In My Mama’s House: Vintage Quilt Porn
I don’t know about you, but Christmas week at my grandparents’ house isn’t exactly a hotbed of activity. Papa does get up at around 5 am, of course, so if I got up, too, I could hang out with him while he sits at the kitchen table and reads the newspaper and drinks coffee for three hours. Then we can move into the den and watch Fox News for a while. We could yell at the dog, watch through the front window to see what the neighbors are up to, and when the postal worker comes, well, we are going to hop up and get that mail RIGHT AWAY. We have to hurry, you know, because if we’re going to go to Western Sizzlin’ for dinner, we have to be there by 4:45 pm at the latest.
Yeah.
So you may not be surprised that while my Papa watches Fox News all day, I putter. This is where I found the million of Christmas cards from people we’re not even related to anymore and got permission to upcycle them into gift tags. One time I found a bunch of my Mama’s really old resin record albums and ripped them all to my computer. I dug around in the attic until I found all my old Strawberry Shortcake dolls and Transformers and He-Man guys (remember this dude? He’s my favorite).
And then, a couple of days ago, I found the quilts.
