Hi, all, this is Laurel's daughter, Susan (aka HedgeMage). Mom has been ill, so while she rests up, OneMoreQuilt will be featuring posts from some quilting and quilt-loving guests. Mom is recovering steadily, and should be back to posting in no time. Happy Quilting!
To me, quilts mean family more than warmth or covering. All my great grandmothers made quilts. That's just what one did with scraps of cloth from making clothing, or old clothing too far gone to mend again, but not far gone enough for the rag bin. They also made special quilts: baby blankets, wedding gifts, and beautiful pieces for their own homes. Those were often made with cloth bought special for the quilt in question, and those are the ones that still remain.
I have my baby blanket still, in soft greens and lavenders. My Great Grandmother Elliott made it for me when I was born. I'm the youngest of all the great grandchildren, and this was the last baby quilt she ever made. She died when I was 11, but not before teaching me a lot of important things about life in the few visits I had with her. That quilt isn't just a blanket, or a family item, but a reminder of a very tough woman who made you earn her respect.
My mom and sister turned to making quilts about a decade ago. They don't make every day quilts, no. They make intricate works of art one's almost afraid to touch. My sister has made a few everyday quilts, but she gets rid of them quite often, so there aren't many of those left. She loves curves and falls of color that are appreciated best from across the room. My mother doesn't have one particular style. She plays with one, then moves to another. I have a quilt given by her that is an amazing expanse of stained glass in purple and black and white. I have already stained it, and torn one section, much to her approbation. She didn't expect me to use the quilt, I suppose. I use everything given me if I like it. I am much like my great grandmothers that way. Things are meant to be used, even beautiful quilts.