Subscribe Now!

QuiltersVillage
McCall's Quilting
Quick Quilts
Quilters Newsletter
  About QN
  Advertise
  Articles & Patterns
  Back Issues
  Calendar
  Contact QN
  Copyright for Quilters
  Corrections
  Extra Credit
  In This Issue
  QN Teachers List
  newsletters
  CK Media Gallery
  QN Product Showcase
  QN Indexes
  RJR Bonus Patterns
  Showtime 2007
  Special Publications
  Web Extras
  Writer's Guidelines
  Winner's Listing
Quiltmaker

  Quilting Offers
   Crazy Quilts
Star Quilts
Log Cabin Quilts
Applique Quilts
Electric Quilt
 
 



Loose Threads

























I discovered a ceramic pitcher.







I fell instantly in love with it.








I was raised to be thrifty.







I've always thought if something is beautiful...











it can only be a blessing.

Ode to a Grecian Urn

By Helen Kelley

Up the road a piece is one of those places that sells the leftovers from stores that have gone out of business. It is a marvelous place to find hidden wonders at astonishing bargain prices. Occasionally, I like to browse there on treasure-hunting expeditions. On my last foray, I discovered a ceramic pitcher. It was white, and embossed on the sides were the lovely, rounded clusters of grapes touched with an imitation patina of age. It had the grace and beauty of a Grecian classic, and I fell instantly in love with it.

I do not need a new pitcher. I have shelves of crockery in my basement that I have collected for more than 50 years. Excess, Waste, and Needless Spending are cardinal sins to me since I was a "child of the thirties" and raised to be thrifty, but I had fallen in love with that pitcher.

So I made excuses to myself as to why I must have it. The pitcher was pleasantly short and squat, I told myself, and it would fit neatly in the limited space beneath the cooling unit in my refrigerator. It was the perfect size for iced tea. Besides, it was very cheap, and it would be absurd to pass up such a bargain. I bought it, and I felt extravagant and sinful.

This morning, as I was putting away the clean, dry dishes from the dish drainer, I cradled the pitcher in my hands. It felt smooth and flawless and graceful. It was beautiful, and it gave me deep-down pleasure.

I've always thought that if something is beautiful, it can only be a blessing. I feel that way about my quilts. Once when a woman asked me, "What do you do with all those quilts?" I answered her directly, and I made no excuses. I said, "I love them. I touch them. I count them. I look at them and I study the fabrics, and sometimes I sleep under them. " Quilts give me pleasure.

We have a quilt on our bed, and at night, I fold the quilt back carefully to protect it because I know the hours of labor and the cost of fabric and the creativity that went into its making. It is a treasure. I try hard not to rumple it or wear it out, but I have accepted the fact that this is a sleeping-under quilt. Everything has a purpose, and the purpose of this quilt is to keep me warm and make me happy.

I made a wedding quilt for us when Bill and I were married. It has long since worn out. Bill sat on the edge of it every night to take off his shoes and socks, and gradually the edges wore thin and then shredded. I mourned the tatters that it became. Those tatters are not a shame or a disaster, though, but a testament to the moments I loved making it, looking at it, feeling it, and sleeping snugly beneath it. If it had been folded away pristinely, it would probably still be a healthy piece of needlework, but it would not have been a cherished part of my life all these years.

Some homes are filled with stunning art and tasteful touches. The rooms are decorated in coordinated colors and have matching furniture. Small, enchanting items are scattered about on table tops and tucked into corners. There are no worn threads or ravelly edges visible.

My own home is rather frayed. The furniture is dated. There are small coffee spots here and there on the carpet. But my bed has a quilt on it that I love. This quilt was made with loving hands with colors that stir my soul. I pull it up beneath my chin at night, and I snuggle under it. I know that some day, it will begin to show signs of wear; the simple laws of time and use tell me this. I don't mind, though, because to me it is beautiful, and I made it to be used and loved.

Having a beloved quilt, or for that matter, a Grecian pitcher, is to have a thing of beauty, and even when it is worn and old, it will be a joy forever.

©HK 2004

Helen Kelley is a quiltmaker, lecturer, author, and teacher from Minneapolis, Minnesota. You can visit Helen on the Internet at her website www.helenkelley-patchworks.com or email Helen at this address: helen@helenkelley-patchworks.com.

Helen's book Every Quilt Tells a Story: A Quilter's Stash of Wit and Wisdom is a collection of two decades of Loose Threads. Now in its second printing, the book is available at quilt shops, bookstores, or from us at https://secure.tpli.com/VillageQuiltShoppe/QV_Products.asp. Helen will be signing copies of her book at our Primedia booth at the International Quilt Festival, October 30 through November 2, 2003, in Houston, Texas.

View our archive of Loose Threads columns.