Day 48

We are kind of stuck at home with a contagious baby, so our exercise today was a walk in a very chilly Richmond Park, with not many people around.  After that Luna had a checkup appointment at the doctor and because Stuart was still at work I drove Emma and the baby, so I can now say that I have driven in London traffic!  Emma said, "Are you sure you'll be alright, mom?", to which I responded, "Well Em, I drive in Boston."  She said, "Yes, but that's on the other side of the road!"   Anyway, it was fine, a little bit nerve-wracking but Emma is a very calm navigator and told me which lane I should be in and exactly where I should turn, even when I should put on my indicator!  So we made an excellent team which got us there and back quite happily. 

Richmond Park panorama with a squished car

Richmond Park is one of the green areas of London.  It is the largest royal Park in the city.  It was created by Charles 1 in 1634 as a deer  park for hunting.  (These kings sure loved hunting, didn't they?)  Between 1916 and 1925 the park housed a South African war hospital, which was a strange fact to suddenly read, during my research. 

It is so important for people to have green spaces, especially city people, and I love that there are all these parks throughout London.  Richmond Park has all kinds of different areas, and this part is rather desolate, particularly in winter, although there are crocuses budding already and daffodils well on their way. 

All my life I have been making quilts for people.  My first present for Tim was a quilt for his birthday, in early 1984, when we were still just friends.  So naturally, for Luna's first birthday, I decided to make her a quilt.  The thing is though that I also work best under pressure, so I frequently leave projects like this until the last minute.  Which meant that I finished the quilt at 12.30am on Thursday night, and got on the plane bound for England on Friday evening after a full day's teaching.  Jess, hearing this, said, "Oh mom, when will you learn?" because my children know me so well.  Such a good example I set, don't I?

Luna's quilt, with day and night and the moon and stars.

I recently read another book on slavery and abolition, a fictionalised account of the lives of Sarah and Angelina Grimke, two real women who fought against slavery and women's oppression in the 1800's in America.  One of the black characters is a brilliant seamstress, a slave who has to make all the clothing and curtains for the family to which she belongs, which includes the slave labor too.  And this all by hand!  She sews story-quilts in the few moments of spare time which she has, carrying on her mother's people's tradition from her ancestors, the Fon people of Africa.  Until now I was not aware that Africans had made quilts before they came to America, but apparently appliqué was common amongst the Fon.  Because they were never taught to read, many slave women put down their histories of violence and cruelty on their own story quilts. It was their way of telling their own stories.

It is a lovely thing to do, to make the gift of a quilt for someone.  Making a story quilt, or an appliqué quilt, is almost like painting a picture, except that the article you make can wrap around the person when they are sad, can keep them warm when they are cold, can drape over their shoulders when they are sitting on a hillside overlooking the sea thinking deep thoughts, can send them off to sleep under them with sweet dreams.