my quilting. The weird thing is that most wrinkles from quilting come on the back of the quilt. Trust me to find a new way to wreck an otherwise acceptable quilt. Here is the bottom half:

See that wrinkle? It makes the whole quilt hang a little crookedly but, be assured, that the rod is hanging straight as Paul did it. Here is the whole picture I see every day:

One thing I do notice now that it is done is that lower left hand basket does not stand out from the back ground as I thought it would.

Lessons learned:

• current fabrics do not match older fabrics
• you must like making the blocks before making tons of them
• you can wrinkle the top of a quilt when quilting
• value really does count when using pastels

I hope your weekend is going well. Personally I am working on a project that may never make it into this blog and trying to complete all the finishing touches for a sweater I started last fall but completed knitting just this morning. Now that it is regularly in the nineties here my attempts at gardening have been curtailed until I get used to the new norm. Have a great weekend!

On the Road

Later today or tomorrow morning, depending on the weather, I will begin my trek to New Port Richey, Florida, to clear out my father's apartment there. This trip is very bitter sweet for me as it marks the end of era for my family. For about 30 years my father, and my mother, (before she died), spent half of the year in Florida and half in Canada. From the reports I am getting from Canada, my father will not be visiting Florida again as his physical condition has not materially improved, and his mental condition continues to deteriorate, since his stroke back in August.

Many of our family heirlooms are in Florida and it will be my job, and my brothers when they get there, to weed out what needs to be kept and what needs to be tossed/donated/given away.

There are a couple of weird little chairs that have seats upholstered with needlepoint, the backgrounds worked by my grandmother. And the silver tea set that I only remember being used once but is quite lovely. Then there are the soup tureens and crystal that my father collected that do not fit into the lifestyles of this generation. And there are the shoe boxes full of undocumented photographs and the bookcases full of books that will need to sorted. What about the tea cup collection, the battered 78's or the evening gowns my mother wore on the cruises they took together? All will need to be evaluated and disposed of in some manner.

Although I have known for a few years that I would need to do this, I hate it. I feel like I am wiping out part of my father's life and, at the same time, closing out a chapter of my own. To add insult to injury, I will need to travel to Canada after I return to Texas to officially be told the dismal prognosis for his future health and, probably, begin the process to have him transferred to a long term care facility. I know it has to be done but I hate it, hate it, hate it.