Remember that movie? Well, I think it is the perfect title for a thread about funny things that happen to us quilters. I hope Kim and the moderators agree. Wasn't sure where to put it, have no objection to it being moved if there is a better spot.

About six weeks ago I lost/misplaced my favorite pair of Fisker scissors. I looked for them for days, and finally decided I needed to do some serious cleaning. I did find a pair of Gingher dressmaking shears and another of Fiskers, but not the pair I wanted. The ones I wanted are spring-loaded to reduce fatigue in the hand. Because I have carpel tunnel and arthritis, I use them almost exclusively.

Finally decided that they must have been on the cutting table or by the sewing machine and that one of the cats had jumped up and inadvertently knocked them into the trash. In which case they were long gone to the landfill so gave up looking.

Now in the corner of my bedroom, near the door, there is a straight back chair with antique tops folded and stacked on it. I walk past it ten, twenty times a day. Last night when I got up from the computer and started out the door, guess what was lying on the chair with the tops? Yup! The missing scissors!

I know I would have seen them before, and more importantly, I would never have laid scissors with antique tops! Evidently, I have a quiltergeist at work here, and I think her name is Kate. My beloved sister has been very active since her birthday in March, just about the time the scissors went missing. I have been trying to get some projects done and use up some of her fabric. She is always active when I use her fabric, just her way of letting me know she is around.

When I went through her stuff, some I could tell immediately what her vision was, and I have tried to complete them as closely as I think she wanted, but some stuff has left me baffled so when I find a place where it can be used I try to incorporate it. Eveidently, she doesn't like the way I am using this and is finding ways to delay its completion! LOL

Oh that is weird-but-in-a-nice-way Meg. I assume your sister has passed on? Must be nice to know she's still around.

I had an odd experience a few years ago, not directly connected with quilting, although quilting does come into it. I was in my office at work, and had been working fairly intensively on a report for a couple of hours, then I started to feel a bit stiff so decided to take a break for a few minutes. I sat back in my chair, looked up at the window, and then suddenly I was myself, sitting in my office, wide awake, but at the same time I was a woman in late middle age sitting in a room in a farmhouse sewing English hexagonal patchwork. I could feel the different thicknesses of material between my fingers and the patches curving into the palm of my hand. Then I noticed my right arm was twitching, and when I looked down I saw that my fingers had closed up as if they were holding a needle, and my arm was trying to move itself to start sewing. It seemed to be late winter/early spring because I could see rain on the window and bare trees and fields, and judging from the furniture in the room the time period was the first half of the 20th century. This lasted for a few minutes and then gradually faded away.

The trigger seemed to be the window – the one in her room was the same size/shape and in the same position relative to her as mine was to me, and that coupled with the fact that my conscious mind was temporarily "switched off" allowed the experience to come through. I've "been" her several times since then – once when she was sitting in the garden on a hot summer afternoon and then again when she was walking to church one Good Friday morning, plus a few other less dramatic experiences. Unfortunately there's been nothing for about the last year or so. I wish she'd come back!

Jane

WOW!!! I like this thread!!! I've had some similar experiences. Years ago I was trying to find a quilt top that I knew I had. It was made by my grandma's 1st cousin. Her nephew gave it to me when I helped clean out her house and set up for the auction. I had stored it in a box in a bedroom at my grandmother's house (the house we later fixed up for my daughter and family.) Anyway, I looked numerous times in that room for that top - the box was still there, but there was no quilt top in it. So I forgot about it. Maybe 6 to 8 months later I just happened to be in that room looking for something else and opened the box that the quilt top had been in - and GUESS WHAT!! There it was, folded up just like I'd put it away. I have no idea where it was when I tried to find it earlier - or why it wasn't in the box!

Much more recently - last Fall, I believe it was - I was doing some hand quilting on a baby quilt. Like Jane, I was suddenly transported - to a New England village - not sure where except that it was near the sea - in a late-1700's home. I knew the era from the way the ladies were dressed. We were all sitting around a huge quilt frame that was suspended from the ceiling. It was a rustic home, very primative, although not a log cabin - more like a "saltbox" style home - seemed to be a fairly well-to-do family - not wealthy, but not extremely poor either. I was sitting with these ladies working on a large quilt and I was dressed just like they were. Seemed to me that it was sort of a "Dutch" style of dress (as from the Netherlands, not Germany). I did have quite a few ancestors from the Netherlands and they did live in the New England area, so I assume I was visiting some of my ancestors. It was so peaceful there I really hated to leave! But after a few minutes, it all faded away and I was back in my grandmother's house next door working on the baby quilt again.

Nola

You know, Nola, there is a theory that when our spirit is reincarnated, we tend to come back in the same families. My mother is convinced that she and I have been together through several lifetimes, although not always as mother and daughter. Since I believe in theology and science, I find this a pausible explnation, Since energy cannot be destroyed, but only changed in form, it makes perfect sense to me.

Meg, it's so great to find someone else who believes as I do! I believe in reincarnation also.

Another experience I had - in fact I've had it several times - I was living in a woodland Indian village somewhere in Ohio or Pennsylvania. I could see that village so clearly - the drying racks with meat hanging on them, deer hides stretched in frames, small fires in front of the wig-wams. All this happened BEFORE I found the genealogical link that ties me to Martin Chartier, a French Canadian trapper-trader who married a Shawnee Indian woman. His daughter married into a line that my Grandpa DeBolt descended from. So apparently in another life, I really did live in a Shawnee Indian village.

Nola

Anyone want to chat for a few....?

Hey Quiltsrfun! Sorry I didn't get to the chat room last night! Would love to have chatted with you. Feel free to email or PM me if you want to chat sometime.

Nola

Meg, I believe like your mother - that we come back to live with the same families in other lives. I have a favorite cousin that I am very strongly connected with. He is the son of my Mom's older sister (she was my fav. aunt.) It's something I can't really explain but I feel that in another life this cousin and I were more closely connected than just cousins - maybe brother/sister. His Mom used to asked me, "Are you sure you aren't one of my kids? You act just like Jim!"

Maybe in another life????? What I feel for Jim is deeper than just a cousin - but not like husband/wife - more like bro/sis - or (as much as I hate the term) a "soul mate". I hate that term because it's so overused, and generally in the context of a sexual partner. Actually, a soul mate can be anyone you are very deeply connected to - doesn't have to be anything carnal about it!

There is also a half-brother of my great-grandfather that I'm fascinated by. He was in the cavalry in the west and was a member of the group that took part in the horrible Sand Creek Massacre (Uncle Lorenzo wasn't involved as he was escorting some Indian chiefs to Denver at the time). Even tho' no one in my family ever knew anything about this half-great-great uncle, I feel a very strong connection to him. I didn't learn anything about him until I found my great-great-grandfather's estate records - then couldn't figure out who Lorenzo DeBolt was!
Funny thing is, after a lot of investigating, I discovered that Uncle Lorenzo and his family lived in Georgetown, Colorado (back in the 1870's). In 1959 my family took a trip through the west and we spent a night in Georgetown - but at that time, we knew nothing about Lorenzo - had never even hear of him. But there was something about that town that was rather spooky - something I couldn't identify at the time (of course I was only 14 then) - but now I realize that it probably had something to do with this strange connection I feel with Uncle Lorenzo.

OK - I'm off now to pay bills, then do some sewing - before everyone thinks I'm totally nutso!!!

Nola

Its interesting that I should find this thread tonight. My parents have just been here for dinner for my son's birthday, and as the boys played the latest PS3 game Liam got as a gift, we sat down and looked through some family books that tell the stories of some our ancestors.

Looking through the old photos is a treat as you see glimpses of yourself and your children...how much my sister looks like our Great-great Grandmother Elizabeth Du Rieu with that delicate little chin, and how my DD shares her haughty frown with her Great great-grandmother Annie Maude Coulter. But what delights me the most is the character of the people. My Grandmother was a determined strong willed woman who ruled her family with energy and wisdom. She had been widowed with 10 children when her youngest was 5 months old. She was scary and she was wonderful, as all Grandmothers should be. Nan had very firm opinions and was always right! So when I learned that one of our ancestors was burnt at the stake as an heretic because she refused to convert to Catholicism I knew exactly where my Grandmother had got her strength and determination from. It makes me smile every time I think of it, Nan was just the type of person to unimpressed by anyone else's power and demand to do things her way. I do miss her.

We are the sum of all that comes before us, and I'm delighted to be a part of a long line of incredible women ...though I've never experienced that psychic link to my past I like to think its out there.

Gosh, this has made me feel quite sad. I miss my Nan, she is the person who taught me to enjoy sewing so much. As is the way with Grandmothers' she was always much more patient than my mother who was always so busy working and running a home.

I wrote this poem a couple of years after Nan died...I had made a crochet rug for a raffle at our family Australia Day picnic and I wanted something to reflect how crocheting was important in our family.

The Crochet Rug

Back and forth the hook did flow
As I visited memories from long ago
With Nana Dans at the dining table
Thinking that I'd never be able
To master this peculiar stitch
Or finish a row without a hitch

With patience and love Nana guided me through
Teaching me just what to do
With scraps of wool so bright and bold
The hook and yarn to correctly hold
And slowly but surely to my delight
My skills improved till I got it right

Now looking back over time
As I pen this little rhyme
I think of all that Nana taught
So much more than I had sought
'Don't be afraid to try something new'
'Persist at things and see them through'

And the lesson learned I like the best
More important than all the rest
Is that the gift of time in beyond compare
When spent with someone with love to share
And now when I snuggle into a crochet rug
I feel the warmth Nana's hug.

Sorry to inflict my folksy poetry on you. I must be feeling very sentimental indeed. I'm off to bed. Sweet dreams.

Melita

Melita thank you so very much for sharing such special memories of your Nan. The poem is wonderful {{{{{{Melita}}}}}}} theres a hug for you

Jacqui