A couple of years ago, my best friend's mom, Rose, taught me how to do a 9-patch quilt. I've been hooked ever since. Even as I was working on my first quilt, I was dreaming of the next quilt I'd make and the one after and the one after that one and so forth. That's when Rose declared another quilter had been born. You know you're a quilter when you think of five other quilts you want to make even before you start to sew your first block on a work-in-progress.
I attribute my love of quilts to being a former blanket-baby.
From birth to age seven (okay, longer than that), I dragged Ninnie everywhere. He was a yellow wool crib-size blanket with yellow satin edging. He was also my best friend, confidant, and comforter. Where ever I went, he went too, and he gave me a sense of home. Peace. Contentment.
Ninnie has long since been retired (although he still maintains a spot of privilege at my father's house), but I still get a profound sense of security from wrapping myself up in the comfort of a snuggly quilt. Nothing beats it, especially when that quilt has been handmade with love.
This is why I quilt - to create works of happiness and comfort that offer up warmth and love.