Goodbye Butterflies!

My grandmother gave me this butterfly quilt years and years ago…. probably 25 or 26 years past.  It was filled with that old fashioned batting that made the blanket hug you and keep you warmer than the average quilt.  At one time the colors were vibrant and cheery, the sweet soft pinks, turquoises and lavenders of the 40s.  The pea-green backing was less than my favorite color, but hey, it was on the back.  This quilt was well loved! Several times over the years, before it was completely shredded, I thought of re-doing the blanket stitch around each butterfly…. but that task never made it high enough on my daily to-do lists. So the butterflies slowly flew away as did the days of the quilt’s life.

It became my son’s favorite blanket that he used on his bed for years.  It was under a presentable comforter so I didn’t care how ratty it looked.  Then he went on a church camping trip and took it as his only blanket…. making us look worse than homeless people.  I tried to simply talk him down from using it, but NO!  This was the coziest quilt in the galaxy.  I waited to confiscate it until the dark of the night when it had fallen off his bed and he was snoring.  Hidden under my bed is where it remained for several years because I was not sure if I could throw away the quilt my grandmother handmade and gave to me.

Yesterday I was obviously low on nostalgic sensibilities.  The quilt came out from under our bed and I seriously took in each butterfly, analyzing if they were still redeemable.  Some had no wings.  At all.  The ones that did have wings also had holes that could not be repaired.  Rolling up the shabby blanket as I headed for the garbage can I realized that if I didn’t take a picture the memory of the butterfly quilt would fade.  Hence, the photo and the story written for posterity, so my grandchildren will know the tale of the pea-green, vintage quilt that they never got the pleasure to wrap up in.

Goodbye butterflies!  You served us well!

P.S. O.K., after writing this, I went and got it out of the garbage and cut out and saved a few of the butterflies.  I figure I could frame them for the laundry room or for my future sewing room.  I guess I have a bit more nostalgia today than yesterday.  Thankfully it wasn’t garbage pick-up day!

Mystery Solved! Now what?

When in Tahoe a yearly ritual is to go garage sale-ing on Saturday morning.  You can find gems at Tahoe garage sales that aren’t available in Phoenix garage sales.  We have come home with a snow board (SOOOO useful in Phoenix), Calphalon pots, quilts, a purseshaped like Chinese take-out boxes, a Fiddler on the Roof DVD (“If I were a rich man, deedle diddle diddle deedle di da deedle di da dum”), a pink pooka shell necklace (Austin’s purchase), a BB gun and more, I’m sure.  I simply can’t remember all the nuggets of gold we’ve uncovered. 

THIS trip we found an antique Singer sewing machine.  I didn’t rapidly jump at the deal because, being a member of the BFZ sewing team, I know a bit about sewing machines and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to make this one work.  There was no pedal foot.  There was no attachment port for a pedal foot.  There was no hand crank.  There was no foot treadle.  There was a motor.  But it was a mere $10, so Rick bought it while I stood there perplexed.  Here is the little beauty that we’ve named Agnes:

Thankfully, someone who works at Singer put all the serial numbers on the web so we were able to quickly date the ol’ girl… 1924.  Wow!  Agnes is 84 years old.  But, you ask, what good is an antique sewing machine if it doesn’t sew?  I know.  My thoughts exactly.  The internet came through AGAIN.  Thank God Al Gore invented the internet for such a time as this. Just yesterday someone here in Phoenix put Agnes’ cousin up for sale and there was a peculiar bar that was absent from Agnes’ side.  It was described as the knee control bar.  Look closely.  It’s the bent crowbar looking black thingy:

Mystery solved!  So now what?  Somehow I don’t think a want ad for “1924 Knee Control Bar” will do the trick.  Where’s my 1776 metal forging blacksmith when I need one?  If only Paul Revere were here, he would save the day AGAIN.  Rick’s answer, “We just need to make one!”   Yeah, right.  I’ve heard that before.  I am wide open for suggestions.  HELP!