Between the Layers, A Quilt Show

Last week I visited the quilt exhibit at the newly built Tennessee State Museum in Nashville.  They have over 400 quilts in their collection and periodically display a selection.  It was too exciting: I had to go.

I am a quilt snob and proud of it.  At a previous quilt exhibit held at the older museum located in the Tennessee Performing Arts Center, I caused a bit of a ruckus.  While leaning in close to admire an antique handmade quilt (with the tiniest, most exquisite, perfect stitches ever), an alarm began shrieking and people could be heard scurrying behind me.  I wasn't worried because the museum was on the bottom floor and if there was a fire, it was an easy exit. If the museum had been on the 24th floor, with 24 flights to descend, my reaction would have been much different. I continued to quietly stand and gawk.  A deep masculine voice startled me from behind and I whirled around to face a firing squad of security guards - all glaring at me!

"Ma'am," said the towering guard. "Don't touch the quilts."

"But officer, I didn't touch anything!"  I hastily defended myself.  "I was only looking."

"We have security sensors surrounding each item and your breath triggered an alarm."

Realizing my guilt, I was horrified and feared jail time!  "Oh, sir! I will immediately stop breathing.  I promise!"

He laughed - then all the guards returned to their posts.  The emergency had been aborted.

At the new museum, I behaved better.

Lucy Virginia French Smith

Multi-talented Lucy French had her husband purchase the silk for this quilt on a business trip to New Orleans.  Later, when Civil War troops threatened her property, French allegedly pretended to be ill in bed, covering herself - and the family silver - with the quilt.

Barbara Lotspeich Broyles
During the Civil War, Barbara loaned some of her quilts to Confederate soldiers camping nearby. The quilts were returned but one was infected with typhus. Both she and her husband perished from the disease.

Nunnelee Family, 1855 - 1865

Marcus Nunnelee was a surveyor and his wife Lucy, probably used his instruments to draw this unique pattern before the Civil War.  Their daughters Sally, Mary, and Martha, did the quilting.

Diane Getty

When Tennessee First Lady Andrea Conte began renovating the Tennessee Governor's Residence in 2005, she asked artists to repurpose the old curtains and upholstery fabric.  Diane Getty created this wall hanging and it was used to decorate the modernized mansion.

Rebecah Foster
"October 5, 1808," embroidered on this quilt by Rebecah Foster, is the earliest known date on a Tennessee quilt. ...(T)he eagle of the United States coat of arms at the center, expressed patriotism at a time of strained relations with Great Britain which led to the War of 1812.

Nancy Isabel "Nannie" Hendricks, (1846 - 1930)

According to family tradition, she made this quilt for her hope chest at age 15.  In 1881, Nannie married John Gibbons.  The quilt was never used and has retained its bright colors.

Samantha Brazzoria Garland Pack, (1858 - 1902)

This quilt was made as a gift for her young sister-in-law Mary Ella Pack.

Judy Elwood (1940-)

Alice Richardson (1926-)

Joyce Tennery (1939-2002)

Tennessee Sampler, 1982

Elwood, Richardson, and Tennery featured these patterns in the book "Tennessee Quilting, Plus Patterns" and displayed it at the 1982 World's Fair in Knoxville.  

Unidentified member of the Bacon Family, about 1850 - 1860

Harriet Meneese Falls, (1863 - 1945)

Annette Woods Byrd (1937-)

Jannie H. DeBerry (1907-1995)

Apple Blossoms

Singer Manufacturing Company "Featherweight" Portable Sewing Machine, 1954 -1959

A machine just like my Mom's, the same kind on which I learned to sew was at the museum behind a glass case! That's a creepy feeling - to see something I have used a hundred times, displayed in a museum. I felt old.

It was called a "Featherweight" because it was one of the first portable sewing machines ever built.  It was metal, designed to last and my cousin, who is a serious quilter, still uses it.  My Father always scoffed when Mom called it a "Featherweight."  Once it stopped working so Mom asked Dad to take it to Nashville for repairs.  Dad drove a Greyhound bus so he carried it with him on his route.  He hauled it a long distance from the bus station, up a steep hill to the shop.  It was a strenuous walk and the machine got heavier with each step.  When he returned days later, he discovered the only problem was that Mom had put the needle in backward.  He had to lug it all the way back home and never let her forget her mistake.

There were many more quilts in the fantastic exhibit.  I had a wonderful time and suppose any day you don't go to jail, is a good one.

Secret Sinkholes

We have not one, but two secret sinkholes on our property.  It's not polite manners to brag, but I can't stop myself.  Most unenlightened people would say they are worthless pieces of land but not me - I like mine.  Sinkholes are formed by water eroding underground rocks causing holes and caves.  They are common in this area of Tennessee and I love sharing my love of rocks.  

This one is on an elevated area in the field and is surrounded by a clump of trees.  

Amongst the trees, it's possible to see where drainage has formed a round, deep basin.  

The second secret sinkhole is located in the woods behind the house.  Water flows downhill where it quickly disappears.  Bill says it's technically not a sinkhole but just an unimpressive low area.  We named it "the sinkhole" and so that is what it is.

This is the view standing inside the woods beside the sinkhole looking toward the garden and the back of the house.

Yesterday it looked barren and empty but that's only because water from the recent rains have drained away.

A day after last weeks big storm and my trip to the Amish in the rain, it was full of water.

In wintertime, it's beautiful when frozen.

The surface freezes but because it is a sinkhole, the water underneath continues to drain.  It leaves a layer of ice on top which cracks as it thaws forming interesting patterns. The land truly isn't good for much, but I enjoy watching it change.

My secret places are not secret to our new roommates.  They enjoy the water and can be heard sloshing around when we are working in the garden. Walking on the inside of the fence creates interest.  Do I have any treats?  If not, forget me.

As I returned from my muddy walk in the woods, an indignant Scooter caught me and asked, "How did you get over this tall fence without me?  Did you slip through the gate again without my permission?"

"No one is allowed on a thrilling adventure without me.  I may be putting a collar and leash on you, Mom, if you don't learn to behave!"

Additional Links:

Rocks in Tennessee

Amish, A Trip in the Rain

Introducing Our New Roommates

Amish, A Trip in the Rain

Last week was my regularly scheduled day to visit the local Amish community to buy fresh milk; however, there was a storm blowing in.  It had been raining for weeks, the ground was saturated, the weather report warned the storm would stall over our area, so everybody should stay home.  There is no way to reach my Amish friends to cancel our meeting other than writing a letter and it was too late for that.  If I am held up, they hitch their horse to the buggy, drive to the closest store and buy ice to cool down the milk.  Because it is extra work for them, I am never late nor miss my appointments.  I will be there as promised - Good Lord willing and the creeks don't rise.

As I was driving, emergency warnings were beeping on my cell phone announcing road closures.  The flood waters were rising.

Even without a radio, the Amish folk realized staying inside was best but the horses were different.  This herd seemed to be captivated by the rushing water.

These drenched horses wouldn't turn around and walk through the wide-open barn door beside them.

This one decided to be naughty just like our horses.  He was taking advantage of the opportunity that his owner was not close by, smashed the fence and dined on the tender green grass on the other side.  Shame on him!

I was able to buy the milk (in the pouring rain) then began my long journey home.  The creeks started to overflow so the county road crews began closing the sidestreets.

Some roads were completely impassible so it was necessary for me to turn around.

By the time I arrived close to home, the flooding had become worse. I know this area well. The pavement only dips a few inches so I drove on through.

Next, I passed the area where water runs uphill in my neighborhood.  When I left in the morning, this is how the water looked in the creek running under the bridge.  It sits over the anti-gravity step-up vortex hidden deep underground.

A few hours later, it looked like this.  Even though it was flooded, the water continued to run uphill.

Uphill

Downhill

I turned around but all the other side roads were flooded.  Only people with trucks were able to pass. There are reasons people in the country love their pickup trucks - this is one of them.

I drove miles out of the way to the main highway and circled around to the other end of my road.  It felt good to finally see my mailbox.  Forget trying to get the mail.  I was just glad to be home.

"Welcome home Mom!" said a mud-covered Scooter.  "Isn't this weather adventuresome?  Every mud puddle needs to be splashed and explored.  Haven't you heard, mud facials get rid of wrinkles?  You might want to give it a try."

"Methinks I see a puddle I missed."

Additional Links:

No one believes me but this is proof water does run uphill.
Water Runs Uphill in my Neighborhood

Amish, Buying Fresh Milk