This is just a quick post to let you know I'm still breathing. Barely. This is Thursday, the moving van comes early Saturday morning, there are still things to pack, papers to be signed, and on and on.
I decided to get rid of my old cedar chest, and when I was sorting through the things in it I came across something I had completely forgotten about. Something rather special. It is a handmade quilt, made for me when I was a baby by my Grandma Vera and some of her neighbours. Once I got over the depressing fact that my baby quilt qualifies as being vintage, meaning I must also qualify as being vintage, I was so happy to have stumbled across it.
I washed it and hung it out on the line. There was a gentle breeze blowing, and it dried in no time at all.
Rebekah and Alexandra both used this when they were babies, and now there is a new generation coming along to hand it down to. This quilt doesn't have the polished, perfected look of more modern quilts, but there is something special about knowing so much love and care went into its production.
There's also something special about seeing how handmade items get lovingly handed down from generation to generation.