CURIOUS QUILTS
Almost undetectable in the summer foliage was a little sign with handwritten black letters that said QUILTS. I always passed the sign with curiosity. The one end of the sign was cut into a ‘V’ pointing towards a white farmhouse with an enclosed porch and a few smaller buildings surrounding it. Vegetable gardens and fruit trees filled the yard but nothing was weeded or tidy. A gate stood between some bushes near a chicken coop but there was no sidewalk to the house.
Searching for an entrance, I pulled my car into the lane behind a parked black buggy. Suddenly, a woman peeked from behind the cart. Her bright, big eyes glared at me with a hint of confusion. When I asked about the quilts she smiled and said she would show them to me but first she had to get the lettuce. Carrying four plastic bags brimming full of fresh garden lettuce, she carved out a trail. Following her path through high grass, past thorny raspberry bushes, I came to what seemed to be a summer kitchen. Mint green walls with creamy yellow trim covered the space like a worn-out quilt. The room was dark and plain.
On the freezer (or the locker as she called it) was a stack of brightly colored handmade quilts. She was excited to show them. I rummaged through the pile enough to see the beautiful patterns and check prices. She introduced herself as Katie and fumbled around to find a business card. I asked if she would finish a small quilt my mother-in-law started. “Well maybe during the winter I could to do that” she cheerfully replied. With this in mind I will be visiting Katie again.
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