I am in a nostalgic mood this Advent.
Perhaps am I also somewhat sentimental, generally speaking.
I know for sure it's the good times giving us strength to cope with the bad times. They always will come, one way or another.
This bedspread also has a Christmas story.
It dates from the early seventies. Money were tighter and recycling and patchwork were in fact in. I the summer I'd been in my Mom's attic looking for some fabric. I found some- and then left for school.
Coming home for Christmas vacation I noticed my Dad had band aids on his right thumb, long and forefinger. I asked but did not get any reasonable answer.
Soon other topics occupied my interests.
Christmas Eve, time to open gifts. I got this parcel containing this bedspread. My Mom's and My Dad's eyes hung expectantly on me, as if to embraces my joy.
I was happy, of course I was. Then they both told the story about how my Dad had used scissors to cut 560 hexagons of thick cartoon. My Mom had cut the fabric equally, nettle and taped the hexagons to the cartoon and sewed them together by hand with tiny little stitches.
This was the first and last time my Dad participated in needlework.
They both were proud of their wounds from the patchwork craft, like warriors.
Needless to say I cherish that bedspread till this day.