Let’s get this straight. I hate hexagon patchwork. Cutting papers. Laborious tacking, the still more laborious hand-stitching, one edge at a time, whipstitching, gripping the little cardboardy things. Hate hexagons.
So why would I be sitting here with a pile of hexagons in front of me? Tacking? Whipstitching?
Auntie Lula started it. Years ago. And now her daughter, knowing I quilt, has given me this bag. Auntie Lula. Brownies, rich and warm on a cold winter day. Hands that taught me to sew, to cook.
And so, in summer sun, I sit and sew her hexagons, finishing what she began.