My grandma made me this hand-stitched, paper-pieced, queen sized quilt for me when she still lived in Adelaide, when I still lived in a sharehouse. She kept it for me and told me she would give it to me when I got married. It was to be my “Nuptial Quilt”. At some point she gave up waiting, and gave it to me anyway. It was probably about the time that it was clear I would be spending my life with Phil but would go around shouting that I was “NEVER going to get married – there was no point to such an outdated tradition” etc etc. So we had it on our bed and then we decided it would be kind of fun to have a wedding (party-dress-rings-friends : what’s not to like?) and so we got married anyway.
The floral patches are made from hundreds of little scraps of Liberty material and it has a kind of timeless charm. It’s a beautiful, but delicate quilt. About a year ago, we decided we needed to store it as it was not standing up to the love of small children. Bed jumping (and the resulting spilled coffee), vegemite hands, smeared banana and the tunneling games, cocooning games, underwater adventure games were all starting to take their toll. We have replaced it with a lovely Nathalie Lete quilt which does the trick but isn’t quite so special, because Nathalie isn’t my 93 year old grandma.