A Quick Half Inch of Snow!

When the curtains were opened this morning, it revealed that the quick half inch of snow, predicted by our weatherman, had grown into three or four inches that coated all the wires and tree branches in sight.  Because it was so beautiful, I almost didn't mourn for spring.  But alas, where are you spring?

The snow plow came rumbling down the road and then I knew it was going to be a quilting day in the basement again.

Yesterday, I attempted to organize my material and was making some progress when I got sidetracked, imagine that, by two UFOs that also contain snow.

1st Snow Project:

The first UFO was a scrappy "enders and leaders" quilt set off by "Kona Snow" material.  Most quilters are familiar with Kona solids, but in case you are not, the nice thing about them is that if you use up a Kona Solid and have to buy more, it should match up with color dyes.  This holds true for all colors, not just white or "snow."

This enders and leaders project will be a baby quilt when finished.  It's made with a lot of leftover I-Spy material.

2nd Snow Project

The Second UFO/snow project is my flannel snowman quilt that was pieced at the cabin in November.  It was patiently waiting for me to add the binding.  So yesterday, I did just that and am in the process of turning it, and therefore, finishing it.

Is it superstitious to imagine that as soon as this "snowman" quilt is finished, spring will arrive?

Poems help me to keep things in perspective, so here is part of a poem about a late spring.  You can find the rest of the poem on the Poetry Foundation Page.

"The Late Wisconsin Spring" by John Koethe

Snow melts into the earth and a gentle breeze   

Loosens the damp gum wrappers, the stale leaves   

Left over from autumn, and the dead brown grass.   

The sky shakes itself out. And the invisible birds   

Winter put away somewhere return, the air relaxes,   

People start to circulate again in twos and threes.   

The dominant feelings are the blue sky, and the year.   

—Memories of other seasons and the billowing wind;   

The light gradually altering from difficult to clear

As a page melts and a photograph develops in the backyard.  . . .