Bye Gram, I Love You

It was finished in May of 2010, but was sent to jurying for Quilt National, but didn't get in.  Finally now I can post it.   It was made in memory of my grandmother who died in May 2009.  

Every week for 10 years I would go over to their farm and see them, to do some housework, or just  to visit.   I did this by myself, and then as I had my two sons, they would come with me.   And every single time, just as I was leaving,  I would kiss her cheek and say, 'Bye Gram, I love you'. 

She was the most remarkable woman I have ever known.  A farmer's wife to my grandfather, a fabulous cook, a loving grandmother, and of course a quilter.   Her grandchildren and then great grandchildren were her greatest joy.   She was always so excited to see us.  Everything about her was fun, whether you were in her kitchen doing dishes or peeling apples, or playing euchre, you were smiling.

This quilt was made from her blouse and a sleeper that both boys wore when she held them.   The clothing is stuffed to give it more of a 3D appearance.   The yarns couched into the background were from a sweater that she was unravelling near the end of her life.  She was so thrifty and environmentally friendly.  Decades beyond her time.

And the buttons.... there is a story.   The yellow buttons, quite a few of them, represent how sunny and happy life was when she was alive.   The orange ones, not so many, show the time of her dying and how painful that was for us all.  And the red, all the red buttons, that is to represent all the love she left behind for us.  

She witnessed my birth, watched me grow up, celebrated my marriage, cherished my children, and I held her hand when she died. 

Bye Gram, I Love You

Pansy Tablerunner

I was given some beautiful pansy fabric in the spring, along with a placemat pattern.

Pansies are special to me, so I wanted to make something unique and lovely with the fabric. I decided I wouldn't use placemats enough, so decided to design my own tablerunner.

The yellow/green leaves are free motion quilted and couched on the outside. The pansies are thread painted in the center. The tablerunner looked so good that it didn't make the table.

Instead it is sitting on my cedar chest with the perfect picture on top.

Traditions....

Traditions.... when do they start and when do they stop?

I have lived on the island, full time for 11 years. When I moved here permanently, I unknowingly started a tradition. Every year I would drive to Sudbury at the first of December and go to my favourite greenhouse. They are my favourite for several reasons. First, when I moved back to Ontario and didn't know anyone in my old city, they took a chance on me and gave me a job. Then they turned around and treated me like one of the family. And when it comes to plants, they don't import their poinsettia plants, they grow them.

I started buying poinsettias as I never could figure out what to get my grandparents for Christmas. They had everything they needed. Really. Gram would never want you to spend money on something fancy for her kitchen. She would be thrilled to get a new spatula. They never indulged on themselves. Never. So I would go out and get them the largest, most beautiful poinsettia I could find. And while I was there, I would buy some for other family and friends as well.

This year, I haven't gone yet. I haven't marked a day to go, or made plans to go. I don't know if I am going to go. This year there is no Gram to buy a poinsettia for. This year, I can't deliver the biggest, most gorgeous plant I can find. This year I don't get to hear her tell me 'that I shouldn't have.'

Does the tradition continue without the most important woman in my life?

This year...

Grandad's Spear

14 months ago my grandfather passed away, and the emptiness in my heart remains just as strong as the day he died. But I will tell you a story that gives me some comfort.

When Grandad was 82 yrs old, which would have been 13 years ago, he was coming up from the crick past his farm on his 4 wheeler when he was greeted by 2 MNR officers. One he had known for a long time and with him was a very keen rookie.

The problem was Grandad was caught spearing fish with his homemade spear. It was 8' long made of a cedar pole with the end of a pitchfork attached to it. Grandad had made it. Now to spear with this, it has no barbs at the end, so you have to drag the fish on the bottom and it takes a great deal of talent to actually spear one and get it out.

Grandad told the conservation officers that he had family coming for Easter and he was getting some fish and yes he did have more at home in the freezer. So off they all went up to the farm where Gram proceeded to give the rest of the fish to the officers. And they also took the spear.

The officers took the fish to the Hope Farm and 3 days later the senior officer came by and told Grandad he wasn't going to charge him but wondered if he could keep the spear for teaching purposes. Grandad agreed. I should tell you that during those 3 days, the senior officer did come by once but thought no one was home so didn't go in, and when he finally did show up, Gram told him that Grandad had been sick with worry over it.

As time passed the spear was forgotten, until last month when I ran into that officer and we started chatting. He told me that he didn't want to do anything to Grandad except issue a warning, but had the other guy with him so needed to follow procedure. And he said he always meant to return the spear as it is an heirloom to the family but it just was forgotten.

Last Friday as the boys and I were out for a walk, an MNR truck pulled up beside us and the officer got out and handed me the coveted spear. As the tears threatened to come pouring out, I managed to choke out a thank you as I accepted a tool that my Grandad had touched and used countless times over his life.

It is now back where it belongs, in the Dewar family, and hanging on our wall. And every time I look at it, I think of Grandad.