We received a package from Anchorage last week. Like you do.
Not all that unusual - we have cousins there. They are Matt's, technically - I have only skin by marriage in the game. But I love them as much as I do my biological cousins.
They are a married couple, recently retired. No kids, love dogs, travel, and all that kind of fun stuff. Ideologically, they are very similar to us - which is a tall order.
Anyway, I kind of thought it would be coffee, as they are known to do that, but it was a huge box. Inside the box was a quilt. And a note explaining that they had been the keepers of some family heirloom quilts for some time, and they were now sharing them with other family members. We, being responsible adult-type people within the family lineage, received one.
There were some additional documents downloaded from the interwebs about various patterns, care tips, etc. And now, we have a quilt.
True confession. I have several, meaning two or three, of my family's quilts. They're in my basement. They may be covered in mold, spiders, or moldy spiders at this point. I haven't looked in a few years. And I should.
The challenge with heirlooms, family treasures, is that there is only so much room on the planet for these things. And they're only so useful. I love old quilts, but using them as actual bedding is a no-go. I need things we can throw in the washer and dryer every few weeks because between two smelly humans and one smelly dog, delicate care items are a no-go. I am not sending them to the dry cleaners to the tune of $30 a drop, because I don't want to spend that kind of money. And also, our neighborhood dry cleaners has closed down, and I don't have a new one picked out. We have very little need for dry cleaning in our life.
So, details to follow on what we've got planned for our quilts. As soon as I figure that out.
In a similar vein, my mother has resumed her process of Swedish Death Cleaning. Which is about as inviting as it sounds. She's basically culling through everything and getting rid of as much as possible, so when the time comes, we don't have to. Part of the process is giving things away, and honestly, we don't need any more things, at the moment. Or ever, really. I have so much to go through and discard. I fantasize about renting a dumpster for the back of the house. There's a place called Junk Bee Gone that does the very thing. Bee because that's their logo:
Clever. Very clever.
It's funny the things you fantasize about at various points in your life. In middle school it was about being asked to "go with" someone. In High School, you wanted a boyfriend and date to the Prom. Maybe a sweet car, college acceptance to your top choice. In college, I wanted to get into Journalism School, meet a nice guy. In my 20s, I wanted marriage, in my 30s I wanted a great job, and now in my 40s, I want a rental dumpster to purge all our crap. In my 50s, I'll want a tankless water heater. Although, truth be told, I want that now.
Anyway, I'm thinking we might make art out of it - get a nice hanging rack and put the quilt on it. Or one of those clothes ladders - and get my moldy spider quilts out, too.
Because as some of the younger members of both our families, we're going to be getting more stuff. That's just math.
Maybe a little genealogy.
I'm quilty...
Not all that unusual - we have cousins there. They are Matt's, technically - I have only skin by marriage in the game. But I love them as much as I do my biological cousins.
They are a married couple, recently retired. No kids, love dogs, travel, and all that kind of fun stuff. Ideologically, they are very similar to us - which is a tall order.
Anyway, I kind of thought it would be coffee, as they are known to do that, but it was a huge box. Inside the box was a quilt. And a note explaining that they had been the keepers of some family heirloom quilts for some time, and they were now sharing them with other family members. We, being responsible adult-type people within the family lineage, received one.
Sew What? |
There were some additional documents downloaded from the interwebs about various patterns, care tips, etc. And now, we have a quilt.
True confession. I have several, meaning two or three, of my family's quilts. They're in my basement. They may be covered in mold, spiders, or moldy spiders at this point. I haven't looked in a few years. And I should.
The challenge with heirlooms, family treasures, is that there is only so much room on the planet for these things. And they're only so useful. I love old quilts, but using them as actual bedding is a no-go. I need things we can throw in the washer and dryer every few weeks because between two smelly humans and one smelly dog, delicate care items are a no-go. I am not sending them to the dry cleaners to the tune of $30 a drop, because I don't want to spend that kind of money. And also, our neighborhood dry cleaners has closed down, and I don't have a new one picked out. We have very little need for dry cleaning in our life.
So, details to follow on what we've got planned for our quilts. As soon as I figure that out.
In a similar vein, my mother has resumed her process of Swedish Death Cleaning. Which is about as inviting as it sounds. She's basically culling through everything and getting rid of as much as possible, so when the time comes, we don't have to. Part of the process is giving things away, and honestly, we don't need any more things, at the moment. Or ever, really. I have so much to go through and discard. I fantasize about renting a dumpster for the back of the house. There's a place called Junk Bee Gone that does the very thing. Bee because that's their logo:
Clever. Very clever.
It's funny the things you fantasize about at various points in your life. In middle school it was about being asked to "go with" someone. In High School, you wanted a boyfriend and date to the Prom. Maybe a sweet car, college acceptance to your top choice. In college, I wanted to get into Journalism School, meet a nice guy. In my 20s, I wanted marriage, in my 30s I wanted a great job, and now in my 40s, I want a rental dumpster to purge all our crap. In my 50s, I'll want a tankless water heater. Although, truth be told, I want that now.
Anyway, I'm thinking we might make art out of it - get a nice hanging rack and put the quilt on it. Or one of those clothes ladders - and get my moldy spider quilts out, too.
Because as some of the younger members of both our families, we're going to be getting more stuff. That's just math.
Maybe a little genealogy.
Comments