Taa-Daa: Memory Quilt

At last! I'm sorry it's taken me such a long time to reveal my surprise project - it's proved a rather tricky thing to photograph. Either there has been too much sun casting big shadows all over the quilt's ripples, or not enough. I've been ill and had paid work and, even though I managed to complete the thing well enough for Dom's birthday deadline, it was somewhat held together with bondaweb. It took me a good 10 ten days afterwards to finish off all the hand stitching. Note to self: In future estimate the amount of time something will take, then double it.

However, voila, here it is. I give you - <trumpets> THE MEMORY QUILT! </trumpets>

Let me start by staying that my husband is resolutely difficult to buy for. He likes his bees, making home brew and hot women, given half a chance. However, since the last one has been out of the question since marrying me (sorry, Dom!) that leaves the other two, both of which have been well catered for at every other birthday, Christmas etc. My parents tend to give Dom some money as a gift, or buy him gardening tools / vouchers. He is very happy with this arrangement. His family normally give him money, which he likes too - and normally spends on beekeeping equipment.

I tried - I really did - to save enough money to take him to Rome for his 40th. However, no matter where I put the money, Dom found it and moved it back to be used for more important things. I even told him what I was doing, in sheer desperation, and all he could say was "but I don't want anything for my birthday." Yeah, right. This was his 40th, and I was not stupid enough to fall for that one, even if it would have served him right.

So I took a long, cold look at myself. My husband, the man I love, was turning 40 and I wanted to mark the occasion. What could I do? I don't have much spare money, that's for sure. Besides which, he'd decided that he wanted a lathe and everyone in the family was chipping in. That was all very practical, but what could I do? To coin a very cheesy management phrase, how could I add value?

 

I could bake a cake, but I had done that every year since we'd met. It wasn't special enough. We couldn't really afford to go away for the weekend, especially as we'd commited to going away with friends for a night a couple of weeks afterwards - this had been arranged since Christmas. Eventually I took a long look at my studio full of fabric and yarn, and decided it needed to be something hand made.

The problem with my husband though, gorgeous as he is, is that he's not in the least bit sentimental. And he's already had a Little Picasso cushion, and various other things I sell on Folksy: such is the lot of a spouse whose partner needs to refine her ideas. He actively cringes at most soppy things. What could I make that was sentimental, but not overly so, resource cheap, but could be time heavy?

At the same time, we were having a completely different conversation. Charlie had finally grown out of his cot bed, and he went into a big, single bed. It was a very exciting time for him, but a little sad for me. It was with great sadness that I packed away his cot, not likely to be used by us again, and all his cot bedding.

Then - TA DAAA! - there it was, in the middle of the night! I would use Charlie's recently discarded baby quilt to make a new quilt for Dominic. Dom would love that - he really does love his boys. It's sentimental enough without being sickly so - perfect. So, I gathered together Charlie's old duvet and bedding, and some old clothes of his and started to put together some ideas.

I'll be honest, there were times when I wondered whether this was an appropriate gift idea for a 40 year old man. But as the germ of the idea grew in my mind, I also started to realise that I wanted it to mark his life so far, and, to a certain extent, his dreams. It would be MORE than a quilt. An act of love, maybe? A rite of passage? That sounds a bit wanky, sorry. But you know what I mean.

So what I did was this. I got enough fabric together to work out a colour scheme (orange, red and blue), and then bought a couple of fabulous packs of co-ordinated fabric from the brilliant Seam Star. This isn't how I'd usually make a quilt - I'd enjoy spending time finding co-ordinating fabrics individually. But this takes time, which was something I didn't have. I would, however, buy the co-ordinated bundles again, it took a lot of hard work out of the process. And it included some fabrics I wouldn't have considered, but ended up looking great.

The next thing I did was to find some lovely family photos. It was important to me to have some photos of Dom throughout his life - something I knew he wouldn't be keen on! I tried to pick the nicest photos (I hope I did a good job.) There are some of his babyhood:

Some memories of his childhood:

(Dom could finish his Rubix cube - I could only do it by peeling the stickers off and putting them back in the right order! He often ribs me about this)

 

(we were both computer montitors at different schools, 200 miles apart. We both rave about the BBC Model B)

 

Some pictures of his adolescence (I think he's dead handsome on this one, aged 13ish, the same age as Jonny now):

His very first car - which he admits was a dog, but he loved.

Some pictures of the love of his life (I hope! lol)

and of his wife and children (I'm assuming they're one and the same!):

Some facts about the year he was born, 1971:

A dream of his:

He's a pianist (you have to be careful how you say that aloud!) He really wants a baby grand, but it's utterly and completely out of our league at the moment. This one was apparently a house warming gift for someone from Elton John. Dom loves playing EJ's music; Something About The Way You Look Tonight was our first dance song at our wedding. One day I'll be rich enough to buy him one. Until then, here is the promise.

And finally, a tribute to the lovely man that I love so much, who is a wonderful husband and father. And beekeeper:

On the back of the quilt, to recognise the birthday-ness of the tribute, I asked his family to write some messages on pieces of fabric in fabric pen.

(if you look carefully you'll notice an axe and a gravestone in a rather worrying tribute from Charlie depicting him "doing jobs" with his Daddy)

(I nearly cried at this one. Jonny never says the words "love you" anymore, being, of course, too cool for school now)

 

(this brought tears to everyone's eyes. Dom's Grandma died ten years ago, about 12 weeks before we got together)

(this seemed appropriate at the time. Now each time I look at it, it makes me sing Wild Thing in my head. Oopa)

So there you have it. A tribute, in textiles, to a lovely man. A way to show the warmth of our love both literally and metaphorically. We love you, Dominic. Happy Birthday, darling.

<passes sick bucket to blog readers. Normal service will resume soon>

 

PS I never did get to bake that cake.