More stitching on cotton for the quilt of many pieces.
But it’s the red currants that are tied to happy childhood memories.
My sister, 3 years younger, would spend hours and hours sitting in front the currant bushes at the end of our lawn picking them off one by one. She was always little compared to me, much more delicate in build. I remember her face, with her scrunched up little nose when she smiled, as she brought her little bowl in.
We had white and red currants.
I don’t remember eating them.
Maybe because they were her special treat after all the time it took her to pick them. There were never enough to dry or harvest for baking. So they remained hers, the spoils of her toil.
I love the red of this particular thread. It looks juicy.
With -40 outside, without the windchill, it’s nice to have lovely summer memories.
My sister, and currants.