I"m just an old lump of coal"

January 25, 2014

Reblogged from: Searching for thin places

I have a creative streak. I am not an artist, I am creative, and those two things are not the same. I cook, sew, glue stuff, write stuff, and I enjoy it. If we could stay on the funny side of the street, I would be able to make enough stuff to make a decent living. But, for now, here on the real side of the street, I do fun stuff in my free time.

Recently on a fun expedition to Galveston Island TX while exploring garage sales and resale shops, I found an old quilt. It is nothing fancy, certainly nothing on the scale of the works of art produced by a couple of my colleagues, but it is an old quilt. It is made of pieces from old clothing; pajamas double knit trousers, cotton dresses or blouses. Many of them had starred to tear and fall apart. Some squares were completely missing. To make matters worse the batting was a cheap, cotton fill that probably never had a loft, and was separated horribly. It was a double bed sized rag, and I instantly fell in love with it.IMG_3749

The quilt was in a room with piles and piles of old linens; bed sheets, table cloths, towels and even some fabric still on bolts. And in that morass, I found this quilt. And I wanted this poor, sad rag of a quilt. Now I earned my negotiating skills in India, and honed them in Cambodia, and I was fully prepared to haggle over the price for this quilt. And, in my experience there are ways to go about this. So I left my not yet quilt in the room of tired linens, and wandered through the remainder of the shop, which was stuffed with some great and not so great old things. While standing near another customer checking out, I asked how much for that “ratty old quilt back there?” Standard response, “Oh, I would need to see it.” Okay, so I fetched the poor thing, and brought it to the counter.

“Three dollars.” That was the price quoted by the clerk. $3.00. This ghost of a quilt didn’t even demand a price high enough to haggle over. So for the under-rageous price of $3 this tired, tattered blanket was mine. And everything had to stop till I had repaired and reinstated this quilt to some semblance of usefulness.

Pretty sure I’m God’s $3.00 quilt. And that is a thin place.