Addicted to Quilting
an adaptation of a poem written by Molly Perry
She learned to quilt on Monday.
Her stitches all were very fine.
She forgot to thaw out dinner.
so we went out to dine.
She quilted miniatures on Tuesday.
she says they are a must.
They really were quite lovely.
But she forgot to dust.
On Wednesday it was a sampler.
She says stippling’s fun.
What highlights! What Shadows!
But the laundry wasn’t done.
Nine patches were on Thursday –
Green, yellow, blue and red.
I guess she really was engrossed;
She never made the bed.
It was wall hangings on Friday,
In colors she adores.
It never bothered her at all,
That crumbs were on the floors.
I found a maid on Saturday,
My week is now complete.
My wife can quilt the hours away;
The house will still be neat.
Well, now it’s only Sunday,
I think I’m about to wilt.
I cursed, I raved, I ranted,
Cause the maid has learned to QUILT!
TEN COMMANDMENTS OF MY SEWING ROOM!
Thou shalt put away no ironing board before its time.
Thou shalt not expect meals, clean laundry, or a sprakling house when sewing calls.
Thou shalt walk through this room as if treading on needles and pins.
Thou shalt not use my fabric shears.
Thou shalt not covet my sewing machine.
Thou shalt stick no unthreaded needles in the pincushion.
Thou shalt always remember a stitch in time saves nine.
Thou shalt not touch my organized mess.
Thou shalt remember that each item sewn is stitched with love and care.
Thou shalt praise God often for all creative talents.
And one for the Christmas season…
ODE TO A QUILTER by Gloria E. Webster
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring, except a wee little mouse.
And Mama in her kerchief still stitching away
to finish a quilt for the very next day.
“I’ve done one for Steve and one for sweet Sue.
There’s one for young Paul and my Sarah too.
If only I finish this last one tonight,
little Mary will surely cry with delight!
Then out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
she jumped from her chair to see what was the matter.
“Now what’s all that noise,” she thought with a frown,
“I do hope the old chimney’s not falling down!”
She peered out the window and what did appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little spry driver so lively and quick,
she knew it certainly was not old Saint Nick!
And in a twinkling she heard on the roof,
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
Then down the chimney He came dressed all in red.
She thought she was dreaming and still in her bed!
He was clad all in fur from his head to his foot
and he called out to her, “You should clean out that soot!”
“Clean out that soot? No time to sew?
Young man, you’re crazy–now go, go, Go!
I must finish this quilt before the morning light.
I’ve been sewing all the day and most of the night.”
He danced as he worked, a right jolly old elf,
and she laughed as she watched him in spite of herself.
Then he filled all the stockings from his patchwork sack.
It was stuffed to the brim and hung on his back.
He gave a quick nod and when he was through,
smiling at her, up the chimney he flew.
Dazed, she wondered if that really might be…
“No,” she murmured, “my eyes are playing tricks on me.”
And grimly she put needle to cloth once again.
“Next year, truly, on January First I’ll begin,
no more sewing and quilting on the very last night.
These weird dreams are too much.” Then she turned out the light.
“Yes, next year I’ll be organized. I’ll be done on time.”
(“Ho, ho, chortled Santa, “Seems I’ve heard that line.”)
Now her quilts were all wrapped and under the tree.
Of course, not all were complete–it just couldn’t be.
But tucked into two boxes were notes with this line,
“To be finished after Christmass–Mom ran out of time!”