When I was a teenager, my best friend taught me how to knit. Her Grammy had taught her, and for many summers, we’d get together for what are some of my favorite memories now - lazy evenings staying up way too late at one of our houses watching classic old movies and knitting. I kept up the habit through my undergraduate years and most of my first graduate program knitting mostly scarves and baby blankets for friends. The final step for each of those projects was often adding a little tag to the wrapping saying “Stitched with Love,” an accurate reflection of how I felt about those crafts. 

My best friend continues to expand her crafting expertise - she sews clothes for her young nieces, cross-stitches, and, five years ago, knitted her own wedding dress, translating and adapting a Russian pattern she found online. I’ve been known from time to time to pull out my phone to show off pictures of her wedding dress when I’m also showing off photos of my two sons.

My best friend’s wedding dress (photo by Maria Judnick)

When I was in my second graduate program, I learned how to quilt. My landlady - a retired German banker - was a lifelong crafter who would take me along sometimes to her Sunday night quilt group held after-hours at the local quilt store. This close-knit community of mostly older women would chat for hours over the loud hum of their machines about their kids, their husbands, and their sundry health issues. I always felt welcomed by this friendly crew, even with my rudimentary quilting skills as I started first on small projects like potholders and table runners, gradually moving up to lap quilts.

Over the years, between shifting family obligations and work as well as no longer living in the same city as my best friend (or my former landlady), it’s been harder for me to find time to pursue my craft hobbies. I still manage to take the occasional summer one-day workshop with friends where I try new things like calligraphy or weaving but it doesn’t match the same pride I felt while creating those larger-scale projects. Most of my yarn stash is now, well, stashed away in bins at the top of my younger son’s closet. Every so often I unearth an unfinished quilt tucked away in a dresser, while my sewing machine collects dust on a bottom shelf in my home office, out of view when I Zoom into meetings from home. 

For many years, I’ve taught Thoreau’s Walden, imploring students to “simplify, simplify, simplify” in order to focus on what’s most important. This summer I told myself to listen to his advice - slowly clearing out years of paperwork, streamlining my closets, and, most importantly, finding the nearly forgotten bag of quilt scraps I’d kept from my projects. 

It was auspicious to find those fabric squares right before a trip to rural Minnesota to visit members of my husband’s family. This stay at his uncle’s lake house was the longest vacation my husband and I have taken together in the last several years without our boys so we were already looking forward to some days of true rest and relaxation. My excitement over this trip escalated when I learned our plans included spending a day at a quilt auction supporting a summer camp for children with health needs where my husband’s uncle volunteers.

I was giddy as I looked online at the nearly 300 quilts listed for the silent and live auctions – it was clear how much love was stitched into every donated quilt. Seeing them in person draped over long laundry lines overlooking the camp’s picturesque lake was something I think even Thoreau would have approved of. It was like walking through an outdoor art gallery with every fiber artist showcasing their own unique techniques and skills. I chatted with other auction goers as we admired the quilts - many had been coming for years to the event, one woman even telling me she liked it “more than Christmas.” 

Quilt Photos: (the one of the auction was taken by me, the others are available on the auction website - https://lssmn2024quiltauction.ggo.bid/bidding/package-browse)

I won a few smaller wall displays that day in the silent auction after some intense bidding wars but I was absolutely captivated watching the auctioneer sell the larger quilts in a fast-paced atmosphere – people happily digging into their pocketbooks to show their sheer appreciation of the craft and also to benefit a good cause. After the first couple of quilts sold, I found myself texting back and forth with my best friend. She hopped online and followed along live with me, noting which quilts were her favorites and what projects she’d like to learn how to make. For a few hours, it felt just those days many summers ago sitting side by side, learning our craft. And while the small quilts now displayed in my home aren’t made by me, I feel proud to have made a family connection with the community that brought them to me from thousands of miles away.

My favorite knitting project I made for a friend’s kids