I recently acquired 16lbs of fabric, which I've taken to calling "mom fabric". It's all fabric my mom either used to make something or had plans for something. Dad very kindly gave it to me last week. I was fine, going through it, until I found a piece of red and white striped brushed cotton with little bits of green on it. Mom had used similar fabric years ago to make herself a Christmas Eve/Christmas Day jumper. The fabric I found was what she used to make a matching jumper for her favorite Granddaughter, Juniper. For 3 Christmases, they had matching dresses. When I found that fabric, I started to cry.

This week, I've been giving a great deal of thought to future quilts I might make, using mom fabric, to give to my dad, my brothers, and my niece. Juniper is not quite 5, so she's never going to have any solid memories of fun times with Grandma. Suddenly that bit of red and white fabric jumped into my memory, and I pictured a block of solid fabric with that fabric cut out and topstitched in place, in the shape of a jumper. That led to the thought of a block with a sewing machine on it, because Grandma once showed her how to sew. And that led to a block with a camera on it, because Juniper once utilized my tripod and camera - at the age of almost 3 - to take pictures of her and Grandma together. Which reminded me of that trip in general to the beautiful Circle A Ranch in NewMexico, which had me designing a block depicting the house where we stayed. Which led me to...

Suddenly I was designing blocks. ME! The non-artist in the family. No, seriously, can't draw a stick figure. And it's all going to be appliqued and I can see it all so clearly in my head and figuring out ways to pull it off, and making a little book with stories and pictures to go with it so she can remember

and it was kind of overwhelming. I felt my forehead to see if I was feverish. Because obviously I've come down with something. Is it terminal? Is it contagious? Someone, please, tell me what this means!