Anyway, I remember my grandmother's dark curly hair. How in the morning she would have her record player on; you would hear Charlie pride. But I also remember sitting in her room with her while she sewed. I was trying to catch the dog, he bit me. I never had the opportunity to learn quilting from her. But I felt her love at night as I slept under a blanket made for me. It was made out of corduroy and Sesame Street fabric. One one block I drew a smiley face, and my name with a marker. I got in serious trouble for that. But now that's what I think was special about it. It's been long lost. I really wish that I had known to value it more. Hindsight is always a kick in the rump!
My grandmother may have started this obsession, but I am following along. So for a while I will share the quilts and stories that I already have in the house.
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