Skinned

baby quilt top my daughter made at age 14, her own design
While I was going through my stash looking for something to put on the back of Turtle Sherbet, I found yet another box of memories, or, well... fabric I'd long since forgotten.

Way back in the days of the dinosaurs, or perhaps when the dinosaurs began developing cheetah spots, I attempted to teach my adopted special needs daughter to quilt. Well, and crochet. And knit. And sew. And loom. As well as a host of other crafts.

I wish I had a photo of the crocheted Easter egg she made while I was designing a pattern for crocheted Easter eggs for my aunt. Because everything I did, my daughter wanted to do, too. She had managed to learn how to chain, single crochet and double crochet, but her personality was more freeform than cookie cutter. She enjoyed doing her own thing. The egg she made was actually shaped like an egg, but it had wings and fins and scallops and fringe and every kind of 3D effect you could imagine!

No, I did not throw it away or lose it. She gifted it to her therapist, and this was way before digital photography. If I do have a paper photo of her creation anywhere, I can't find it. Chances are, though, she gave it away before I was able to take a picture of it.

Her knitting wasn't bad at all. I think the continual repetition of garter stitch over and over and over calmed her, for she still does that now, 100 years or centuries and 16 lifetimes later.


my daughter's method for keeping her knitting from unraveling
Somewhere, I have photos of the outfits I helped her sew. She made a pair of overalls, a skirt and several matching and coordinating bandanas.

Then we broke into quilting. She picked a colorful bevy of animal skins, and before she started cutting out squares for a baby blanket for her then-Young Women's leader, who was expecting her first child, my daughter wanted to make a 3-ring binder cover she could show off at school.

It wasn't long after that she empty-nested me. I didn't even remember packing away her fabric and projects. Until I needed something that went with rainbows and/or turtles a good 13 or more years later.


an unfinished fabric bookcover from another lifetime
I found all those faux animal skins remnants, plus her unfinished book cover and quilt! Now, these fabrics are not going to work as a backing for Turtle Sherbet, but they pleaded with me to make them into something.

I had to giggle at the hearts she cut from each fabric. Usually from the center. Maybe she did indeed finish a book cover, and perhaps the one I found was intended for a friend, for I found no other hearts and no other heart projects.

I MUST make a quilt with one piece of faux animal skin fabric that must have been intended for clothing. There are three yards, and there's a heart-shaped vent in the center of the fabric. I think I need to do a reverse applique with this piece, and it can be either the front of the quilt or the back, and my, oh, my, will that quilt have a story!


I pieced strips for another jelly roll idea these remnants inspired. There wasn't enough animal skin fabric leftover to finish the idea I initially came up with, so these panels hung on the bedroom wall for a while, awaiting a light bulb to come on in my head.


I played around in Photoshop for inspiration. Oh, my heavens, did I ever get inspired!!!






















I finished SIX quilt tops in Photoshop!!! If only sewing could go that fast...


I finally came up with what I think is a unique plan for the strips, made one more white one (because there was enough cheetah fabric for that) and drafted my own 17.5-inch blocks. Whew! What a chore!!!

I don't think I had drafted my own quilt blocks in 25 or 30 years. Although the process was frustrating and my finished blocks are not perfect, drafting was a great way to return to my quilting roots. I do not believe any of my grandmothers or great aunts ever used templates unless they crafted them themselves. In fact, they probably used a wooden ruler and plain paper; I cheated and used a clear ruler and graph paper. Yet it was envigorating to return to "the old ways" for a day or two and to stimulate my math-challenged self in a way I haven't in many, many years.






Ta da!!!!!
Both my kids have, among other diagnoses, Reactive Attachment Disorder, and that's about the only dandelion seeds about them I will scatter in the public wind. To me, it's a miracle, pure and simple, either of them have any kind of bond with me. Even though things did not turn out the way every parent dreams, I provided a home for a pair of needy kids, and perhaps one day some of the seeds I tried to plant will grow.

I enjoyed reminiscing about the winter weekends my daughter and I spent together at the sewing machine with faux animal skins while I played with these remnants. It's been another rich opportunity to turn some sad memories around into some very happy and even some humorous memories.

Linking up with Crazy Mom Quilts here and Confessions of a Fabric Addict here.

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Broken Stash

A long time ago in a galaxy far away, in another time and life, I began a quillow fabric stash because I was raising a pair of adopted special needs kids with futon beds they loved piling high with quillows.

The best part of their individual quillow collections was I could easily bribe them into making their beds each day because it was so easy for them to fold up the mini quilts and tuck them inside the pillow pockets.

Then, as all fairy tales do, the happy story came to an early end. Both kids took permanent unauthorized field trips and set out to find a different way of life. One hopped across the country to find birth parents and discover why he was better off in an adoptive home. A painful lesson for him, but a satisfying phone call for me to hear regret for choices made and gratitude for the life that was saved. The other took off because the older one did, and she always had to do whatever he did. She didn't have a family to find across the country, so she explored housing options that required no commitment. An adventure for sure until the first winter set in, when she decided maybe a home wasn't such a bad thing after all.

The kids' quillows were carefully cleaned and donated to family services. The beds were donated to missionaries and a family facing the eminent loss of a parent to cancer.

Many unused cheater quilt panels lurked in the dark corners of my closet until they were packed away in boxes and moved to a smaller abode, where they were not taken out from hiding for many years. It was just too painful to look at them, much less decide what to do with them.

Then tragedy struck in another community, and Project Linus needed quilts, particularly quilts for children. Fires had ravaged the hillsides of a city on the other side of the United States, and one of the tiny tots I had babysat when I was but a teen myself was among the families evacuated. She had a family of her own now, and they lost everything. I had no second thoughts whatsoever sending quilts once intended for my own little ones to a community of strangers. I felt emotionally invested in the burned-out homes I'd never visited or seen thanks to a chance connection.

Out came the quilt panels, and in two nights, I pieced 18 quilt tops. I provided coordinating backing for many of the 18 flimsies. Women at church tied the quilts during the next two Saturdays, and off the finished quilts went with the prayerful hope of brightening the darkened lives of others.

My often overwhelming stash shrunk quite a bit that year. I've never regretted giving up something that once spurred such pleasant memories, then morphed into heartbreaking tears. Memories of those quilt tops bring great joy and satisfaction now.

Sometimes, things happen for a reason. I believe clearance fabric that fell so easily into my budget-strained path while my eyes were bigger than my sewing schedule was destined to be used to help someone in need. Not necessarily the children I thought they would go to, but children who might need and appreciate them just the same.

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Positive Thinking

To create more positive moments in your life, replace "if only" with "next time." -unknown
The tag on my chai tea bag when I returned home from our desert trek summed up the entire week. What an amazing trip, filled to overflowing with gorgeous scenery!

We didn't spend enough time in the San Rafael Swell. The goal is to hit that again, perhaps this spring, and hit JUST the Swell, nothing else.


We didn't go to Bryce Canyon at all this trip and instead opted for Kodachrome Basin, a site I've longed to explore since I first heard the name. With a name like that, it's gotta be good, right???


Kodachrome Basin got its name when National Geographic visited in 1948. Using Kodak's relatively new vivid slide film, photographers captured many of the 67 pipes, spires and cliffs featuring red Entrada sandstone and white Dakota sandstone. Park officials changed the name to Chimney Rock State Park a few years later, hoping to avoid legal entanglements with the film company, but Kodak wound up being a much better ambassador than the IOC and granted permission for use of its trademark name.

Kodachrome Basin is beautiful and probably worth more time than we gave it, but one of the things we learned this trip is to do supplemental shooting BEFORE hitting The Wave. Everything looks a little bland after the magnificent color of The Wave! We decided National Geographic named the Kodachrome basin after the film because they hadn't seen The Wave yet.




Last time we ventured into The Wave, we had planned to hike and shoot remote areas in and around Capitol Reef National Park. Again, this is something better experienced BEFORE The Wave because the colors just aren't as intense and overpowering, but Capitol Reef bears a magic all its own.

We didn't spend enough time in Capitol Reef, but there will be many more chances, even if we don't get lucky and get drawn for The Wave again in the next couple of years.


Both of us were a little gimpy after two days of fairly heavy rock scrambling. We hadn't undertaken such activity in a number of years, and we were out of shape. But now we have new goals for next time. And for life.

We'd planned to camp somewhere in Capitol Reef, but the lure of a hotel hot tube was too strong a temptation. Winter rates made the deal even more sweet. But then, the pool door was locked!!! Closed for winter. Oh, man!

The next morning, our car wouldn't start. Turned out the battery just needed a good charging after I ran it down charging camera batteries at the Arizona State Line Campground. Nippy night temperatures took rich advantage of my indulgence. However, this could have happened to us in the middle of nowhere, at White Pocket, at Wire Pass Trailhead or in Capitol Reef. Instead, it happened in a tiny little town, mostly closed for winter. We made it home safely and on time.

Next stop, Goblin Valley. Both of us had been there before, but not with good Nikon cameras. Unfortunately, I fell asleep in the car, and I had neglected to mention to The Lizard that I'd like to hit this state park again. We drove right by.


Moab is one of our favorite destinations. We'd stopped there on the way out, and we'd had dinner at the very same restaurant (and even the very same table!!!) where we'd enjoyed our first date nearly 10 years ago. A big plus was being able to watch portions of the Broncos and Seahawks playoff games while we enjoyed our meal and reminiscing about past trips and all the hockey playoffs we've watched in that very same locale.

We decided en route to home to stop there again and have dinner at the very same restaurant again. Just because. We would find things to do!

We did a brief pre-sunset tour of Arches National Park and enjoyed a quick drive through The Portal, picking out future trails to bike and camp.

No matter how often we get to go to Moab, it just isn't close enough! If we lived closer, we'd probably be there every weekend!


No trip west is complete without a visit with relatives in Grand Junction. We stopped for lunch and watched the puppies play again, and I cracked a tooth while munching on a soft piece of pizza. Go figure!!!

But again, we consider ourselves lucky. Or, well, blessed. This could have happened in White Pocket or in The Wave, while I was munching on almonds and pistachios. But it waited until I was back in civilization and close to home, close to a good dentist who rushed me in and took care of things.

It was a while before I could swallow more than soup or applesauce, but baby food is all the fuel needed to process something like 1,000 red rock photos. And one of my cutest puppy photos ever...

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I am Thankful

I made this list of things I was most thankful for one winter when I just couldn't fight depression setting in that year. The list worked then, and it still makes me smile now.

1. The Lizard
2. Inner peace, faith
3. Having Colorado and Utah in my backyard
4. Paw prints in the snow
5. Bobbing tufts of purple on July/August summits


6. The ability, endurance and determination to pedal all the way up Highway 5 again
7. Steady employment
8. Golden, red and orange leaves that rustle in the breeze
9. Pink, purple and crimson clouds
10. Friends


11. Crystal clear reflections on high altitude lakes
12. West Elk raspberries and Weminuche strawberries
13. Bugling elk, chirping marmots, screeching raptors, sheep banging heads, trickling tiny waterfalls, clucking ptarmigans
14. Camera batteries that don't die during once-in-a-lifetime shots
15. Coyotes that play with their food


16. Pink noses on white martens
17. 212,824 miles and still purring (NOW: 303,555)
18. Shoes and socks that don't wear blisters
19. Ibuprofen when they do
20. Sunbathing fluorescent lizards that skedaddle across red rock on their hind legs when startled


21. Gaining Payne and No Payne in a day
22. Having access to 60 flights of stairs to climb at will
23. The chilling grip of the river around my ankles as soft, squishy algae and mud seep between my toes
24. Lilac along the South Platte bike path, fresh rain on mesquite, the rush of steam from a Thermos of chai or cinnamon tea atop a winter summit, and the skunk that didn't bust me when I inadvertently trespassed
25. Weekends

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Be Still My Heart!

Over-dyeing can fix some of the biggest oops!


worsted weight failed wool rose yarn after a day in alkanet juice

failed cotton beet yarn after a quick dip in alkanet juice

failed cotton rose thread after a day in alkanet juice

bachelor buttons after a week of soaking in water and vinegar

failed rose wool sock yarn in bachelor button juice
(It still didn't help much.)

failed rose bachelor button wool sock yarn after a quick dip in alkanet

Ready to Crochet!

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