The Quilt Before The Storm

“What are you guys doing?” Lauren Sawyer said as she came in from the driveway, pushing the door closed with a bang. “I knocked, but nobody even looked up, so I let myself in with that key you gave me.”

“Come on in and make yourself some tea,” Aunt Beth invited. “It’s so noisy in here with the trees scratching on the windows, we didn’t hear you.”

“What are you doing with that iron? It smells horrible.”

“We’re making tarps out of plastic grocery bags,” Harriet told her. “Want to help?”

“Don’t you still have some quilts that need to be sewn?” she asked. “That’s why I came by. I turned in a design to a client, and I can’t do anything more until they test the first part, so I have a little free time.”

“How nice of you to think of the project,” Connie said.

“You say that like I don’t do my share,” Lauren shot back.

“Now, honey, I meant nothing of the kind. Harriet, don’t you have some fabric that still needs cutting?”

Harriet got Lauren set up at the cutting table with a ruler, rotary cutter and several yards of brown plaid flannel.

“Where did you get so much of the brown flannel?” Lauren asked. “Didn’t we put this in every quilt, front and back?”

“Marjory got a special deal from her distributor,” Mavis said. “There was a defect in the print. If you look at the plaid in the whole piece, there’s a swath through the center that doesn’t have its yellow stripes.”

Lauren leaned closer to the fabric, carefully examining the pattern.

“You’re right. I can see it now that you point it out. It hardly seems like a reason to reject the fabric.”

“Yeah, but if you were making a quilt for a show, you wouldn’t want fabric that wasn’t the same on part of it. In any case, it was all the better for us. Marjory got it for two dollars a yard and is giving it to us at the same price.”

“I guess you can’t argue with that,” Lauren said and set about cutting the squares of flannel that would be sewn into rag quilts.

Rag quilts are so named because of the ragged edges that result when you sew two or more squares of fabric wrong sides together then sew the resulting layered squares to each other with the seams on the top of the quilt. These seams are snipped to the stitching line every quarter inch or so, and when the fabric used is a flannel or other loosely woven material, these snipped margins fray when washed. This produces a thick fuzzy seam that adds to the warmth of the resulting quilt and eliminates the need for batting or additional quilting. This also makes them quick and easy to produce in mass quantities.

“What are these big squares for?” Lauren asked Harriet. “I don't remember us using anything that big in the quilts we've already made.”

“Those aren't going in the quilts,” Harriet said. “I thought we could sew two big squares, right sides together, then turn them and topstitch them down on three sides at one edge of the top of the quilt to make a pocket.”

“Why didn't you just say we're going to make quillow's?” Lauren asked, cutting off anything else Harriet was going to say on the subject.

Quillow was the term used to describe a quilt with a pillow pouch attached. The quilt could be folded up into the pocket to form a pillow or unfolded to use as a cover.

“I wasn't sure-” Harriet started, but the look Lauren made her stop. “I'll leave you to it.”

She turned back to the tarp makers.

“Is anyone getting hungry?” Aunt Beth asked when the group had been at work for more than an hour. “I was thinking I could call for pizza.”

“Sounds good to me,” Harriet said. “Anything to avoid going out in this weather.”

The rest of the group agreed, and after a brief debate about which toppings they all wanted, Aunt Beth placed the order.

“They said thirty minutes,” she reported when she’d hung up the phone. “I’m surprised they aren’t busier than that.”

“I’m glad,” Connie said. “I’m getting hungry. Rod and I spent the afternoon putting our patio furniture in the garage and securing the potted plants. We ate cheese and crackers instead of a proper lunch, to take advantage of the lull between storms. He’s off getting gas for our generator while I’m here.”

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that,” Lauren said and shuddered, pulling her zip-front sweatshirt closer around her. “My new apartment has that big front window overlooking the cove and no fireplace or wood stove.”

“I brought extra wood into the garage to dry,” Harriet said. “You can come here if things get really bad. I’ve got two fireplaces, and my stove top is gas, so I can still cook if the power goes off.”

“The downstairs water heater is gas, too,” Beth added. “When I had the propane tank installed for the stove, I figured it might be useful to have a gas water heater, too, just in case.”

“We may all be over here,” Mavis said. “I’ve got a wood stove, but hot water and a stove top would be real nice.”

“You’re all welcome to come,” Harriet said. “But I’m with Lauren-I’m hoping the weatherman is crying wolf.”

“I heard the Methodist church is setting up a shelter for the homeless people and anyone else who needs warming,” Mavis said. “They don’t usually go that far unless it’s pretty certain.”

Rain pelted the windows, and the wind howled as a prolonged gust forced its way up the driveway and through the trees surrounding Harriet’s house. The women went back to their stations, cutting bags and ironing sections of tarp together.

“Someone call for pizza?” Robin McLeod called as she came into the studio twenty minutes later, her arms laden with flat white boxes. The door slammed behind her.

“Did you get a new job we don’t know about?” Harriet asked, knowing that since Robin was a mother and part-time lawyer as well as a quilter, this was unlikely.

Robin laughed. “No, I called Connie’s house, and Rod said you were all over here, so I decided to join you. I stopped on my way to order pizza for my gang, and I heard them putting your order together. I told Theresa I was on my way here and could save them the trip, so here I am. I took the liberty of adding cheesy bread sticks and marinara sauce to the order.”

“Let’s go to the kitchen so we don’t have to move our projects to make table space,” Aunt Beth suggested.

“I’ve got diet and fully leaded soda in both light and dark varieties as well as fizzy water,” Harriet announced as she and the rest of the group followed Robin to the kitchen. She took drink orders then prepared the requests as the group settled around the table in the sunny yellow kitchen.

“Has anyone talked to DeAnn?” Mavis asked. “I called her last week, and she had a house full of sick kids.”

“Baby Kissa and one of the boys are better, but her younger son is still having ear problems,” Robin reported. “I talked to her this morning, and she said they’re thinking about packing up and heading south to her mother-in-law’s until the storm is over. They haven’t taken Kissa to meet that part of the family yet anyway, so now is as good a time as any. DeAnn hasn’t wanted to travel out of state until they had some sort of custody papers in hand, and given that Kissa had no history or documents, it’s been a slow process.”

DeAnn Gault and her husband had adopted the baby whose parentage had been a mystery the Loose Threads had unraveled several months earlier.

“Jenny’s out of town, too,” Beth said. “She left this morning to visit her son in Texas for two weeks.”

“The rats are all leaving the sinking ship,” Lauren said and took a bite of her pepperoni pizza slice.

“Jenny planned her trip months ago,” Beth said sharply. “And I don’t blame DeAnn for not wanting to deal with a house full of sick kids with the power possibly going out.”

“Who wants to come to the homeless camp and deliver quilts and tarps tomorrow?” Connie asked.

“I can’t commit until I hear from my client,” Lauren said.

“I can come,” Harriet said. “I’d like to see how muddy it is at the camp. Our tarps may not help if the ground is too mushy.”

“Beth and I are going to be at the church helping to put together hygiene kits,” Mavis said.

“I assume that’s soap and toothbrushes,” Harriet said.