Every so often some blocks come along in our sewing that makes us look at them and say well... "Come with me... your bed is under the counter. You don't mind sleeping among the scraps, I suppose? But it doesn't much matter, for you can't sleep anywhere else." Such is the influence which the condition of our own thoughts, exercise, even over the appearance of external objects.
But sometimes to do a great right you have to do a little wrong; and you may take any measurements which the end to be attained is quilted. And joyous will be the poor little orphans once crooked in their ways or ugly in their countenance; given new life in a quilt dedicated to them. Meanwhile let the tears which fell, and the broken blocks which laid under the counter in long close embrace between orphans be sacred.
Okay perhaps a bit of a dramatic way of saying "Hey we raided my orphanage of quilt blocks and this is what we came up with whatcha think?" 🤣
20220427_144224.jpg
But sometimes to do a great right you have to do a little wrong; and you may take any measurements which the end to be attained is quilted. And joyous will be the poor little orphans once crooked in their ways or ugly in their countenance; given new life in a quilt dedicated to them. Meanwhile let the tears which fell, and the broken blocks which laid under the counter in long close embrace between orphans be sacred.
Okay perhaps a bit of a dramatic way of saying "Hey we raided my orphanage of quilt blocks and this is what we came up with whatcha think?" 🤣
20220427_144224.jpg
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