A woman posted a quilt rack on social media. The price was low, so I said I would buy it. It was, however still in the box, so assembly was part of the reason for the bargain. I took the parts out and set them on the table just before I went up to bed. My thoughts wandered to the shoemaker, who laid out pieces on his work bench to begin the next day. 

 

It turns out that elves visit my house too. In the morning the quilt stand was built, standing proudly with three of my latest quilts across the bars. 

 

It's lovely. 

 

I have read that good things happen while we sleep. It is a time for God to unobtrusively untangle the angst of our days, which is why some mornings I find that solutions are clearer than they were the night before. 

 

I cannot speak for where you might live, but in Pennsylvania quilts are once again coming into their stride. The evening chill is such that it's nice to tug one up to my neck, and when I come downstairs at daybreak I pull one on my lap. The seasons give credibility to my penchant for sewing them even in the dog days of August. In fact there will be another Craft Crawl this weekend where a dozen vendors around town will sell their handwork from their yards. I wonder how many of my quilts will be adopted. 

 

The notion that these Irish Chains and Snails Trails will protect people from the cold this winter brings me joy. I don't think I qualify as an elf, in that I cannot seem to stay up later than anyone else. But I do manage to work when they are looking the other way.