You all know I have a soft spot for orphan quilts, right? Perhaps not the prettiest, definitely not the much sought after antiques - though sometimes vintage, those wonky first attempts, those gifts given that were perhaps not to the taste of the giftee, or those that have been well used and loved, yet still ended up orphaned on the racks at the local thrift.
The other day I needed a little pick-me-up and wandered into my local thrift store, my girl needed some new blue jeans and I needed to wander amongst the cluttered shelves for a look-see. There on the rack of dodgy flannelette sheets was just such an orphan quilt. A plaid 9 patch number, "Well hello funny face!" said I. I noted it's hundreds of loose threads, it's random corner of floral patches, and the occasional open seam.
Of course none of these things deterred me, in fact they only served to endear me even more. And so into my basket went the orphan quilt and then it came home with me. It has gone through a good washing and a close inspection. No matter the iffy nature of any quilt one finds at the local thrift, I know all too well how much work goes into each and every one.
So today is mending day, and as I clip loose threads and mend ripped seams, I think about the making of this quirky little quilt. Sometimes I make up a story about the person whose hands toiled to craft it, a story about the quilt's life. The quilts I find may not be the prettiest or the most well made, but I love them all the same.
Oh, and those blue jeans need hemming and maybe a bluebird or two and some butterflies. I'd better get to it!
Happy Monday!
