Saturday, March 5, 2011
WWII in Braids
More of these sun puddles are cropping up and am I happy! Look how nice I look against the braided rug!
It was pretty torn and dirty when Julie purchased it at a garage sale, but it became part of my novel. Wait 'til you hear its story revealed in this scene when parishioners Beth and Foster came over to visit:
"Her mother made it? The whole thing?"
Beth admired the stitchwork and the rhythmic colors in the braiding as it swirled around in an Americana display--deep reds, blues and a rich green woven along the edge. In its center, each color broke up into speckles, clipped and scattered like confetti. It wasn't just functional, it was a work of art, and hard work at that. The entire rug had to be at least eight feet wide and thick.
"Beautiful!" Beth moved her feet over to the side. "I hate to step on it!"
"Look closely at the dark green part around the outside of the rug," Will pointed out.
"What about it, Will?"
"Mary Lou's mother took her father's World War II uniform and weaved it into the rug."
Foster and Beth looked closer at the outer ring and the deep green of the army wool.
"Talk about recycling," Will said.
"That's a really special rug." Foster had done his share of military service and preserving memories like this was as unique as he'd ever seen.
The part about the army uniform was not made up. That is actually what is sewn along the edge. If you were to count the "braids," from center to edge, you would find 57. You didn't know I could count, did you? The rug measures over nine feet diagonally. According to its previous owner, it was entirely hand-braided and sewn together by his mother.
It's a very special rug, I know, but it took me the longest time not to sharpen my claws on it. Talk about ballistic! Mary Lou went nuts the first time I stretched with my claws extended.
Imagine if cats could make things like this. I might have thumbs, but I wouldn't even try. I'll just have to sit on it to make it look its best!