A Community of Quilts An Old Fashioned Church Pew Show

The Clawson United Methodist Church in Clawson, Michigan is holding the Community of Quilts, an Old Fashioned Church Pew show this weekend. Around 200 quilts are displayed on pews in the sanctuary and chapel.

Quilts of every kind! Quilts made by grandmothers in the last century and new Modern quilts.

Pieced quilts, appliqued quilts, embroidered quilts!

Many were machine quilted by Barb Lusk, whose medallion quilt with an eagle center is seen below. Barb is a church member and organizer of the show.

Many of my local quilts friends contributed to the show.

I contributed two quilts. One was the Biblical Block Sampler, seen below in cranberry and green. It was made by the Hillsdale Quilters--the gals I learned to quilt from-- and gifted to my husband in 1998.

The embroidered yellow roses quilt was made by my weekly quilt group friend's mother.

The other quilt I contributed was the Japanese Kimono girls. The blocks were made by the Hillsdale Quilters and given to me. I set them in this quilt and hand quilted it with traditional Sashiko patterns.

 There were Halloween quilts and witch quilts.

A display from the Remember Me Quilt Project included quilts made to remember victims of gun violence.

 There is also vendors selling their handcrafted goods.

Are You a Sampler Addict? Pat Sloan is Back with The Splendid Sampler 2

Over 28,000 quilters joined the online Splendid Sampler group. Now Pat Sloan and Jane Davidson return with 100 all-new block patterns to inspire quilters all over the world, all over again! from the publisher

Can you resist these sweet treat 6" blocks? The joy and exuberance in the blocks reflect the designers: they were asked to create a block in their 'signature style' to answer the question "I'm living my best quilting life when.."

New blocks from Lissa Alexander, Carrie Nelson, Jenny Doan, Susan Ache, Betsy Chutchian, Rob Appell, and others (see the complete list here) include all styles: patchwork, applique, embroidery, paper piecing. Along with great instructions the blocks are shown in alternate colorways.

Pat herself designed Radio Waves block to represent the "email that changed my life" when she was asked to host an Internet radio show about quilting. Jane Davidson created First Aid to represent patching up beloved quilts worn from too much love.

The late Nancy Zieman contributed Nancy's Spool in memory of her annual quilting getaways with dear friends. Lissa Alexander's block Big Sun was made during Hurricane Harvey, "I remember wishing that a Big Sun would come and dry up all the rain."

Other blocks show a love a gardening and flowers, the wonders of cities and majestic mountains and starry nights and the seaside, antique needlework and the women who made them, a love of reading, childhood memories, pets and friendship and family and faith. And of course, a love of sewing quilts!

I received a free ebook from the publisher in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

Learn more about The Splendid Sampler 2 at
https://www.shopmartingale.com/the-splendid-sampler-2.html

Splendid Sampler 2
by Pat Sloan and Jane Davidson
Martingale
$28.99
144 pages
publication October 1, 2018
ISBN: 9781604689525

Learn more Splendid Sampler (I) at
https://www.shopmartingale.com/the-splendid-sampler.html

Join Pat's Facebook Group:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/QuiltWithPatSloan/
Tutorials are available online at The Splendid Sampler.

Virgil Wander by Leif Enger

Virgil Wander by Leif Enger is a lovely, quiet story on the surface, featuring quirky small-town folk who carry on in spite of heavy baggage. If you let yourself flow along with the gentle story, you will be caught up in the wind current of change and impending disaster to a satisfying conclusion. Have a little faith in these characters, and they will greatly reward you.

Greenstone, MN sits on the great inland sea of Lake Superior. Its glory days are behind it; the Taconic mine that built it looms over the shoreline, ruining the view with its reminder of what has been lost. The town's once famous ballplayer, whose uncontrollable wild pitch was both his boon and his burden, disappeared in a plane over the lake ten years ago. It seems like hard times haunts the town.

Virgil Wander operates the small theater. His car went through a railing into the lake. He should have died, except a beachcomber rescued him. Virgil is given a new lease on life. As recovers his equilibrium, adjectives, and strength he considers his future. Virgil is a good man. He holds an unrequited love for a woman, befriends her son, takes care of people in need.

Greenstone is undergoing a sea change. A local man is drowned while fishing for a legendary monster sturgeon. A kite flying Norwegian arrives, looking for information about the son he never knew he had. The town founder's son returns, his sheen of charm and panache a thin veil over a flinty heart. The town struggles to find a way to celebrate itself at its annual festival, finally embracing its heritage in Hard Luck Days.

I enjoyed reading this novel at a leisurely pace...until I could not put it down and gulped the last of it down in one sitting, staying up late into the night.

The name of Virgil's town, Greenstone intrigued me.

Greenstone is the state gem of Michigan, found along Lake Superior. It is a mineral found in basalt, a volcanic rock. The Ely greenstone found in Minnesota is basalt that has been metamorphized; that is, volcanic rock which under pressure has been changed into a new form.  Read more here.

Virgil's town of Greenstone is troubled by great disasters, economic and personal, and has been crushed and pummeled. But it survives and is reborn in a new form. This hopeful novel reminds us that suffering and loss is not the end of the story. We can, and do, survive the sea-change of near-death. And are reborn to a different life that may be as good or better than what we had known.

I received a free ARC from Bookish in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

Virgil Wander
Leif Enger
Atlantic Monthly Press
Publication October 2, 2018
$27.00 hardcover
ISBN 978-0-0821-2878-2
eISBN 978-0-8021-4668-7

Farewell, Summer by Ray Bradbury

"Farewell, Summer. Here it is. October 1st. Temperature's 82. Season just won't let go. The leaves won't turn." from Farewell, Summer by Ray Bradbury

I read Farewell Summer on the last day of summer. 

My electric company had sent me a warning email that my bill would be twice as high as last month's. We had been running the air conditioner for weeks because of the high humidity and 90-degree weather, accompanied by thunderstorms. The bees were visiting the Sedum Autumn Joy since most of the other flowers had gone, except the roses which are still blooming their hearts out.

But a few days later as I write this post the change has come. We expect our first frost. The apple tree has some yellowing leaves. I left my window open last night but pulled my quilt up to my chin. The house was chilled this morning. Farewell, Summer.

If only life were only about the changing of the seasons, but with the change comes the recognition that life is moving on, the months are ticking off another year. I am growing old. I tried to hang onto youth, like Doug and Tom in Bradbury's fictional Illinois town, resentful and obstinate, sure I would never grow old. I would die first. Instead, I turned sixteen and suddenly I was married and then I was old.

A sequel to Dandelion Wine, written 55 years later, Bradbury returns to childhood's grappling with the awareness that comes after age nine, the knowledge that we grow old and die. Doug and Tom go to war with the old men. They think they know how the old men control the boys' destiny so they become men. Steal the chess pieces! Break the clock! 

Couched in the language of war, the last chapter is Appomatix. Mr. Quartermain, the old man who resented the boys, and Doug who waged war on the old men sit down together. 

"What is it you want to know?" Quartermain asks Doug.

"Everything," said Douglas. 
"Everything?" Quartermain laughed gently. "That'll take at least ten minutes."
"How about something?" asked Douglas finally.
"Something? One special thing? Why, Doug, that will take a lifetime. I've been at it a while. Everything rolls off my tongue, easy as pie. But something! Something! I get lockjaw just trying to define it. So let's talk about everything instead, for now."

I was so blown away by the writing, the word choice, the insights, I could have highlighted pages of favorites sentences. For #SundaySentence hosted on Twitter by author and 'book evangelist' David Abrams, I shared this lovely quote:

Grandpa's library was a fine dark place bricked with books, so anything could happen there and always did. All you had to do was pull a book from the shelf and open it and suddenly the darkness was not so dark anymore.

Last year I read Dandelion Wine with book club, my first reading since I was a teenager. Then I reread Something Wicked This Way Comes, which I also last read as a teenager.

Frankly, I could easily make it a habit every year of reading Dandelion Wine and Farewell, Summer both on the Autumn Equinox. The older I get, the more I have to learn from children.

The Man Who Walked Backward: An American Dreamer's Search for Meaning in the Great Depression

Plennie Lawrence Wingo is not a household name, although he went to great lengths endeavoring to achieve fame.

A string of bad luck had hit Plennie, thanks to the Depression. Nearly penniless, he hit on an idea. People were doing all kinds of crazy things to break records in a quest for fame. With fame comes money. It seemed as if everything that could be done had been done. Except...no one had walked around the world backward.

Plennie became obsessed. Every day for six months he practiced walking backward. He bought a map and sunglasses with mirrors to see behind him. He was given a cane. He put on his steel heeled shoes and a suit and tucked a notebook in his pocket, and in 1931 he left Texas, walking backward down Main Street on his way toward Dallas. He had picture postcards of himself to sell for income and hoped to find a commercial sponsor.

The Man Who Walked Backward by Ben Montgomery is Plennie's story, which is entertaining and interesting. He meets with great generosity and falls victim to scammers. He is a dreamer and a go-getter, fated to hit brick walls. He is harassed by cops and jailed in a foreign land. An affable man, he made friends who offered him shelter and meals and sometimes cash.

As readers travel with Plennie, we experience the misery and poverty of the Depression. We learn the story of America's growth through the history of the places he passed through, and how we used up and destroyed our vast riches.

Famous events and people are mentioned: the destruction of the buffalo as part of Native American genocide; the destruction of the prairie; towns that boom and bust; lynching and the Klan; Bonnie and Clyde and Al Capone; the kidnapping of Charles Lindberg's baby; the rise of Hoovervilles and the Dust Bowl; the growth of the beer industry and Prohibition.

And we travel with Plennie to Germany to experience the rise of Hitler, and across Europe to Turkey. It is unsettling how 1931 America is so familiar: ecological disaster, the destruction of the working class, the rise of a man who knew how to work the crowd, "tailoring his speeches to his audiences" and promising to make Germany great again. "People loved him. those who didn't were scared of those who did."

I found the book fascinating.

I received a free ebook from the publisher in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

THE MAN WHO WALKED BACKWARD: An American Dreamer's Search for Meaning in the Great Depression
Little, Brown Spark
by Ben Montgomery
On Sale: September 18, 2018
Price: $14.99 / $18.99 (CDN)
ISBN-13: 9780316438049

WWI Sheet Music: Memories of France

My collection of vintage sheet music from a hundred years ago includes many songs written about WWI. Today I am sharing songs set in France--in particular songs about women. It is hard to consider the horrors of war that lurks behind these sentimental songs.

Memories of France by Al Dubin and J. Russet Robinson, 1928 has this dedication: 

"To our pals in the American Legion 

We dedicate this refrain

If it makes but one of you  happy

It was not written in vain."

Listen to it here.

Like a lot of little bubbles
I can blow away my troubles
Dreaming of my romance

With a pretty little daughter
Of a land across the water
I dream that I'm back in France

Someone whispers to me
"I love you, my cherie"
In my memories of France

And we stroll once again
By the old River Seine
In my memories of France

And I see her still placing roses
Where many an old pal reposes
And we laugh and we cry
Then a kiss, then goodbye
In my memories of France

And I see her still placing roses
Where many an old pal reposes
And we laugh and we cry
Then a kiss, then goodbye
In my memories of France

The back cover of the sheet music features this Recitation:

The war has long been forgotten,

And it's best that we should forget,--

It's an old story now, but still, somehow,

There are dreams that linger yet.

It's not the dream of the battle

And it's not the shot and the shell,--

It's the mem'ry of a doughboy in love

And a sweet little Mademoiselle,

You can blot out the mem'ry of bullets

When the years roll by like this,

But you can't erase a beautiful face

And the mem'ry of a kiss.

You ca even forgive the enemy,--

Forgive them as time goes by,

But a long as you live you'll enver forgive

Yourself,--For saying goodboye.

Maybe she was'nt your sweetheart,--

You considered her only a toy,

But when God made her kind, He had in mind

A homesick soldier boy:

She would laugh, she would cry,

Then a kiss, then "goodbye,"

In my memories of France.

***

Somewhere in France is the Lily by Jos. E. Howard and Philander Johnson, 1917, sung by Howard, has a fantastic cover by Starmer. The image of the French 'lily' is central, but the bombs bursting in air and men in trenches remind this is a war song. Listen to Henry Burr sing it here. It has a definite martial sound.

One day as morning shed its glow 
Across the eastern sky 
A boy and girl in accents low in a garden said “Goodbye!” 
She said “Remember as you stray, 
When each must do his share,
The flowers blooming here today 
Are emblems over there!”

[Refrain] 
Somewhere in France is the Lily, 
Close by the English Rose; 
Somewhere in France is a sweetheart, 
Facing the battle’s chance, 
For the flow’r of our youth fights for freedom and truth
Somewhere in France

Each morning in that garden fair, 
Where sweetest perfumes dwell, 
The lassie whispers low a pray’r 
For the flowr’s she loves so well. 
And over there as night draws near,
Amid the shot and flame, 
Unto the flag he holds so dear,
A soldier breathes her name.
[Refrain]

***

Not all the women that soldiers met in France were love interests.

Written as a tribute to the Red Cross nurses, Rose of No Man's Land by Jack Caddigan and James A. Brennan, 1917, features an illustration is of a Red Cross nurse looking into a ray of light. This Patriotic War Edition that was printed on smaller paper to help the war effort. Hear it sung by Henty Burr here along with WWI photos.

I've seen some beautiful flowers
Grow in life's garden fair
I've spent some wonderful hours
Lost in their fragrance rare
But I have found another
Wondrous beyond compare....

There's a rose that grows in no-man's land
And it's wonderful to see
Though its sprayed with tears, it will live for years
In my garden of memory

It's the one red rose the soldier knows
It's the work of the Master's hand
'Neath the War's great curse stands a Red Cross nurse
She's the rose of no-man's land

Out in the heavenly splendor 
Down to the trail of woe
God in his mercy has sent her
Fearing the World below
We call her Rose of Heaven
We've longed to love her so....

There's a rose that grows in no-man's land
And it's wonderful to see
Though its sprayed with tears, it will live for years
In my garden of memory

It's the one red rose the soldier knows
It's the work of the Master's hand
'Neath the War's great curse stands a Red Cross nurse
She's the rose of no-man's land

***

And He'd Say "Oo-La-La Wee-Wee" by Harry Ruby and George Jessell, 1919, has a marvelous cover illustration by Barbelle. This is a comedy song.  Hear it sung by Billy Murray here.

Willie Earl met a sweet young girl one day in France,

Her naughty little glance, put Willie in a trance; 

Willie Earl couldn't understand her talk you see,

He only knew two words in French

That he learned in the trench,

They were "oo-la-la" and "wee-wee."

They would spoon beneath the moon above

It was fun to hear them making love.

Chorus

She'd say "compronay voo, papa?"

and he'd say "oo-la-la! wee-wee"

She'd smile and whisper "mercy bacoo"

He'd answer "I don't mind if I do"

She'd say if you be my papa" then I will be your macherie

She'd pinch his cheek and say "you keskasay:

He'd say "Not now, dear, but later I may;"

Then she'd say "compronay voo, papa?"

and he'd say "oo-la-la! wee-wee."

Willie Earl said, "this little girl is meant for me,

No more I'll cross to the sea,

I'll stay in Gay Paree.

Ev'ry day you would hear him say to his babee,

"Your talk I do not know, but I,

Will manage to get by, with my "oo-la-la" and "wee-wee"

Ev'ry ev'ning Willie would rehearse

Instead of getting better he got worse

She'd say "compronay voo, papa?" 

and he'd say "oo-la-la! wee-wee"

She'd say "come see" and then roll her eyes,

He'd answer, "baby you'd be surprised."

Each ev'ning they would promenade,

upon zeboulevarde you see;

One day at lunch she said "cafe voola" 

He said "my dear, don't forget where you are;" 

Then she'd say "compronay voo, papa?" 

and he'd say "oo-la-la! wee-wee."

***

Oh! Frenchy by Sam Ehrlich and Con Conrad, 1918, illustrated by EE Walton, switches the love story around. A nurse falls in love with a French soldier because of his accent.

Rosie Green was a village queen, 
Who enlisted as a nurse 
She waited for a chance 
And left for France with an Ambulance, 
Rosie Green met a chap named 
Jean, a soldier from Paree, 
When he said, “Parlevous my pet” 
She said, “I will but not just yet,” 
When he’d speak in French to her, 
She’d answer lovingly, “Oh!”

Chorus
Frenchy, Oh Frenchy, Frenchy, 
Although your language is so new to me, 
When you say, “Oui oiu, la la” 
“We” means you and me, la la- 
Oh! Frenchy, Oh Frenchy, Frenchy, 
You’ve won my love with your bravery, 
March on, March on, with any girl you see, 
But when you la la la la la, 
Oh, Frenchy save you la la la’s for me. 
Oh! me

Rosie Green married Soldier Jean when his furlough time arrived, 
She said, “Go pack your grip 
We’ll take a trip on a big steam ship,” 
Rosie Green took her soldier Jean down home somewhere in Maine, 
They say her rural Pa and Ma, 
Refused to do that oo la la, 
But when she’s alone with him you’ll hear the same refrain, 
Oh! (chorus)

 ***

Joan of Arc represented national pride to the French soldiers who carried her image into battle.

Joan of Arc They Are Calling You by Alfred Bryan, Willie Weston, and Jack Wells, illustrated by Barbelle, calls on the Maid of Orleans to harken to her country in her time of need. The lyrics are in English and French. Hear Henry Burr sing it here.

While you are sleeping, 
Your France is weeping,
Wake from your dreams, Maid of France.
Her heart is bleeding;
Are you unheeding?
Come with the flame in your glance;
Through the Gates of Heaven, with your sword in hand,
Come your legions to command.

CHORUS
Joan of Arc, Joan of Arc,
Do your eyes, from the skies, see the foe?
Don't you see the drooping Fleurdelis?
Can't you hear the tears of Normandy?
Joan of Arc, Joan of Arc,
Let your spirit guide us through;
Come lead your France to victory;
Joan of Arc, they are calling you. Joan of you.

Alsace is sighing,
Lorraine is crying,
Their mother, France, looks to you.
Her sons at Verdun;
Bearing the burden,
Pray for your coming anew;
At the Gates of Heaven, do they bar your way?
Souls that passed through yesterday.

Burial Rites by Hannah Kent

Burial Rites by Hannah Kent was my book club's September book. We had a great hour-long discussion.

I immensely enjoyed the book. Set in 1829-1830 in Iceland, I felt transported to a distant land where nothing was familiar. Windows held fishskin panes and women gathered moss to boil, the names were unpronounceable and exotic, the landscape gray and harsh. Kent's attention to detail permeated the novel. 

Historical documents offered the skeleton upon which Kent imagined her story of the last execution in Iceland in 1830. After Agnes was convicted of murdering her lover, she spent time jailed in a dark cell. When she is released, she is transported to a distant and inhospitable area to be housed with a family while waiting out her time. Agnes is unwanted and feared, treated like a servant. A priest is sent to help her repent and save her soul. He elicits her story, a heartbreaking tale of neglect, poverty, and abuse. In reaching for love, Agnes is betrayed, but she did not murder her love for revenge. 

We do stereotype people and draw away and judge people. But when we hear their stories we can have compassion and understanding. The family that housed Agnes undergo that transformation and it is marvelous to watch.

Agnes and her mother and other servants in the story are powerless pawns in the hands of their male employers. Their alternative is to be unsheltered and unfed in the cruel ice and snow. For all its otherworldliness in time and space, Agnes's story is all too familiar: A neglected and abandoned child is lured by the prospect of love into an abusive relationship.

When I read Kent's second book The Good People, which I very much enjoyed, I read many reviewers who raved over Burial Rites. Read my review of The Good People here.

from the publisher:

Inspired by a true story, Hannah Kent’s Burial Rites was shortlisted for The Baileys Women’s Prize for Fiction, The Guardian First Book Award and The International IMPAC Dublin Literary Awards.

In northern Iceland, 1829, Agnes Magnúsdóttir is condemned to death for her part in the brutal murder of her lover.

Agnes is sent to wait out her final months on the farm of district officer Jón Jónsson, his wife and their two daughters. Horrified to have a convicted murderer in their midst, the family avoid contact with Agnes. Only Tóti, the young assistant priest appointed Agnes’s spiritual guardian, is compelled to try to understand her. As the year progresses and the hardships of rural life force the household to work side by side, Agnes’s story begins to emerge and with it the family’s terrible realization that all is not as they had assumed. And as the days to her execution draw closer, the question burns: did she or didn't she?

Based on actual events, Burial Rites is a moving novel about the truths we claim to know and the ways in which we interpret what we’re told. In beautiful, cut-glass prose, Hannah Kent portrays Iceland’s formidable landscape, in which every day is a battle for survival, and asks, how can one woman hope to endure when her life depends upon the stories told by others?

See photos of Iceland and learn about the upcoming movie here.