"You know who your real friends are..."

Maybe some of you have already heard this story.

I tell it a lot.

It's the story about a woman at a farm stand, late summer, outside of Omaha, Nebraska.  

It's a story about the most unusual of friends.

It's a thanksgiving story.

A woman stopped at a farm stand and gathered baskets full of produce - she was staging a magazine photo shoot in a 1910 farmhouse, and needed props for the shoot.  While she was gathering her produce, another woman, unusually dressed, came into the barn.  This unusual woman would wander through the produce displays, admiring the tomatoes, the beets.  She would beam at the carrots.  She would pick out a handful of beans, take them to the counter, ask about them, compliment how lovely they were and then return them. Then she'd pick up a small bag of potatoes, take them to the counter, ask about them, compliment how lovely they were, and then return them.  Finally, she asked about the okra that was growing by the barn.  "It's out of season," the farm stand clerk said.  "if you want to pick some yourself, you can have whatever you can pick, no charge."  So outside she went, to pick her own okra, leaving behind the beans, the potatoes, the expensive beets...  

As the woman from the photo shoot was checking out, she stopped to look back through the barn doors.  "Wait," she said, and went back through the aisles again, picking out a handful of beans, a small bag of potatoes, and some beets and carrots.  She told the clerk, "Add these to my bill, too."  The clerk started to wrap them up with the other photo shoot produce.  "No, these are for the woman outside," she said, "But don't tell her I bought them. Please just be sure to give them to her.  After I'm gone," she added.

it was a selfless act of reaching out - of giving - regardless.  It was a wonderful thing to witness.

So, for this week, Thanksgiving is almost upon us.  

And this Thanksgiving, I want to share with you, that in the last few weeks, I have been moved to tears more than once.

I have been moved to tears by people that have stopped, and looked at me.  

Seen me.

And realized.  

And then they have asked.

"What are you doing for Thanksgiving?" 

And then added, "Come with me on Thanksgiving."

They have looked beyond the quilting.  They have looked beyond the neighbor.  They have looked beyond the busy.  They have looked beyond the every day.  And Seen Me.  Just me.  Only me.

And then they have said, "Come with me - come be a part of my family.  We have room enough.  We have enough for you too."

What a way to find out who your true friends are.  Really.  

And like the woman picking okra in the field, sometimes what you find is that it is the most unlikely of persons that reaches out to you.  That sees you.  That realizes.  

This Thanksgiving, I would ask each and every one of you to be that stranger that buys someone those admirable potatoes.  

Be that person that looks at another and really sees them.  

Be mindful of others' needs.  

Thread a needle for a friend.  

Sew on a binding for another. 

Step out of yourself.

Open your home to someone this season.  

Open your heart to someone this season.

Because you just might move someone to tears with your compassion, your kindness, your selflessness.

And you just might get so much more in return by doing so.

This year, when I count my blessings on Thanksgiving, I will count you.

Thank you, my friends.

Natalie.

be.do.create

2008

 

 

Winter is for Comfort

Well, it's certainly sunny here in California, but the picture above is Waterloo Nebraska, and the farmhouse doesn't look anything like this picture at the moment.  The trees have gone into hiding, and the grounds are still covered with snow.  It's a good time to bake for friends, and hand quilt something large enough to fall over the frame and onto your lap.

Winter is comfort.

What I really wanted to discuss with you this week, tho, was nice, flat, square quilts.

You know, when you go to a quilt show or see a quilt in a magazine - they are always hanging so flat, and so square.  I am here today to put the myth to bed.  They do NOT start out that way.  They are blocked.  They are hung.  They are hosed off and stretched and pinned and pulled and steamed into submission.  Take your pick - everyone has a special technique...one friend of mine (AQS winner, I might add...) strings her quilts up in the back yard, puts a metal rod in the top and bottom, and sprays it with the garden hose.  No kidding.  No special frame - she just hangs the rods from the awning on the back of the house.  Now, this, I admit, is extreme.  And she is a professional, so don't try this at home.  And she colorfast tests all the fabric she uses.  Please.  Don't take my advice and put your 1800's quilt out to hang from the gutters of the house.  But don't feel bad about your quilt with its lumps and bumps and funny corners either.  Talk to someone in your quilt guild.  Or a featured quilter at a show.  Or a teacher at a seminar.  Ask them.  They'll admit it.  And maybe they'll share their secrets with you too!  And if you want to experiment, start small.  Make a sample and try different bocking techniques.

Have you heard about the newest soap on the market?  It's from the knitting side of the pond.  soak.  Try it.  It's worth the extra effort, and it's low residue.  Me, well, I have been using Orvus Paste (tm) for years - on my fine washables (ahem), sometimes in my hair (if it's good enough for a horse...) and on my quilts.  But.  It's full of suds.  Try soak.  If Amy Butler can design a limited edition fragrance for the team, well, I can certainly try it.  And so can you.

Until next time, happy quilting in the happy new year.  We are off to Road to California Quilt Show in Ontario, California next week, so I'll try to post from the show.  We're building a whole new set for the booth, so look for the Plantation Store if you visit.

Thanks for thinking of

b e y o n d   t h e   r e e f

be. do. create. 

2008

Natalie.