February and March are big birthday months around here, each weekend with its crop of birthday parties. I’ve made a quiet commitment that whenever possible, I will make, and not buy, the birthday present. It surprised me that it took the same amount of time (45 minutes, or so) for me to make this doll quilt, as it would have taken for me to hike over to the toy store and buy a present. And for this particular weekend’s worth of birthdays, I had a helper. Miss C. made the little purse shown above. She designed it herself and put in many, many pockets. She needed a little help with some decorative stitching but most she did herself! Hurray for intrepid 6-year-olds!
C.’s doll Marabelle helped me by trying out the other present we made — a doll quilt patterned on my childhood doll quilt. In the picture below, mine is on the left and the gift one is on the right.
A very special person made me that quilt, one of those people I think of so often, but never really get to see anymore. It’s hard to pin down the source of my interest in crafty goodness, but Sheila Sherow was definitely one of the instigators in this lifelong love. She made so many lovely things and always had us working on a project, whenever we were at her house as kids.
This doll blanket is one of those treasured possessions that I’ve kept with me since I was little. That says alot, since as a military kid I moved literally dozens of times. I think it’s so true what Sugar City was saying around Valentine’s Day, that handmade makes it so special. If someone made it for you by hand, you’ll mend it, patch it, but never casually toss it away. This blanket is such a good reminder for me of the wonderful things that have been constant in my life, even as my surroundings have changed. As I mentioned yesterday, thinking about moving gets me so sad. I don’t want to leave our home, but when I look at this little brightly-colored blanket, I realize how many wonderful memories I have that are not a result of where in the world I was, but who I was with, my friends, my family and now my wonderful husband and children.
So I’m grateful to this blanket and to its creator, for reminding me that home is where your heart is. Or as Kelly put it so well in her post of a few days ago, Home is Where We Live, wherever that might be.