Beginners

All quilters start out as beginners.
No one is born knowing how.
But all who would be good quilters
Should make this solemn vow:
 

I will buy only quality fabrics.
I will keep clean my sewing machine.
I will help my fellow quilters
Be they eighty or seventeen.
 

I will carefully follow directions
That I am given in class
So that what I'm trying to make
Will truly come to pass.
 

I will try never to feel guilty
About my stash or my UFOs:
These are part of the quilting mystique
As every quilter knows.
 

Above all, I will embrace
The joys that quilting imparts
Of friendship, fun and sharing
That cheers and fills our hearts.
 

And when I'm no more a beginner
I won't hold in disdain
Those who know less than I do--
Who knows what heights they may attain?
 

                                          Author: Jacquie Scuitto

The Deadline

T'was the night before the quilt show,
and at the sewing machine;
was the biggest organized clutter,
that you have ever seen.
 

There was fabric on the table.
Fabric on the chair,
Fabric on the floor,
There was fabric everywhere.
 

I couldn't find my rotary cutter,
couldn't find my mat;
I couldn't find my scissors,
And I'm wondering where they're at.
 

It's an hour before the show,
Then I'll get up and leave.
All I need is a few more stitches,
The binding.....and the sleeve.
 

But I'm not about to worry,
Everything is going to be fine.
I'll get it done in time -- But,
I really hate a deadline.
 

               Author: Dallas Reed

Secrets of the Old Quilt

Today, I went up to the attic,
and found a quilt that grandma made.
The binding was worn, the pieces tattered,
and the colors had begun to fade.
 

There were silks and wools and calicos,
in a pattern of the nine patch kind.
They were precision cut and precision sewn,
with an intricate quilting design.
 

She pieced the top and the quilting bee,
helped her quilt the days away.
And they talked about everybody,
Who didn't help quilt that day.
 

Only if that quilt could talk.
Oh, the words that would be conveyed,
of the gossip at the quilting bee,
in the quilt that grandma made.....
 

                                                           Author: Dallas Reed

On Finishing an Old Quilt Top

Dear unknown lady of the past,
I hold your work within my hands;
A top with pattern gay and pure,
A frayed edge reveals loose strands.
 

The design is made of tiny scraps,
Set in a plain sugar sack ground.
Such tiny little stitches made -
A soft blue border around.
 

Where did you sit while piecing this?
Upon a stool by firelight bright?
Or slowly rocking on the porch
As the tired day drew into night?
 

What were your cares while you did work?
What plans and dreams did you spin?
I wonder why your work was stopped.
Why quilting never did begin.
 

My mind is filled with questions.
Were you just a girl or someone's wife?
Was yours a path of leisure?
Or a journey filled with strife?
 

I'll quilt this top, dear lady,
With patterns swirled and flowery,
And bond with one I'll never meet
In a sisterhood of stitchery.

                                                   Author: unknown

Husbands

A quilter's husband died on Friday.
Her heart was torn and wilting
To have the funeral on Monday,
She'd have to miss her quilting.

She asked her sister to fill in,
An act so torn and wilting.
"To him it makes no difference --
So why miss out on quilting?"

                                            Author: Ray Hartsell

My neighbor is washing her windows,
And scrubbing and mopping her floors,
But my house is all topsy and turvey,
And dust is behind all the doors.

My neighbor, she keeps her house spotless,
And she goes all day on a trot:
But no one would know in a fortnight
If she swept today or not.

The task I am at is enticing -
My neighbor is worn to a rag -
I am making a quilt out of pieces
I saved in a pretty chintz bag.

And the quilt, I know my descendants
Will exhibit with credit to me -
"So lovely - my grandmother made it
Long ago in 1933."

But will her grandchildren remember
Her struggles with dirt and decay?
They will not - they will wish she had made them
The quilt I am making today.

                                                                     Author: unknown

The Quiltin' Times are A-Changing

For our Great-Great Grandmothers, in quilting times past
A frugal quilter had to scrimp, make every scrap last
Today wasting fabric is not such a crime
Today what's scarce is a quilter's TIME.

Patterns used to travel with pioneers going west
Now we swap and share instantly on the Internet
Once templates were traced, fabric carefully scissored
Now we slice multiple layers, we're all Olfa wizards.

At one time a two fabric quilt was a sign of status
Now Watercolor quilts have hundreds of prints comin' at us
Quilters used to gather at small local quilting bees
Now we congregate at conferences, national teachers to see.

Like our Great-Great Grandmothers our lives are busy, we're stressed
But with the beauty of our quilts, we feel we are blessed
As with Great-Great Grandmother, our quilting serves many goals
To give warmth, grace our homes, and feed our souls.

               Author: Cindy Thury Smith

Quilting Frustrations

First I lost my thimble and stuck the needle into my thumb
Then I figured the yardages wrong, so I'm short, how dumb
And I can't understand this piecing diagram ‘cuz my brain's gone numb
Sometimes quilting just doesn't pay.

Now the tension's goofed up on my sewing machine
The four yards I bought aren't the right shade of green
And how am I to get Grandmother's unfinished quilt top clean
Sometimes quilting just doesn't pay.

I've pressed under bias until my fingers are all burnt
Can't quite remember that finishing tip I thought I'd learnt
Tried to do an edge in scallops, but they weren't
Sometimes quilting just doesn't pay.

I've sewed on this quilt for what seems like a hundred weeks
Bringing my quilting skills to a new sewing peak
And, surprisingly, getting pretty close to the design I seek
Well, maybe quilting's not so bad.

Hey, finally I've got it on the quilting frame
And I bend over and stitch; my back will never be the same
In the corner I'll label it with the date and my name
Well, maybe quilting's not so bad.

Now it's proudly displayed in all its pomp and glory
Conveniently forgotten is how its construction was slightly hoary
Currently I'm telling the "masterpiece of needleart" story
Yeah, I guess quilting's not so bad.

                                                           Author: Cindy Thury Smith

I started out with a simple block design–
And thought I'd add just one or two more lines–
To come up with a quilt that'd be all mine.

Then I started playing with complex borders and sashing–
And through my mind new ideas kept flashing–
Until now my hopes have gone a-dashing!

I've created an impossible pattern, a monster–
Anyone who'd try it would be a fanatical quilter–
Who'd probably end up cussing out the designer!

Since I created it I'd better give it a try–
As I ripped out stitches I kept asking myself why–
If I get it done I'll take this one with me when I die!

Now it's finally done and lies displayed on our bed–
Hundreds of hours, yards of fabric, and miles of thread–
One of those, "it'll never work" ideas that just popped into my head.

                                        Author: unknown

100 Ways to Hide Your Stash

He doesn't' have to know everything
A few secrets keep a marriage fresh as spring
I'll have it in, and out of sight in a flash
There are 100 ways to hide your stash.
 

Fill up the cupboard, hide the evidence
Pile it in the pantry spare no expense
Keep it with the kids' clothes, lay it with the wine
Keep it all together where the sun don't shine!
 

Put it in a Safeway bag, bring it in with the groceries
Call it "Christmas presents - and don't you peek!"
You're "keeping it for a friend" who's gone to Calgary
She'll be back soon - no there's none for me!
 

Don't tell him what you owe the store
He might start looking in the dryer or the drawer
It's an affliction breeding secrecy
These quilty pleasures that won't let me be
 

Pack it in the wardrobe, under the chair
Stack it with the linen, with the silverware
Cram it in the cellar, under the stair
With the winter clothes, with the underwear.
 

A woman stored hers in the ceiling overhead
For years it stayed there, overtop the bed
Her husband never ever heard a sound
Until the day it brought the ceiling down
 

He's got golfing and his auto parts
You've got fabric
He's got cigarettes and butter tarts
You've got fabric!
 

Pad it in a pillow, buy a bass violin
Cram it in a corner, tuck it in a tin
Turn off your freezer, fill up your bin
Unplug the oven, you can fit it all in
 

Buy a few quarters, while you're at the store
Get a little extra - more more more
Slip it in the mattress, hide it under the floor
No more room in here: buy the house next door!
 

                                                      Author: Cathy Miller