something to dream under

Here's a different take on the traditional wedding quilt. 

When my parents ran off and eloped, my great-grandmother, Ana, made them a beautiful quilt with a large star in the middle of it. I can still remember its pastel patches stretched out across my parents' water bed. 

Unfortunately, neither the water bed nor the quilt made it into the twenty-first century. The water bed sprang several leaks in 1989, and around that same time the quilt fell to tatters from too much washing and use. 

There's a certain magic about handmade blankets. 

The ones that are lovingly constructed and gifted at important events carry an aura of security and comfort. I don't know exactly what it is, all I can tell you is: I remember that star quilt, vividly. 

I can especially remember the way the colors in the fabric glowed when we used it for the roof of our childhood forts. To my imagination it was the plush drape of a desert queen's caravan tent - camels spitting in the sand included!

I'm not surprised that when it came time for us to make something special for my sister and her soon-to-be husband I insisted that it be a blanket and gravitated toward vibrant colors and patterns. 

I know my sister loved this blanket when we gave it to her this past Sunday. We somehow managed to make it under her radar - she was completely shocked and surprised. (Here, I've been dragging the thing all over town for the last month!)

Phew, I'm glad its finished, and I hope she invites me over one Sunday afternoon, when all of the chaos and joy of her wedding is over. 

Perhaps we'll open a bottle of wine and build ourselves a fort. I can't wait to stretch out on the floor and enjoy the way the sun illuminates the rainbow of colors knit into this blanket. It'll be better than all the stained glass in all of the cathedrals in France!