Now I'm back to the Homestead towel, which needs to have trees added to it. So I'm wondering:
What if I baste a piece of green fabric (from a finely-woven linen shirt that never did fit quite right) onto the top of the cloth and then cut away everything but the treeline and appliqué the edges?
To be continued ...
And now a bedtime story (2)
The bed in our guest room came from my father's parents: Gertrude Elizabeth Snow and Arthur Snyder Barnett. My dad was their second son (third child) born fifteen years after his brother Ken (who never got over his younger brother being named Arthur Junior).
It made its way to my childhood bedroom at 141 Wellington Road in Mineola, where a monster took up residence underneath it each night. When we moved to East Williston the bed was relegated to basement storage where it gathered dust for a decade until Don and I rescued it along with an eclectic mix of attic-down cast-offs, taking them all in a U-Haul truck to our first home Virginia.
It moved from the master bedroom to the guest room at 127 Wilson Circle, from the garage at 260 Nina Lane to Meghan's room at 303 Hempstead Road. It survived a cross-country trek from Williamsburg to Wimberley, arriving at last in the guest room at Cascade Trail. When we don't have any company I use it to store my growing collection of repurposed cloth for future quilting projects.
Mom's quilt fits the bed perfectly and her father's painting hangs over them both. But that's another story.