Finished: My 1st Gee's Bend Quilt!

Over the years, I've written about how much I've come to admire the Amazing Quilters of Gee's Bend, Alabama who began teaching at Fiber College of Maine in 2014. If you don't know their story, you may want to click here before you continue reading this post.

Three years later, at Fiber College in  2017, I was lucky enough to take a quilting class with "Miss China" and "Miss Stella". What a thrill it was to meet them and learn from them, in some cases hand over hand.

We began by choosing fabrics and colors we liked from a big pile that had been donated. In addition, I brought some of my favorite old camping t-shirts to consider adding to my quilt. You see, Gee's Bend quilting is free-form and relies on the concept of creating beauty with what you have.

This is a craft passed down from mother to daughter since slave times at Gee's Bend, People needed these quilts to simply survive the winter; now they are created as works of fiber art and exhibited in most of the major Art museums in America.

When quilting Gee's Bend Style, fabric is torn rather than cut (slaves did not have scissors and fancy quilting rulers) and designs are created by laying out the fabric on the grass and moving the pieces around until they please the eye.

You begin in the center and keep adding pieces until you have finished the quilt top.

Here is Miss Stella holding up my first completed quilt section. She really helped me to "let go" and let the fabric speak to me as I went along.

Two weeks ago, almost two years after I started quilting with Miss Stella, I felt compelled to finish my quilt. I do well with deadlines and decided I want to use it to keep us warm on our first camping trip of 2019, which begins March 9th. (It's still COLD here in March!) I think  the new Gee's Bend quilt will be a colorful addition to our little Casita, even though it will mean sewing new camper curtains to go with it!

Since Fiber College takes places at Searsport Shores Oceanfront Campground in Searsport,Maine . . .  

I added a square from one of my Searsport t-shirts.

And here's a square (Note: none of these are literally "square") from another campground we enjoy, South Arm, in a remote part of Maine's Rangeley Lakes region.

And a square (Dia de los Muertos) from Arizona as well as a very special one signed by Miss China.

 I have a signed block from Miss Stella too!

Most of the fabrics for this quilt came from clothing I got at Salvation Army and cut up (Gee's Bend style; no expensive quilt shop involved here), especially jeans. I decided to keep some of the pockets . . .

they'll be handy for cell phones and tissues at night!

These squares came from t-shirts I made for the very first camping trip we ever took to Searsport Shores.  I had a t@b camper back then and it was the first time I'd taken it out without DH; my sister Nancy and I went by ourselves (with plenty of steak for her and wine for me!) on a "Girls' Weekend".

These old t-shirts mean the world to me now as Nancy passed away from ovarian cancer in 2010.

Here's a link to her story . . .

I lined the current quilt in fleece for warmth - camper motif, of course!

And then embroidered and tied the layers of the "quilt sandwich" together.

I enjoy this part!

The turquoise "camper" fabric in this square will be the fabric for the new Casita curtains.

We leave on our trip on Saturday and the quilt is DONE, just in time. We'll be headed to Virginia, Florida, South Carolina and Tennessee, hoping to catch up with friends and chase the Spring weather.
The laptop and Jetpack are already packed so that I can blog our adventures from the road.

 Can't wait!

A Happy Camper (and Quilter!),

This post is linked to:
Link Party #129 at Chas' Crazy Creations
Vintage Charm #172 at My Thrift Store Addiction
Talk of the Town #164 at Knick of Time
Wednesday Aim Link Party 32 at Grammy's Grid
Homestyle Gathering #8 at My Wee Abode
Thursday Favorite Things at The Yellow Brick Home
Flaunt It Friday #438 at Chic on a Shoestring
Farmhouse Friday Link Party #96 at The Painted Hinge

Upta Camp

We recently returned from our annual week "Upta Camp" on Lower Richardson Lake in western Maine's Rangeley Lakes area.

Our Casita is small but has everything we need.
 

This was our 4th year at South Arm Campground, which is so remote that there are no cell phone or wifi services. In fact, to get to the campground, you either have to drive 12 miles down a bumpy dirt road from the tiny town of Andover, Maine,  or take a boat or seaplane in.

 

 

Our favorite part of camping is the people we meet and South Arm is no exception. The same families camp there the same week of every year and we've made close friends who we look forward to spending time with every summer. Our little group makes for some interesting campfire stories . . . there are teachers, bankers, a carpenter, a nurse, a surgeon, a commercial pilot . . . and us!

 

There are three sisters who camp near us each year with their husbands . . . we love being a part of their summer family for one special week every year.

Meet Laurie . . .

 

 

Teresa (on the left, with Laurie) . . .

 

and Rosalie.

 

Rosalie travels all over the country by herself in her "little" camper. Since her husband is a pilot, he meets up with her whenever he can, wherever she happens to be.

I think she's so brave! 

 

This year Rosalie, Hank and I decided NOT to go on the Sunset Cruise. If you missed my blog post about our narrow escape last summer, you can read it here.

 

Just to put our decision into better perspective, here's what Rosalie and I looked like when we "made landfall" after the boat ride from hell sunset cruise last year. Glad they added the "weather permitting" part this year!
 

We're lucky to meet such wonderful people wherever we go. In another week, we'll be off again . . . this time to Searsport Shores, our favorite campground on the coast of Maine and another place where we've made some amazing friends.

Looking forward to going back "upta camp" (a noun here in Maine) soon,

 

Escape from the S.S. Minnow

Just sit right back

And you'll hear a tale

A tale of a fateful trip,

That started from this tropic port,

Aboard this tiny ship.

 

The "tropic port" was the South Arm of Richardson Lake in the Rangeley Lakes region of Maine. The "tiny ship" was a very safe looking pontoon boat. The month was July 2013.

The mate was a mighty sailin' man,

The Skipper brave and sure,

Five passengers set sail that day,

For a three hour tour,

A three hour tour.



Our Captain

 

Among the passengers who set sail that day were my husband, Hank, and I, our friend, Rosalie, and eight or nine other unsuspecting South Arm campers. Our skipper was definitely brave and sure; he had been born in Andover, Maine and grown up on the lakes. We were off on an evening tour of the lake and its two dams.  The sun was out and the sky was clear; a perfect night for a 17 mile boat ride.



Our friend, Rosalie

The weather started getting rough,

The tiny ship was tossed.

If not for the courage of the fearless crew

The Minnow would be lost.

The Minnow would be lost.

We had just left Middle Dam when the sky got eerily dark...



 

Before we knew it, our little boat was in the middle of a violent thunder and lightning storm with golf-ball size hail. Our captain got very serious, pointing out the location of the life jackets as he cranked the engines to try to get us to land.

 

 

We didn't make it.  What started out as fun became a watery nightmare. Lightning was striking within feet of our boat and the wind, rain and hail pounded us relentlessly.  The only safe place to dock was still miles down the lake. We all took cover as best we could ...under benches or huddled together on the floor of the boat. After one especially loud crack of thunder, Rosalie, who  had been sitting on the other side of the boat,, rushed across the deck to cower seek protection under Hank's jacket, where I was already hiding, my eyes closed tight against the storm.

 

As we finally approached the shore, the storm was at its height. Rather than attempting to dock the boat, the captain just aimed it right up onto the beach and yelled, "Jump!" Visions of my dad's stories about beach landings on D-Day swirled around in my head.

 

 

When it was my turn to jump, I hesitated a second too long...until, over the roar of the storm,  I heard the woman behind me yell, "For God's sake, will you just JUMP!?!" So I did...not at all gracefully...and landed right behind Hank and Rosalie in about three feet of muddy water. We half swam, half-waded to shore and found shelter in a Tiki Hut at the campground, hugging each other and asking if this whole thing had just been a bad dream. It still didn't feel quite real.

 

Cheryl & Rosalie...soaked but back on land!

It seems that every time Hank and I camp at Rangeley, we find ourselves in the most ridiculous situations. The first year we got lost on the top of a mountain with our camper and had to back all the way down. The next year, I ended up stuck in a Scotty trailer with one of Maine's gubernatorial candidates, who happened to be in his boxer shorts. And this year, the boat tour from Hell.

 

What can I say, Goofy things just seem happen!