Sister Love

I love my sister. I really do. She doesn't like the same fabrics as I do, she doesn't like the same clothes as I do, she doesn't like a lot of foods I do. She good at things I'm not, and she's allergic to cats.

No matter, we have great fun together. When I told a dear friend of mine (who lives 3,000 miles away) that my sister and I could have fun in a paper bag, she replied, "From what I've heard about you and your sister, you don't even need the bag."

So when my sister called me Friday evening and asked if I could help her with a small lap quilt she was finishing up, I said, "Sure, no problem." Sister ties her quilts, then folds the back over to the front and machine sews it down. Piece of cake, I thought, couple of hours, I'll be home for dinner and can work on my white rules quilt.

I got to her house Saturday afternoon. "I don't have the back put together yet," she says to me.

"Okay."

"I mean, I didn't make the letters yet."

"What letters?"

"It has to say from Karen with love Malissa."

I counted the letters on my fingers. "THAT'S TWENTY-FOUR LETTERS. You have to make 24 letters, THEN add them to the backing, THEN finish the quilt????"

"Yeah."

"Do you know how long it's going to take to make 24 letters?"

"No, but you're the expert in letters." Then she added, "and they have to look like I made them."

About this time I'm thinking, "Damn honey, are YOU lucky I love you, because this is gonna take ALL DAY and I would much rather be home working on my own quilt."

Instead I said, "ok, what do you want the letters to look like, and how big do you want them to be?"

We got to work. We worked all afternoon, cutting strips, sewing letters. We had dinner, and worked into the evening. (We did take a side trip to the lqs for more fabric.)

After seven hours I said I had to go. My hands hurt, my arms hurt, my legs hurt, my back hurt. We got all the words done.

I love my sister.

Really.





You can see the words here.