Lately I have made quilts that use only one fabric for most of the top. They are called One Block Wonders and I am learning how to chose the prints. Many simply will not do. They have a tiny motif, or broad spaces of background color. In the last month I have cranked out two of leaf patterns, one of birds, another of African animals and the
most recent one of blue geometric shapes. The last one will always remind me of this frozen winter.
I find that the finished quilt is tenfold more gorgeous than the original fabric, not to insult
Alexander Henry or
Hoffman. There is something innately pleasing about repetition, whether it's a zebra's hide, or a
maple leaf prong. Perhaps there is a scientific reason why most of us are drawn to kaleidoscopic hexagons. I can't explain it. But the beauty of a snowflake is hard to overstate.
One of the realities of marriage is repetition. I just brought up John's laundry and folded the shirts. Again. Could I even approximate how many times I have performed that small task over thirty odd years? More than six. I would be hard pressed to think of a duty
I have
completed in the last year that was a solitary event. Decorating for Christmas, emptying the dishwasher, sweeping the entryway, scrambling eggs are all links in the chain of Odhner doings and they show up as reliably as spring rain.
In isolation, they are perhaps less than lovely. Take a few cups and bowls out of the racks and set them on the shelf? Yawn. But when I step back far enough to see the pattern of daily service it twirls like a pattern that makes me
smile.
