my mom was the best when it came to celebrating our birthdays ... there was always a birthday cake with a candle for each year (plus one to grow on) and birthday dinners and singing the happy birthday song and presents and hugs and kisses...
she worked so hard to get me here, and then to raise me up...
i had no idea of how hard being a mom is till i had my own kids...
which was when i started giving her pink roses for my birthday
because pink is my favorite color of rose
and that made the giving about both of us...
the first year that she was gone from this Life my birthday was really, really sad...
i took pink roses to the cemetery and told both of my parents
thank you for being my mom and dad...
and i've done the same every year since...
anywho...
a year ago i decided to make myself a quilt of pink roses for my next birthday...
i bought yards and yards of blue-with-pink-dots batik fabric
and searched the stash for pinks and pinks and more pinks ... and bought a yard of every pink Fairy Frost that i could find on line and in quilt shops...
gotta have me some pink flamingos
when i bought this batik a couple of years before that particular herb became legal in Colorado,
Auntia asked me, "When are you ever gonna use that?!?"
and now i have an answer
strawberries and roses - what's not to love?!?
piecing the 64 roses took all summer...
and piecing them together was another couple of weeks ... it would have taken a lot less time if i had noticed that some of those roses weren't pointing in the right direction BEFORE i sewed all the rows together...
then i bought more yards and yards of pink Lakehouse hydrangea petals to piece the backing ... and sent it off to Liz for quilting with thorny roses...
and trimmed it...
and bound it...
all together now...
eight times eight is sixty-four
8 roses wide by 8 roses long, with one...
to grow on
on the back so i could write a message from me to me...
all that planning and spending and piecing and quilting (thank you, Liz, for not giving up on the Great Pink Thing) and binding and being absolutely CERTAIN that it was gonna look way cool once it was on my bed was followed by
what the?!? what is wrong?!? why don't i lurve it?!?
and then i remembered...
Grams Bear - in tribute to my mom
okay, that's better...
All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his.
Oscar Wilde
she worked so hard to get me here, and then to raise me up...
i had no idea of how hard being a mom is till i had my own kids...
which was when i started giving her pink roses for my birthday
because pink is my favorite color of rose
and that made the giving about both of us...
the first year that she was gone from this Life my birthday was really, really sad...
i took pink roses to the cemetery and told both of my parents
thank you for being my mom and dad...
and i've done the same every year since...
anywho...
a year ago i decided to make myself a quilt of pink roses for my next birthday...
i bought yards and yards of blue-with-pink-dots batik fabric
and searched the stash for pinks and pinks and more pinks ... and bought a yard of every pink Fairy Frost that i could find on line and in quilt shops...
Auntia asked me, "When are you ever gonna use that?!?"
and now i have an answer
piecing the 64 roses took all summer...
and piecing them together was another couple of weeks ... it would have taken a lot less time if i had noticed that some of those roses weren't pointing in the right direction BEFORE i sewed all the rows together...
then i bought more yards and yards of pink Lakehouse hydrangea petals to piece the backing ... and sent it off to Liz for quilting with thorny roses...
and trimmed it...
and bound it...
all together now...
8 roses wide by 8 roses long, with one...
on the back so i could write a message from me to me...
all that planning and spending and piecing and quilting (thank you, Liz, for not giving up on the Great Pink Thing) and binding and being absolutely CERTAIN that it was gonna look way cool once it was on my bed was followed by
what the?!? what is wrong?!? why don't i lurve it?!?
and then i remembered...
okay, that's better...
All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his.
Oscar Wilde
How creative is that --- to make roses from flamingos! Flamingos aside that is one gorgeous quilt! I'd have balked in a big way at the gazillion small pieces but you obviously don't scare easily! Well done!
ReplyDeleteLove the mom's birday roses story and LOVE the Oscar Wilde quote!
ReplyDeleteAwe, I know you miss your mama. I hope the amazingly, stunning quilt makes you feel better. Plus you have super cool and amazing friends that try (although don't always hit the mark) to make your days special like you are. This quilt is drop dead gorgeous!!!
ReplyDeleteI love your bed of roses. They are lovely, as is your mama story. What a special way to celebrate your birthday!
ReplyDeleteMy mom was a florist, and she loves roses (Mary and Theresa are her saints...) I'm planning a rose quilt for her 81st in June, not near as complex as yours, in salmon pink. With Mary and Theresa on the back.