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"Antique Quilts are hugs from the past" They are my passion, fact is I AM A QUILT-A-HOLIC AND PROUD OF IT. If you want to e-mail me it is quiltladyIII@aol.com and please do leave a comment. Also check out my Flickr account - http://www.flickr.com/photos/delainegatelyquilts/

Monday, November 15, 2010

A Rainy Dark Foggy Stay at Home Day

Doing some cleaning here and there, not too much I could give Jerry the wrong impression. He might expect me to clean house on a regular basis, well he should know there is no chance of that happening. My cleaning, like my quilting is a spontaneous event, and there is no telling when or what I will do.
As I look thru the house, I see so many nooks and crannies stuffed with good things, these treasures are far too good to throw away, so I tuck them here and there my new problem is I have collected more than I can tuck away. It is time to clean house, a time to get rid of some of my treasures. The real question is, can I?
At this point I am not sure, everything I drug home was valuable to me, not just junk but special bits and pieces I found at a great price and just too good to pass up. That is the key “too good to pass up” I have seen those shows about the hoarders, could that be me? I wonder. Have I crossed a line, gone pasted the place of no return; scary thought, very scary, I justify my collecting because I keep it in order but does that reduce the compulsion factor? I know I am a compulsive person this fact is becoming very real to me, the truth is there is something out of balance about my behavior. I am a quilt alcoholic and that is scary. So recognizing it is the first step to recovery, well I recognize I am compulsive and I understand it is time to do something about it so am I on the road to recovery? Right, I Have my doubts, but for now I am willing to try…I will let you know in six months………….Nov 10th 2010

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Leaves of God Fall 2009

My seasons have flown by so fast
I can hardly remember the details of my budding
I bloomed far too early forced by natures call
The flower of my youth stolen
My spring lost

I could not hold my bloom
As fruit required all my time
That season of summer went so fast
Consumed by my fruit youth slipped away
Never to swing freely in the warm summers breeze
I held fast lest my fruit should fall

Hot summer days turn to chilly nights
My fruit now ripe hear falls call
They release to face their own unknown
I watch as they fall free
My branches lift from their weight
I stand-alone the crisp air begins to blow

Indian summer comes with new love
I bask in the crisp sun light
My beauty is seen and shared
With the bloom of crimson leaves
My golden years begin

Too soon, I see my skin begin to shrivel
Youths golden beauty slips into grey
My hold on the tree of life seems futile
The frost of winter comes so fast
I hold tight lest I fall

So many leaves are falling
I watch as they let go one by one
My winter is here my time has come
The cold ground awaits my fall

The snows of winter cover my memory
Yet the family tree still stands
Spring will come
New leaves will unfold
The seasons of life begins again

Edmonds Ferry to Kingston

Edmonds Ferry to Kingston