The Story of the Patchwork Quilt So just to paint the scene here, I am writing this in between sips of Sprite and chicken noodle soup all while being wrapped up in an old patchwork quilt I helped my Grannie to make yearrrrs ago. As a kid, I remember my Grannie’s little sewing room. It was an enclosed front porch area with lots of windows. There were nice waist-high cabinets all around, which she never used simply because they were buried under years and years of fabric and sewing supplies. Instead, she chose to sit in a squeaky old chair at…
