First Full Day of Summer 2026 Quilt Camp

I've spent part of the summer putting together the quilt top for the quilt I hoped to be assembling during Summer 2026 Quilt Camp at Lutheridge.  

We've also been going back and forth on the size of the bed we plan to have once we move into the Spartanburg fixer-upper house we bought back in May.

We've finally decided on a king size bed, so I sewed the last panel back to the quilt top; back in July, I had taken that panel off.  On my way to work on Tuesday, I stopped at Foam and Fabric--they sell wide fabric for quilt backs, and I decided that it was worth the cost so that I didn't have to sew the back together.

Yesterday morning, I was ready to start quilting.  Because Summer Quilt Camp has less attendance than other times of the year, I was able to use extra tables to make the quilting of the king size quilt easier.  I spread out the backing fabric and then the batting and then spent time figuring out how to position the top.

I spent yesterday quilting the middle of the quilt.  I wanted to make sure I got that part stabilized in case I couldn't complete the project during this retreat.

People dropped by my station to take a closer look.  Before I close up the project, I thought that I, too, should preserve a closer look.  I'm not only quilting by hand, but I also sewed the whole top by hand.

It's a lot of sewing, but it's usually done when I'm watching T.V.  or chatting.  It's often part of my self-soothing tool kit, which doing it by machine would not be.  I've also done other projects along the way.  It's taken a long time, but I haven't really noticed.

This morning, I went back to past blog posts, and here's the one where I see the project that inspired me, back in the Fall 2022 Quilt Camp.  By January, I had made some progress, documented in this blog post.    Along the way, a friend showed me that I didn't need sashing between the squares, and that decision made the assembly of the top much more fun.

I spent one Quilt Camp putting squares together on design boards in search of the perfect flow of colors, which I then sewed together, only to realize that I didn't really have enough for a queen size bed.  I sewed more squares, and when I returned to the project, I put squares together into long panels more randomly, which worked just as well.

Quilting is never my favorite part of the project, at least not bed-size projects.  It's hard on the fingers and the back--and other muscles too.  But with this project, I've had an unexpected benefit:  the chance to return to all those squares, to marvel at the differences in scraps included, to delight in all the colors and fabrics in this quilt.

Onward to Day 2!

Farewell, Tim Curry

And now, a day after Dolly Parton's death, comes news of the death of Tim Curry.  Like so many, my earliest memories of Tim Curry are as Dr. Frank-N-Furter in The Rocky Horror Picture Show.  I didn't see that movie until my sophomore year of college, but I was aware of it in high school.

I was a drama club kid, so of course I was aware of the show.  But I was also a teenager with a strict curfew of 11 p.m., so I was not going to midnight movies in high school.  My parents wanted to protect me, and with the wisdom that comes with age, I'm grateful that they were paying attention.

When I finally saw the movie, I was baffled.  And every time I've seen it, I've been baffled.  I've loved the first part of the movie, but then it all falls apart once the butchery begins.  In later years, the "seduction" scenes leave me feeling a bit ill--no means no, even if you're needing shelter on a stormy night.

Despite the problems with the movie, Curry's talent shines through.  My favorite role of his was his stint on Roseanne.  Roseanne Barr is now a problematic figure, but that show was boundary breaking in all sorts of ways that don't have much in common with the boundaries that Barr breaks now.

I've seen various articles about the career of Tim Curry, and I'm amazed at what wide range he had.  But really, I shouldn't be amazed.  The two roles that I remember him for show that range:  an outrageous cross-dressing alien and a working class guy dating a mouthy woman (Nancy on Roseanne, played by Sandra Bernhard).

Time is short, and soon I need to open the Faith Center at Lutheridge for the first full day of Quilt Camp, so let me conclude with one of the most quotable lines from The Rocky Horror Picture Show:  "Don't dream it, be it."

Farewell, Dolly Parton

I'm as sad as everyone about the death of Dolly Parton.  Let me record a few thoughts:

--I'm glad that I was a child in the 70's, that my mom listened to A.M. radio, which meant I heard all kinds of music, including Dolly Parton's songs, both old and new.  The radio stations of my childhood played anything, so you could hear a Dolly Parton song, then a Beatles song, then an old Elvis song, sprinkled with modern pop by groups like Bread, the Carpenters, and so on.

Modern algorithms would not have sent Dolly Parton music my way.  But I must confess that it has taken me many decades to appreciate her music, and I still wouldn't choose her music for a long drive or an evening at home.

--I didn't see her acting during my childhood.  I didn't see 9 to 5 until a few years ago.  I did love Steel Magnolias.

--I've never been to Dollywood.  I would go, if I won tickets.

--I'm not an expert on business, but from my outsider view, she seemed to have business smarts that most of us will never possess.  She know how to capitalize on success while always seeming/being sincere in her enthusiasm.  That skill probably can't be taught in Business school.

--In terms of gender and presentation, she always intrigued me.  There have been years when I was frustrated and annoyed by her over the top femaleness.  Let me just be blunt:  the attention to her breasts was so offputting to me.  As I got older, her costumes intrigued me--the woman liked what she liked, and she loved sparkles.  

As I've gotten older, I've been in awe of all the ways she worked the system without losing her soul.  But I've also been sad about how hard it must have been for her, and about how many others did not survive, which wasn't her fault.

And I've been happy about how she blazed a trail for others--and then kept making sure the trail stayed clear (and to stretch the metaphor, she went back and made roads).

--Her songwriting skills -- wow.  I was amazed at how many songs she wrote.  I loved when she was interviewed and would talk about her creative process, about grabbing inspiration when it came and writing it down on scraps of paper, even the barf bag on an airplane.  

--Her musician skills -- wow.  She played with so many people through the years, and the fact that she could do so speaks to her singing skills, her skills on so many instruments, her expansive vision of what music could and should do.

--She didn't always talk openly about her faith.  Sure, she talked about the faith of her childhood.  I'd have liked to have known more about her grown up faith.

--Of course, she showed us that faith by all the people she helped, by the life she lived.

--Her philanthropy has always been what impressed me most about her.  She gave back, above and beyond, in so many ways, and much of what she did, we will never know about.

--And she continued to do good until the very end, in all the ways she was doing good:  music, support of other artists, business, philanthropy.  Her continued vibrance is why so many of us are feeling sad.  

Whirlwinds: Teaching Days and Apprentices

Yesterday was one of those teaching days where I had plans going into the day, with back up plans because I wasn't sure the original plans would work, and then I went with the original.  Let me explain, in case it's useful:

--I had planned to do peer editing with my English 101 class.  I got rough drafts by e-mail, and then I couldn't open most of them, even when students tried to give me editing/access permissions.  Grr.  Some of the students sent in their rough drafts other ways, but I wasn't sure that everyone got the message.

So I went into Monday thinking I'd do Wednesday's lesson (intros, conclusions, and transitions) yesterday if I didn't have the rough drafts.  I was almost sure I was going to do that.  But I printed the rough drafts that arrived over the week-end, and lo and behold, I had them all.  So I shifted back to the original plan, and we did peer editing.

--I hadn't done the speed writing with objects week 1 writing with my nonfiction writing class, and I thought I would do that yesterday.  I knew that one student would be absent, and I wondered if the whole class might be there on Wednesday, if I should wait.  But I also feel we're now in the point of the semester where on any given day, someone will be absent.

We've been in a reading intensive time in that class, so I thought it was good to mix it up a bit.  So I went with the plan:  writing about objects on Monday, one more essay on Wednesday, along with planning for rough draft writing.  But I didn't make that decision until literal moments before the class started.

It went really well, much like the experience I blogged about last week. But unlike last week, I put random collections of objects on the tables.  I did that primarily because there was no time to set up the room before students got there because I have my assigned writing center hour from 11-noon, and the class starts at noon.

My teaching day felt hectic--no down time at all.  I am thinking I need to rethink my office hours, but in some ways, I'm not sure there's a great alternative that works with our current housing, with my spouse commuting down with me to work on our fixer-upper house.

We were both exhausted yesterday, so we settled in to watch The Apprentice.  When the movie first came out, I had no interest in seeing it, but as is often the case with biopics, I slowly changed my mind as I heard other people talk about the movie (interviews and reviews and passing remarks).  It was an amazing piece of work, intriguing to see how the characters made us believe that they were the actual characters that have come to loom so large.  But it was also a good choice for last night because it didn't require much intellectual work--it's not a complicated movie.

I remembered hearing interviews when the movie came out, and so now I'm listening to them again.  I first thought about seeing the movie when I heard the lead actor interviewed on NPR--astonishing to see that I heard that interview back in February of 2025.  Time just zooms along.

Satisfying Sunday: Worship/Cookout in the Pavilion and Reading in the Evening

 Yesterday, I made this Facebook post which sums up my Sunday morning:

"We had a great morning at Faith Evangelical Lutheran Church, where I preached on Matthew 16 and ended my sermon by asking us to think about how our lives themselves are gospels that testify to the identity of Jesus and his role in our lives. We had a hamburger/hotdog lunch in the pavilion, with delicious food and nourishing fellowship. I'm not sure how the morning could have been much better, short of winning a lottery amount that would let us solve the shortage of affordable housing in the area and provide quality health care for all."

To see a recording of my sermon, go here to my YouTube channel.  To read the manuscript, go to this blog post.

The afternoon was also good.  I did a bit of sewing, caught up on chores, and got ready for the week.  In the evening, my spouse was listening to old Hank Williams songs, and I read--a delight!

I read most of Tara Menon's Under Water last night.  I read a bit of it earlier in the day, in the just after midnight moments of Sunday, where it confused me at first.  It took me a bit of time to realize the narrative is shifting back and forth in time, mainly from 2004 to 2012, but also back to earlier childhood years of the narrator.  I read the Acknowledgements and figured out the tsunami angle. When I picked up the book, I thought it was more of a future apocalypse kind of novel, but it’s a different kind of climate catastrophe novel.

At first it seems like a slight book. But it packs a powerful punch—about a woman who undergoes two catastrophes, the 2004 tsunami and Hurricane Sandy in 2012.

And now, a new week--a week that ends in Quilt Camp.  Let me get ready.

Scrappy Houses

One of the beautiful things about social media is the inspirations that might come on any random day, and not even from people we know.  This morning, a post from a human I don't know (Jim Hankins) came across my Facebook feed.  Here's what the larger quilt looks like:

I might have scrolled on by, if I hadn't read the poster's description of each block as little houses made of scraps, one for each day of the year.  And perhaps more than houses--when I look, I'm also seeing trees.  Here's a close up:

Hmm.  Could I do this without paper piecing?  Stay tuned!

Random Objects in the Creative Writing Classroom

I've written before about using objects as writing prompts (see this blog post for explanation and pictures).  Usually I spread objects out on a table and have students pick one.  We do a variety of types of writing:  description, writing in the voice of the object, free associating to access memories based on the object.  It works well across writing classes.

In my Creative Writing class, half the students have had me in other classes, so I wanted to do a different approach, but still use objects.  We meet in one of the larger classrooms, so I had an idea.  I got to the classroom early and was happy to see that the room was set up with tables in the middle and a ring of tables around the edge of the room.  I decided to use 12 of them as stations.

At first I thought I would put one object per table, and then I thought it would be more interesting to have several objects.  Some tables had connected objects:  for example, on one table I put Christmas ornaments, a Christmas card, a packet of replacement bulbs for a strand of holiday lights.  On another, I kept the objects from the natural world:  3 feathers, a pine cone, and some shells.  Other tables were more random collections.

I was also pleased with how many tactile experiences they could have.  I had two felted pieces, along with chunks of wood and chunks of asphalt.  The cross made out of palm stalks and the waxy, half-burnt candle gave different sensations.  I put out broken strings of beads and broken pottery.

I told students that they would need paper and something to write with, or they could take laptops to write on.  They all chose paper, and I told them to make sure they had enough paper.

Students sat at a table and had 30 seconds to look at the objects.  Then they wrote for 3 minutes.  They could write about the object or write in the voice of the characters we created in past class sessions or explore their own memories.  I wasn't looking at their writing, so they had plenty of latitude, as long as they kept writing.

After three minutes, they moved to the next table, a process which went smoothly.  At the end, I had them read all the writing they had done, marking any that had potential.  I reminded them that they could go deeper, but I wasn't requiring it.  For me, it's too much policing, having students write for 20-30 minutes.

My students seemed to really like the process.  They talked about how many ideas it generated and how much fun it was to write about random objects.  They also talked about their wonder at what all was waiting to be written about--and I reminded them that we live in a world of random objects, so whenever they feel blocked, they should remember this technique.

It's been a really good teaching week, and this experience was one of the highlights.