A Long Time Ago

I still have my first quiltmaking book, "The Perfect Patchwork Primer" by Beth Gutcheon. My friend Michelle gave it to me as a high school graduation gift 38 years ago. Back then, very few books on the process of making quilts existed. The bicentennial of our country lay ahead, when a resurgence in this gentle art would take young American women by storm.

But in 1975, not many women wanted to spend dozens or even a hundred hours piecing bits of fabric together and quilting the top by hand when J.C. Penney sold pretty, practical comforters for 15.99 on sale. None of my neighbors, so far as I knew, made quilts. Yet I was crazy to learn how to do what the pioneer women had done (though for them the motivation was survival):  produce a quilt.

Perhaps Mrs. Wearin's quilt was my inspiration. Maybe I saw some in a museum. My family didn't own any old quilts. But Michelle knew about my growing interest and presented me with this paperback treasure.

I can still remember many graduation gifts. But this book is likely the only one I still possess. It was indeed a primer, and taught me what I needed to get started. Many  simple drawings and a small handful of black and white photos accompanied the easily-read text. I devoured the book, probably read every word many times over.

A few days ago, while attempting to thin out the scads of junk in our over-full basement, I came across a small muslin and blue-grey wallhanging, machine-pieced and hand-quilted. Was it my first project? I don't remember. It smelled musty. It survived washer and dryer and came out smelling fresh. Not beautiful, but with straight, neat seams and tiny but imperfect

stitches. It's just big enough to cover my dog on a cold winter's night.

I've come a good way since Michelle gave me that classic little book. We all begin somewhere, and those mid-1970s were the start of my long-time love of quilting.