I managed to get the Christmas decorations put away, finally. As I was packing them up, I just had to take a picture of this.
These happy little guys and girls are my Christmas tree stuffed animals. A number of years ago, my sweetie gave me a set of 12 teddy bears for the tree. My son informed me that teddies don't like to hang from their heads, so they sat on the branches, fair game for the cats to toss on the floor.
Over time, my dear ones and friends have added to my collection. This year I received 12 more. The box is full, but it is a happy, cheery box. I expect they are downstairs on the shelf, resting up for next year's frivolity. However, they might need a bigger bin next year.
I went looking for a box of baby bedding that I knew I had packed away (the risk of living in the same house too long, you know it is there, but where?). It turned up under some computer equipment, of course, because where else would you put baby bedding? In the box, I found this treasure.
It is a quilt, made for my oldest, by my mother's dearest friend. I didn't even remember having it. It has been much used, it is lovely and soft. I guess in the years that my own babies were tiny, it just became part of the baby's stuff.
I am looking at it now with new eyes, the eyes of a quilter.
Look at the stitching! Tiny, and even, and entirely done by hand. I can hand quilt, but nothing like this. This was made by the woman who taught me to sew. Knowing her, I think she would be pleased that the quilt has been well used, and loved. This week, I will mend the worn binding. I will add a label to the back, so the next generation will know where it came from. And I will wrap the next generation in it, and tell him about the lovely lady who made it. Thank you, Ann. I am sorry you aren't around to meet my little boy.