Southern Album Quilt

Amidst all the chaos that is my life, I began to piece the Southern Album Quilt in January 2010.  The quilt bee I belong to (and have been a devoted member of for nine years) agreed to let this be our particular project for the year.  Usually, we do a sort of a sampler pattern that lasts 12 months.  This quilt is a bit more ambitious and we're going to be working on it through April 2011 (and that's being optimistic....)

The quilt is designed by Kristin C. Steiner and Diane F. Wilson and it's beautiful.  I've long adored Baltimore Album quilts and this one is designed along the same lines, except it celebrates all things southern -- from kudzo to sweet tea.  It is pieced and appliqued...heavy on the applique.  Every block has applique in it and four of the blocks are completely appliqued.  There are women in our group who machine appliqued their pieces and then there's the rest of us who are devout needle-turn applique-ers.  Both techniques are producing some wonderful quilts.

If you want to make this quilt, I would advise you to flip to the very last block, Fortress Star in Southern Vines, and do that first.  This is the medallion block.  The center of the block is a simple pieced star, but it is framed with strips of fabric that are intricately appliqued.  This is the part of the quilt that takes the most time.  If you're working on a schedule, teaching this quilt, or if you're group is doing this as a block-of-the-month club, I'd recommend that everyone start this block first and work on this one while you're still constructing your other blocks.  The framing has 44 small circles that have to be appliqued, so it is labor intensive.

But oh-so-well worth it!  The quilt is beautiful!

The first block the book introduces is Friendship Star with Friendly Berries:

This is a pretty straight-forward block, however, it's a good idea to completely read through the directions on every block of this quilt before beginning to cut your fabric.  Sometimes you gotta read through them twice.  Three times may even be a really good idea.  There are no allowances for half-square triangles or hour-glass triangles, so if you opt to use those techniques, you'll need to purchase extra fabric.  And on the background fabric for the pieced blocks, you may want to purchase two yards instead of only one.  I found myself running short and having to re-order material about three-quarters of the way through this quilt.

The quilt designers love circles, so early on, it's a good idea to decide which method you are most proficient with in circle-making.  Kristin and Diane recommend a tool called Circle-Eze.  I purchased it and was highly satisified with the end results.  I would recommend using a spray starch (not sizing and not Mary Ellen's) for use with the Circle-Eze.  The Niagra brand found at most grocery stores works very well. 

There is also the Perfect Circles method.  This tool is found at most quilt shops.  I had to order the Circle-Eze.  Either method takes some time, so I simply spent a rainy Saturday afternoon making about 50 circles.  I stored them in a plastic box, big enough so they wouldn't get "smushed" and then took them out as I needed them. 

I have class....

I took a class today from Carrie Pippins from Forsyth County.  I heard of Carrie through a good friend of mine, Ellen Freeman.  For years and years, I was a self-taught quilter until Hancock Fabrics offered a block-of-the-month club.  It was there I met Ellen and she took me under her wing and taught me lots of tricks and tips.  Ellen was in an applique block-of-the-month club with Carrie and I heard Ellen sing Carrie's praises for years.  So when Dragonfly Quilt Shop offered an applique workship with Carrie today, I had to take it.

This was the second quilt class I've take this month...really odd for me.  It's not that I'm one of those solitary quilters who doesn't enjoy quilting with a group, it's just there's finally a great quilt shop nearby offering really good classes at reasonable prices.  It would seem ungrateful if I didn't take advantage of this! 

Two classes, of course, now means two additional UFO's to add to my list, but it has also inspired me at a dreary time time of the year when my inspiration tends to run at an all time low.  Nothing like a room full of other quilters with bright fabrics and wonderful fellowship to kick start your creativity.

I am teaching one more time this month.  Saturday, January 22, I am teaching a beginning quilters workshop with the High Point Quilt Guild.  It's from 1 - 2:30 p.m. on the third floor of the High Point Library. 

Two classes taken...two classes taught.  My quilting karma is in balance.

Why I Quilt

There is a quilt that resides in my bedroom, on a quilt stand that once belonged to my mother.

The quilt is old and tattered, obviously a utilitarian quilt and not one that was put away and kept for use “when company comes.” The quilt once belonged to my Great-grandmother Perry, who machine pieced it and quilted it with what looks like heavy-duty white cotton thread.

I think about my mother’s grandmother the first of each month, as that’s the time when I take the quilt off the stand, inspect it for excessive tearing or fraying, and carefully refold it. As I examine each block, I wonder where the fabric came from and how it was used. Mom has told me that she remembers some of the fabric from her grandmother’s dresses or her grandfather’s shirts. I wish I knew the full history behind the quilt. I wish I knew where the fabric came from.

I wish I had known my great-grandmother better.

Some of the background on that quilt is known. Great-grandmother Perry lived in Eden (back then it was Spray), North Carolina. Before the mistake that is NAFTA, Eden was a textile hub. No doubt the fabric came from local stores. And the quilt contains no batting. It is quilted on top of an old blanket. From what I understand from local quilt historians, that wasn’t unusual. There was a local textile mill that produced blankets. Once a month or so, this mill would sell second-run blankets and scraps to the locals. No doubt that this second-run blanket was a lot cheaper for Grandma Perry to purchase than batting during the Depression, and much easier than growing her own cotton for batts, as some quilters have been known to do back then. If Grandpa or one of her children worked in the textile mill, they may have even been given the blanket.

But it’s that quilt that speaks to me. And its voice has gotten louder over the last couple of years as I began to actively research my family tree. My mother’s family came from Germany, the Netherlands, and Scandinavia. They settled in Maryland and migrated to Virginia and then North Carolina.

From there it was like they were shot out of a canon. They headed west with a determination that is to be admired. Kentucky. Kansas. Texas. Colorado. And finally, California. Besides discovering the sheer grit and perseverance of these people, I discovered quilts. Lots of quilts. Many of the obituaries of my great-great aunts and grandmothers list them as quilters. Some even tell what quilt bee they belonged attended in the same sentence they tell what church they belonged to – as if both organizations are equally important. There are pictures of these women made with their quilts as the backdrop. There are photos of infants wrapped in quilts.

And it’s this history that keeps me stitching. Quilting is a tangible link to my past. Whether I’m piecing or quilting (and there is a difference), I remember that this is something my mother does, my grandmother did, and my great-grandmother participated in. I hear their voices, feel their presence…and miss them.

I quilt because of the history of the art. I quilt because it’s a stress-relief. I quilt because it slows me down. It’s not something you can do in a hurry. The slow, steady pace of hand work allows me time to think and dream of other quilters and other quilts – it allows me, if only for an hour or so each week, to forget about my work, forget about my problems, and just …be.

I quilt because I need to and because I have to. Quilting, while it did begin in England hundreds of years ago, has become an American art form, just like banjo-playing and bluegrass music. It needs to be remembered. It needs to be passed on to future generations. I look at myself as a link from the past to the future – preserving the art, but eventually handing it over to the next group of quilters.

And so, as I’m gathering fabric for my quilt projects, all of these thoughts circle through my mind and tug at my heart. I’m currently working on A Southern Album Quilt.  It’s a quilt that sings the praises of sweet tea and kudzu and corn and beans and cotton. It’s distinctly part of who I am and where I’m at. It’s pieced and hand-appliquéd and going to take me probably two to three years to finish.

But I’m in no hurry. As I piece and do the handwork, I remember the women in my past that faced the western frontier with a strong-will and a desire for beauty. I honor the woman that dealt with the Depression the best way she knew how, using an old blanket and fabric scraps to keep her family warm. I think about my mother and the quilt that is on her bed now as well as the log-cabin one she made me years ago that is carefully folded up in a sheet and kept in the chest at the foot of my bed. And I pray that somewhere between my daughter and the first wave of grand kids that will hopefully come my way in the next few years, there will be another quilter or two to pass down the family tradition to.

It's a process. Pick the pattern. Chose the fabric. Measure twice, cut once. Match and stitch. Layer. Mark. Quilt. Like history, it doesn't happen fast. Like the future, it comes together a little at the time. Like any heirloom, it tells a little about who you were. And like a mother's love, it keeps you warm and dry.