“if we could stop the moon. and june. stay, june, stay. ~christina g. rossetti”
that poem has been going through my head all month long. but i don’t really care to stop june. or the moon for that matter. i truly believe that each month is beautiful in its’ own special way. designed by none other than a loving God who is always so generous in HIS gifts.
the weather in our neck of the woods was beautiful for a last day day of june. we spent a good part of it outside in the morning and the late afternoon and evening. i was really inspired by jess to finish my own alphabet quilt, which i started two summers ago. i cannot believe how time flies. i wish i didn’t drop the ball so much with projects. especially sewing ones. today i found a quilt top with a giant star in the middle that i began when the children were much smaller and i had very little time to do anything. but not much has really changed as far as that goes.
i think it funny that so often we sew for sport, when families used to depend on mother’s sewing for warm blankets and the clothes on their backs. i guess i am so old fashioned for thinking myself a terrible mother if i don’t at least contribute something from my own hands to my childrens’ wardrobes. to their lives. the food they eat. the napkins they wipe their mouths with. or the towels they dry their hands with. little handsewn touches. my love in every stitch. sometimes they notice. other times they don’t. but that is not the point. i grew up this way. my mother’s love surrounding me in our home. our bedrooms. pillows. tablecloths. embroidered samplers. i remember that the last quilt she made me, i took with me to the hospital when my first son was born. somewhere there is even a tiny bit of blood, from labor? i am not quite sure, perhaps from all the after bleeding. but either way, that was my blankie. in many ways i was still her baby. and so i don’t ever discount the power of those handmade things.
another thing i found today was a light cotton nursing blankie that she made with fourth of july fabric when my littlest son was born. he had such a sweaty head, but modesty always prompted me to cover him when i nursed in public, so she made me a stack of such coverlets.
one day my daughter found a box of fabric scraps in my old room and she realized that they were from every single thing that my mother has ever made for her. she sat there and cried, saying that she couldn’t believe that someone loved her this much, to do such a thing for her. they are for the “someday quilt”, which we will work on together. it may or may not get finished. maybe someday she’ll find it in a box. with all of the other unfinished things which will probably be my legacy.
but i am hoping it won’t matter. because i am hoping that she will remember, not just this particular day in june, when the grass tickled our feet so. or our feeble attempts at friendship bracelets. i am hoping that she, and they (those boys) will always remember that i was and am, so tickled just to be their mother.
this post went in an entirely different direction than i originally intended. please forgive me. by the time you read this, we will be saying hello to july. which really tickles me too. we have so much planned already. i get a little nervous just thinking about it. so, enough for one night.
ps. and yes, that is really what my embroidery thread looks like. please don’t judge me. it works quite well. i just search “the ball” for my desired color. no neat little box with cardboard organizers to mess with. i think those things are really overrated.