I came from a long line of pickers. We just can't resist. When we see something 'good' alongside the road we just have to rescue it from oblivion. I remember walking to elementary school and crying over the good things sticking out of the trash cans on garbage day. My dad had a big ole' pickup truck and brought home chair sets and outboard motors, bicycles and lawn mowers, and trunks. He would fix them up and sell them in a garage sale, not to make a little money, but for the fun of it.
Dad picked up a trunk and when he got it home found a quilt inside. He gave the quilt to me.
It is a Carolina Lily pattern. The stitching is primitive, so is the quilting. But it has an exuberance and joy.
I shared it recently on Facebook and a collector asked to buy it. She believes it is a Southern quilt. And yesterday I shipped it. One more quilt out of the closet.
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