Their splendor never ceases to amaze me, and I always take pictures. This year, I felt inspired to transform their pictures into a quilt that would preserve their beauty for longer than a day.

Detail of the center flower in "Queens for A Day"

The result is  “Queens for a Day,” a quilt that measures 48.25 inches wide by 42.5 inches high. I used my own hand-dyed cotton fabrics for the background and the flowers, free-cutting the leaf shapes and building the flowers using methods from Susan Carlson.The border is a batik I had purchased many years ago, which I think suggests a trellis or garden fence. The squares in the border pop up because of the quilting in the dark green.

The flowers are built up from individual slivers of fabric held down by fabric glue until they can be stitched down. The center flower has netting on top to hold the pieces in place. I didn’t use the netting on the other flowers, which I decided was a mistake because the pieces would catch as I was quilting them. The flowers have an extra layer of batting under them to make them pop up above the background.

The quilt has wool batting, which allows for a lot of relief from areas that are closely quilted versus those that aren’t quilted so heavily. I used shapes to suggest other  plants and insects in the background.

Here are some pictures from the quilt, completed on Sept. 29, 2011.

An oblique view shows the detailed quilting of "Queens for A Da

"Queens for a Day" celebrates the short-lived splendor of daylilies.

But I often get into trouble with these projects because I am in a hurry to get them done and get on to something else. That happened to me recently when I agreed to assemble some blocks decorated by children at my church’s vacation church school.

When I got the blocks, I was touched by the messages some of the children had written. It was a true “out of the mouths of babes” experience. I soon saw that I could make a stair-step design using diagonal rows of the five main colors, and I found a bright fabric in the church’s stash that tied them all together. I laid the blocks out on my dining room table and soon had them sewn into a top.

Triumphantly, I took the top to church that Sunday for the director to show off as one of the results of the week’s experience. The director said the children were really excited to see their blocks in the quilt.

Later that day, I got a call from another church member asking tentatively if she could have her blocks back. Uh, sure, I said, knowing that there were additional cut blocks that hadn’t been decorated. When she came by to claim them, I offered her those.

“Those aren’t my blocks,” she said. I offered her the bag I’d received, and digging down, she found a plastic bag of pieced blocks she had made that were supposed to have been mixed with the blocks the children had  decorated.

“I thought you didn’t like my blocks,” she said.

“I didn’t even know there were in there,” I replied, and apologized for leaving them out and feeling really bad about it.

She said making the blocks had gotten her interested in quilting again, and she would probably use them to make a wall hanging for our church auction later this year.

A further problem developed when I decided to use some striped material from the bag of donations for backing. It had some kind of coating on it that made it slippery, and I had trouble keeping it anchored properly. But I managed to finish the quilt finally.

I guess the lesson to be drawn from this is that I should take more time to understand a project before diving in, especially if I’m making it for someone other than myself. I also know that using donated materials can be problematic because they may be of a material that doesn’t perform like good old 100 percent cotton.

Then, about six months ago, I got notice that one of my fractal quilts would be included in the book. I got my copy in late January. By then, the subtitle had been added: “An Inspiring Collection of Contemporary Work.” And with no apology, I can say that is exactly what the book is: a source of inspiration that so many artists have created such lovely and varied pieces of art.

In the introduction to this new book, Karey Patterson Bresenhan, the founder of Quilts Inc., writes:

“To me, each of the art quilts in this book comes with a hidden life – a life that is ours to interpret and enjoy. The pieces on these pages are imagination personified. Choosing them was challenging and gratifying, and I am happy to share them with you.”

Bresenhan is well known in the quilt world. Her organization sponsors a major quilt show in Houston, which is preceded by the industry’s biggest trade show. The International Quilt Festival takes place every fall in Houston’s convention center, bringing in quilts and quilters from all over the world.

“Dahlia My Dreams,” my quilt chosen for this book, was completed in 2004 and took me about nine months, from cutting the first squares through machine quilting the finished piece. It’s 62.5 inches by 60 inches.

My fractal series was inspired by my son, a computer programmer at Amazon.com, when he was still in high school. We designed the first one together, and I made it as a graduation present, though I’ve kept it and exhibited it in several shows, including the AQS show in Paducah, Ky., and the Quintessential Quilt in University City, Mo.

To make these quilts, I start with a computer-generated image of a fractal, choosing an image I like and blowing it up until I can see the individual pixels, then selecting a part that I think will make an interesting quilt. I then dye fabrics to match the colors, using a low-immersion dye technique. I generally use a one-inch square as my basic building block and construct the quilts in strips about 12 to 15 inches wide.

The book is just now hitting store shelves. (It’s already on Amazon.)

On Saturday, March 13, I will be signing books along with Pat Owoc, another St. Louis area quilter whose work is in the book. The signing is from 1:30 to 3:30 p.m. at The Quilted Fox in Frontenac, Mo. The shop is in Le Chateau, a complex of shops off Clayton Road just west of Lindbergh Boulevard.

One day my son and I tried everything – a diaper change, walking around with her, giving her a different toy, reading to her, all to no avail. Finally, though it wasn’t time for her to eat again, we decided to prepare a bottle.

It was like magic, and the expression on her face was total bliss. Her eyes closed and her hands relaxed, palms upturned in total enjoyment of the moment. We decided it would be perfect for a MasterCard commercial. It was truly priceless.

(This post was written in November. I just found it and decided to post it.)

The result is “Crumb Cake,” which I finally completed over the past weekend. The quilt is approximately 24 inches wide by 27.5 inches high. The quilting designs vary from block to block. I have had trouble capturing the detail of the quilting in the picture.

The top had been done since September, and I began quilting it, then lost interest in the project. I decided to apply myself this weekend and finished the very detailed quilting in silk thread, a technique I learned from Diane Gaudynski, a master of fine quilting.

The Sand Castles blocks I won in the Thimble & Thread Quilt Guild‘s optional block drawing last summer inspired me to make a few more blocks and put the quilt together quickly – perhaps too quickly.

The trouble began with the outer border. Because pink is not my favorite color, I didn’t have that much pink fabric in my stash. I had bought a rose print for the alternating blocks in the diagonally set quilt, but I had just enough for that. Besides, too many roses can be too much of a good thing.

I did, however, have an unusual print of interlocking hands that included the right shade of pink, plus some purple and other shades, and a quick assessment told me there was about the right amount of fabric for a border. However, as I measured the quilt, I decided the border needed to be a bit wider than I first planned. And that’s where the trouble came in. As I got to the last side of the quilt, it appeared that I was a few inches short. I had to piece the border in three places, even adding a small triangle to cover the inner corner.

Then, I began quilting with a spool of So Fine by Superior, a really thin polyester thread that I had used successfully in some other quilts. It would sew fine for a while, but then the thread would fray and break. I took the machine in for a check, but the mechanic apparently didn’t understand my problem and I had to take it back in.

He smoothed out a place on the foot that I thought was fraying the thread and took another look at the hook. He seemed to think the problem had to do with using too small a needle for the machine.

I bought some bigger needles, came home and the machine sewed fine for a while, but the fraying began again. It was slow going, and I put the quilt aside during the holidays. After New Year’s, I was determined to get it done.

Over the last week, I’ve done a lot of cursing as the thread frayed over and over again. I could find no obvious place on the machine that was abrading the thread. And unfortunately, I quilted in some folds of fabric on the back. But I was determined to finish this quilt and get it out of my life.

Finally, last night, I finished quilting the last border and applied the binding. Voila, it’s done! And I am so relieved.

As for the next project, I am going to make some blocks for Thimble & Thread Quilt Guild’s next charity project and go through some fabric bins to find fabric that can be used to back the quilt tops donated by Karel Owens. I encourage other members of my guild to do the same.

Even on a Friday between Thanksgiving and Christmas, traffic is sparse, with some mall walkers and a few intrepid shoppers. There’s a feeling that the storekeepeers are really glad you showed up.  And they’re even happier if you buy something.

There are a few holdovers from the traditional mall – Sears, Gap, Footlocker and Pasta House among them. I am amazed that any of them have stuck around with all the empty storefronts, and I wonder how long they’re going to hang around. Chevy’s closed its restaurant recently.

The artists are making a valiant effort. However, many of the shops were shuttered in the early afternoon, including the one in particular I’d come to see. I found John Heusler, who formerly ran Copernicus Jewelers in Webster Groves, trying to make a comeback in a space at least five times what he had before an illness forced him to close the Webster shop.The few shops that were open were mostly empty.

I’d like to say that ArtSpace is a very encouraging enterprise, but the jury is still out. One artist told me there’s a feeling that they’re only there because no developer has been able to raise the money to bulldoze the place and turn it into something else. And unless there’s more activity to draw visitors, I fear she may be right.

But the best colors were in my own neighborhood in  Webster Groves. I think it’s because we haven’t actually had a frost yet. My impatiens are still blooming – even in the hanging baskets. I haven’t had the heart to pull them up.

A neighbor’s maple tree has turned bright gold, tinged with orange in the last few days. The dogwood outside my bathroom window has added hues of orange and even some yellow to its dominant ruby red. And the white oak in front of our yard is getting a few red leaves along with some brownish yellow and the remaining green leaves. The elm on the west and the tulip poplar we planted 23 years ago are both golden.

The sweet gum in my parents’ back yard has been putting on a show for a couple of weeks, first turning a deep wine and then adding ruby, plum and yellow to its spiky lobed leaves. It had made a carpet of red behind the garage on Thursday. My mom, who shouldn’t have been mowing the lawn, didn’t have the heart to run the mower over the lovely leaves.

Unfortunately, the record rainfall we’ve had this year, and particularly this October, has taken its toll. I understand that farmers haven’t been able to get into the fields, and the bolls on cotton plants haven’t opened, leaving some farmers despairing about whether they’ll get anything to harvest.

Two huge oaks within two blocks of our home simply keeled over, exposing their roots and barricading driveways. Luckily, neither appeared to have hit houses or cars, though I’m sure the cost to remove them wasn’t small.

Last weekend, I hastily picked all the green tomatoes from the garden because of the threat of frost. So Saturday, I pulled up the plants, along with some shriveled peppers and browning basil. I’ll leave the zinnias and marigolds until the cold gets them, but I did manage to pull up the tomato stakes. It’s beginning to feel like the end of summer after all.

When my doctor asked me recently if I was stretching, I realized how little I knew about it.

He recommended “The Wharton’s Stretch Book,” by Jim and Phil Wharton and asked me to give it three weeks. He’s hoping it will help in managing pain and discomfort associated with arthritis.

The book arrived Saturday, and I started reading it, then set aside Sunday afternoon to go through the assessment of my stretching ability.

According to the book, it takes about two hours to do the assessment. I took a break after an hour, then another break after two hours and finally finished up while watching “60 Minutes.” There are 59 exercises in all.

I didn’t do horribly. I’ve always had reasonable flexibility, and I have been swimming several times a week for more than 37 years. But of course, there is a lot of room for improvement.

Tthe books says you should be able to run through their stretching routine in 20 minutes, tailoring the needed stretches for your preferred sport or daily activities.

“Get up 20 minutes early,” the book says.

It doesn’t point out that all 59 exercises are recommended for almost every sport and activitiy in the book – at least for the swimming, keyboarding and quilting that I do.

So far, I haven’t been able to get through more than about a half dozen of the stretches before I leave for work in the morning. I have to finish up in the evening, and it’s taking an hour or more to do them all. For now, that’s partly because I am not intimately familiar with all the stretches. But even so, I think there’s a little prevarication on how much time is actually required.

Granted, I do think there’s value in stretching. And I think even after a couple of days, I can feel a difference. I just hope it goes faster soon so I can get back to some of those daily activities I like to do.

If you’d like to see the Whartons in action, demonstrating some of their stretches, I found this video.

Over the years, the small bush grew into what is now a thorny thicket of quince spreading between their yard and that of their neighbor to the west.
In the spring, the quince thicket produces three colors of blossoms – the original rose, a pale pink and white. In the autumn, there are sometimes a few quinces, and in some years like this, an abundance of the hard, bitter fruit. They are lemon yellow, resembling small pears.
This year, my mother tried to ignore them, but my dad kept bugging her to make jelly. She decided to give in because he was taking an interest, looking up recipes on the Internet.
“Making jelly isn’t that hard, because they have so much natural pectin,” Mom said. “The hard part is getting them ready to cook.”
The quinces are hard, dense fruits. It takes some hacking to cut them up. She didn’t mention coring them, which is another chore. But Dad, who has been ill, helped her hack them up and they’d been cooking a while when I stopped by.
You boil the quinces in water until they’re soft, then mash them into something resembling thin applesauce. Then, you strain the pulp in a fine mesh strainer or through cheese cloth. This can take hours as the juice slowly seeps out of the pulp.
After straining most of the afternoon and evening Thursday, Mom had about 16 cups of juice. It takes nearly a cup of sugar to each cup of juice to make the amber jelly, which is still tart.
“I’m about to scream,” Mom said when I stopped by today. She was worn out after cooking and canning the jelly, with just a few jars still  to process in the hot water bath. I helped finish up and carry the jars downstairs, then sampled some with peanut butter at lunch.
Yield: 21 jars of various sizes, including the one in the picture.

Footnote: There are still plenty of quinces, if anyone else wants to tackle them.