I’ve made lots of smaller quilted items over the years, too — pillows, wall hangings, placemats, table runners, etc.
Bear Paw table runner
This spent years on my sofa table in the living room. It’s on top of the quilt box on my upstairs landing now.
Seminole table runner
This is what’s on the sofa table in my living room now. I bought the fabric and pattern on a trip to Montana and North Dakota. Fabric makes a wonderful souvenir. The tan fabric is a print of national park maps.
Bears in the Woods wall hanging
This hangs in my bedroom. It’s an Eleanor Burns pattern. It’s 4 feet square, which means those tiny ‘claw’ triangles in the corner bear paw blocks are 1 inch long. Never, ever again. Hand-quilted.
Cross-stitched and quilted pillows
My first quilted projects bigger than a potholder. The centers are cross-stitched, and they’re hand-pieced (they were made before I bought my sewing machine) and hand-quilted, then put together on my quilting mentor’s sewing machine. I learned to quilt because when my ex and I first moved to a small town in northern Ohio in 1988, one of his co-workers took me under her wing and introduced me around. When she said, I’ll have to take you to quilt guild, I said, but Ginny, I don’t quilt, and she said I can fix that… So, if you want to think about it that way, everything on these pages is All Her Fault.
Double Irish Pajama Chain
This hangs in my sewing room. It’s about two and a half by five feet. The pattern is Double Irish Chain, and the print fabric reminded me of men’s pajamas, hence the name. Hand-quilted.
Green Leaves Will Turn to Brown
The first bigger than a pillow project I ever made. The pattern is called Ozark Maple Leaves. The name is from a song by Tom Paxton, I think (not the Simon and Garfunkel song) Hand-pieced, hand-quilted, about two by four feet.
Made for my Australian friend Jacki, in trade for a beautiful hand-knitted gray pullover sweater. About 3 feet square. Hand-quilted.
Made for my friend Jerrie. About four feet square. I don’t know the name of the pattern — the stars are in the sashing and the blocks are plain — but it’s the same pattern as the Yule Stars top still waiting to be quilted. Hand-quilted.
A sofa throw made for my friend Loralee. About four and a half feet square. I don’t know the name of the pattern. I cribbed it from a quilt I saw in a quilt show (“Hi, my name is Meg and I’m a quilt show junkie.” “Hi, Meg!”).
Mike and Shaniece’s quilt
Made for my nephew Mike and his new wife Shaniece on the occasion of their wedding. Another Warm Wishes, 54″ square. The colors were by request. Hand-quilted.
I’ve made half a dozen or so whole-cloth (no piecing, just one big piece of fabric) hand-quilted pillows, and at least one pieced pillow. These are the ones I have photos of:
This one was made for the annual fund-raising auction at the Job Carr Cabin Museum. The cabin on the pillow looks remarkably like the Job Carr Cabin.
Whoever came up with the Stonehenge fabric line, which is a series of fabrics made to look like various kinds of stone, has my admiration. I love these fabrics, and both the tan and the white pillows are made from it. The stencils are 17″ square whole cloth stencils from The Stencil Company.
Pine Cone Twist
That much orange is not good for anyone, which is too bad as I really liked that pine cone fabric. About 3×5 feet. Hand-quilted.
Originally made to decorate the living room back in Ohio, it hangs in my bedroom now. About two feet square. Hand-quilted.
The companion to Snow Crystals, above. I designed and cut the stencil for the stars in the little squares myself, out of used x-ray film my ex-mother-in-law the nurse gave me.
Star chain critter sofa throw
The sofa throw that currently lives on my loveseat. The critters and the tent in the central stars are cross-stitched. Hand-quilted with a Celtic knot pattern in the plain squares, which doesn’t show up too well in the photo, alas.
The cats’ quilt
The concept was, if I could get them to sleep on this, they wouldn’t get cat hair all over the furniture. This did not work well, and I used it as a sofa throw for a long time. It’s in storage now. Machine-quilted.
A bird quilt for my mother.
Detail of the hand quilting on my mother’s bird quilt.
I picked up the cross-stitch patterns for the birds at the little cross-stitch store near my mother’s house in Texas. When she saw the booklet, she hinted rather broadly that she liked them (not that she needed to — she’s been collecting birds of various kinds for decades). I decided to put three of them into a throw/wall-hanging. Hand-quilted.
Made for my friend Kathy a number of years ago. She just sent me some photos of it!
It’s December, and I’ve just gotten out my Christmas stuff. Now seemed like an opportune time to photograph the quilted items I display at my house this time of year.
The runner for my sofa table. That really is green fabric, not black. It’s just very, very dark.
That’s interesting. I did not notice until just now that two of the triangles in the alternating squares are turned the wrong way. I made this about fifteen years ago, so that’s a long time to be that oblivious. The green and white blocks each have a feather wreath quilted into them.
One of the two whole cloth pillows made with Christmas Stonehenge fabric.
And the other one.
And here’s a closeup of the quilting on one of them.
One of the real advantages to making quilts for charity and having to stockpile them because the actual donation process happens only twice a year is that if I suddenly have a need to give someone a quilt, then I have one all ready to go. Or in this case, two!
This quilt is going to the mother of my friend Jan, whom I’ve known since I was in first grade (we celebrated our 50th anniversary in 2015). Jan’s mother is elderly, and ill, and has just moved into
assisted living. I call this one the leaf quilt, for obvious reasons, and, yes, some of the leaves are turned randomly to simulate real fallen leaves. I didn’t realize until I started going through my stash
looking for leaf fabrics that I had that many. Each block has its own off-white fabric, too. Hand-quilted, just diagonal lines.
This one is going to my newly-married eldest nephew (who finally did the deed at almost 42 years old). I’m calling it the star quilt,
obviously. Thirteen different yellow fabrics (one’s the binding), and I lost count of how many blues/teals/purples/blacks. Several dozen, at least. It took me longer than usual to quilt this one, even though all I did was quilt around the stars (both the yellow ones and the blue ones — including the partial blue ones — you’ll have to look close to find them), and around the edge. Mostly because I decided to back it in navy blue, and the blue fabric was much more tightly woven than my usual muslin, making it harder to needle through. Someone commented when I posted this on social media that it looks like an homage to Van Gogh’s Starry Night. I can live with that…
I made this to top the quilt box I inherited from my parents. Unfortunately, due to circumstances I’m not going to get into here, I have passed the quilt box on to one of my nephews, but I still have the quilt. My only use of wool batting. The fabrics remind me of summer at Sunrise, one of the visitor areas at Mt. Rainier National Park, which is covered with wildflowers in July and August. This is where I want my ashes scattered one of these days. Four feet square, hand quilted.