Get out your colored pencils, markers, paints or crayons! Color this quilt and send it to Frances at the Ninepatch mailing address!

Have fun!!


Following are comments from the first week in June, when the topic was,“Between the ages of seven and twelve, I lived…”.

Stargazer III (June ‘19) said,“…in Grandmother’s house at 610 First Street in Woodland, California, then Oakland, California, next near the University of Nevada, reno, then 310 Kenilworth Ave., Duluth, Minnesota and finally in Collinsville, Illinois!”


Christa (Jan.’18) said, “…in two different places in two towns that were right next to each other. That meant I stayed in the same schools, but moving was tough. We went from a whole house to a tiny half-house apartment.”


Frances Fritzie (Editor) said, “ … at 410 East Douglas Street, Goshen, Indiana in a large brown-shingled, three-bedroom bath and a half house. We moved there when I started third grade. The move was only half a mile, but having that half bath was really helpful! I still drive by every now and then. Ah, memories!”


Elaine (See her FABRICS story) said, “… on Sunset Blvd. and then on South Eighth Street, both in Goshen, Indiana. Mom and Dad built the house on South Eighth Street and paid CASH!”


Liz /Moascar (June ‘19) wrote, “I lived in Marlow, Buckingham-shire by the river Thames, England. I attended primary school in a WWII steel Nissen (Quonset) Hut that was in the middle of a beech woods. We often took ‘nature walks’ to admire spring flowers.” ?

Georgene (See her comment on MONTHLY QUESTION) posted, “… in Colorado Springs, Colorado for ages 7-8, Pueblo, Colorado for 9-12 and a few more years beyond that, too!” 


Georgene (June ‘19) responded to our question, “If I could talk to my younger self, I would say….” She wrote, “I would tell my younger self, ‘Calm down and think about what you really want. Stop creating a fantasy version of events that result in ”should have and could have” self- talk. Concentrate on what really happened, take responsibility for your part and make new choices to get you where you want to be. Don’t wimp out!’

Actually, that is what I did when I started therapy and spiritual direction in my late thirties into my early forties. I’ve done quite well for the last twenty years or more.”


Linda Rosenthal (June ‘19) has this comment on the topic of talking to one’s younger self.Ah…I could write a novel on the subject.  I would begin telling my young self about that ritual that our women’s group used to do at the end of our meetings. (Remember, Frances?)  We would say the words, ‘You are so-and-so, daughter of (fill-in-the-blank,) and you are perfect just as you are.’  As I recall, we would gently touch another’s forehead chakra as we said the words.  That is where I would start with my younger self. 

Then, I would tell her that she can get that electronics degree that she wants. She doesn’t need to be a man to accomplish it, despite what others are telling her. 

I would talk about the challenges that she will face and how I would be there for her throughout them.  I would also tell her to consider the military as an option. Maybe that would help with her confidence problem.  I would tell her that someday she will have confidence, but seek it sooner through counseling. 

I would hug her, a lot.  I can’t talk about this anymore, I’m starting to tear up.  Sorry.”


If I could talk to my younger self, I would say…” will continue and a new call to sharing will join it: “If you were trapped in a TV show for a month, which TV show would it be and why?”

Like the RCA dog, Nipper, in the old ads of the 40s and 50s, Ninepatch has our ears cocked for your response!

RCA's Nipper

RCA’s Nipper


LindaSue colored this quilt.

colored this quilt.

I went to a funeral the other day

Something strange was at play

Everyone was smiling I saw

Even down to the distant in-law

What could account for this behavior?

Didn’t someone just meet

their maker?

Memories of a life well spent

Could not darken this event

Fabulous stories and pictures

all revealed

Events and celebrations of a life

well heeled…

Not in money, but love of family

and friends

Like Love from above,

that just never ends

They were celebrating

the continuation of a life

Which was now surpassing

its final strife.

Simon Stargazer III (June ‘19) adds, “My seventh older brother died earlier this year, and I drove to near Peoria last weekend for the celebration of his life. I have one brother left. He lives in California and supports himself by house sitting for millionaires! (He spends winters in Mexico, too. It must be nice!)”


Too many lives

Hang unbalanced,
Though the sky forever
Waits in blue

For what we never know,
Time has no planned

For-whence we-entered,
Nor-when-we leave.

Have flowers growing
In gardens—
They fade,
And die.

But we know better
When they leave us,
Our vases still filled
With water,
Emptied are replaced,
With new life flowers

What we can never

Do is replace a friend.

Gayle Bluebird (June ‘19) adds, “Flowers are easy to re-place with new flowers and a change of water, a bit of work and challenge.  But replacing a friend is never easy, certainly not replicable.  The message of this poem is to hang on to beauty, and to friends as fiercely as possible because they will not always be with us.  (Join me on my Face-book page for more poems.)


This book by Marie Benedict follows the life and career of Mileva Maric, who became Mrs. Albert Einstein. A Serbian girl whose father encourages her education, partly because she was born with a limp, and the family believes no one will marry her.

        She is accepted at the University of Zurich. She is the only girl in the physics class and the professor does not hide his contempt. She works hard and excels over her male peers. Albert Einstein is clearly taken with her.

        Albert and Mileva have a wonderful courtship and he treats her as an intellectual equal. They work together and she becomes pregnant with a daughter.

        The premise of this story is that Mileva discovered the Theory of Relativity. They co-wrote the paper though he later removed her name without her knowledge. He publishes all their work under his name only. He becomes increasingly bitter and vindictive. Mileva wants a divorce but that is not an easy thing in the early 1900’s.

June Poucher (June ‘19) adds: “This is the story of one of the most overlooked women of science.”

Never discard an option

Never discard an option, for options lead us to the pathways of our lives.

James (June ‘19) adds, “Options make choices more interesting.”


In 1981 Mount St. Helens blew it’s top. I was six years old when that happened and I remember watching all

of the TV footage. The whole side of the mountain blew off into a pyroclastic flow. It basically levelled trees

for miles and miles and killed about ten people.

Today most of the trees that were levelled and the wildlife have come back into the area. And tourists are back visiting the national park that is there.
September 11th was a terrible day in history. I also watched TV as the towers collapsed. I heard stories of heroes and sacrifices firemen and policemen made to help people who were hurting.

Years back my pastor shared the story of a NYC Port Authority Boatlift operation. In the midst of the 9-11 tragedy, the captains of many of the Port Authority Boats saw all the people standing on the Manhattan Island shore wanting to brought to safety. Those captains made trip after trip, carrying many people off the island. That was another true story of 9/11 heroism.

And five years ago, I read a book written by the Lisa Beamer, widow of Flight 93 “Let’s roll!” hero Todd Beamer. She told how the whole circumstance of his heroic passing brought her to a strong relationship with Jesus Christ.
Whenever there is a massive tragedy, whether it’s man-made or natural, new life is going to come out of it. Good will always come out of it.

I believe someday we are all going to stand in front of the lord look back at our lives. We will be shown how God used many of our struggles and trials for His greater good.

Bookworm (June ‘19) adds, “The purpose of our lives is to do good, create life and bless others.”


I’ve been working on scrap books of “leftover photos” of our family, pets, and some friends. I probably threw out close to two hundred before I could tackle the project.

I have a low tolerance for this kind of work, so my progress is slow. Once I got into the work, I threw out some of the album covers and bought three-ring binders to place the inserts. Definitely a choice of function over form.

I have pictures of my parents, my mother and her second husband together, and also my husband’s older relatives who came over from Europe. (Sadly, my kids don’t seem to have much interest in relatives they never knew.) I also have photos of myself and some handsome pictures of my husband. I doubt my kids have seen any of them.

I started this project February 2019 but I burned out on the project. In the last two weeks I attacked the photos again and finished three albums!

Now I’m down to a category I’ve named “miscellaneous.” I haven’t come up with a way to organize these pictures and started stressing about it. So, I’ve tidied up the piles and they are now back in the guest room waiting for me to find inspiration.

Elaine (June ‘19) adds, “I so wanted to conquer this project, but I reached a point where my organizational skills failed me.”


Remember when hurricanes were given only women’s names? I have a vague memory of women’s groups protesting the tyranny, gender bashing and disrespect of naming these unforgetable storms after women. It was bad enough women have been stereotyped for centuries as naggers and gossips and divided as either bad or good, or judged by how well they cooked or kept house.

In years past, romance novels pushed this to the extreme, as did TV shows and ads. (Imagine wearing pearls and high heels while cooking or cleaning the house!) Adding men’s names to the hurricane list was a cause for female celebration.

But gender contentions aside, I was watching a weather report recently that showed some name that started with “Q.” The capitalized name kept appearing on the bottom bar of the screen. I stared at the word trying to figure out where the town was located – or had I even heard of this town. Or, was it a town? It certainly wasn’t a county or country.

Later I realized that this Q-name was one the weather forecasters had given a winter storm. Yep. We’ve gone from naming chickens of the sea, to giving handles to hurricanes, to putting the dunce-naming cap on winter storms. Winter storms.

These wind and snow events are the harsher ones that regularly occur. They are not equal to twisters, tornadoes and hurricanes which can be and are life-changing.

You know what I’m waiting for? These local snow squalls and thunder showers that dance across the pastures, fields, and mountains here to get tagged with names. I mean, “Good gosh, there goes Andrew. Wait! Can’t use that one. It’s in the hurricane file and was discontinued.”

I can suggest a few for this trend: the Sasquashed Squall, the Susquehanna Succatash Shower, the Accidental Flurries-for-the-Moment, the Fly-Bye Ghost … .

Think I might get a copyright on these names?

Malaina (June ‘19) adds, “The gender-naming changes occurred back in –let me see –the1980s. The most

dangerous hurricanes I can remember off the top of my brain are Hurricanes Andrew, Charlie, Frederick and Ivan. I lived in North Alabama with my family back in the 1970s. The area was called Tornado Alley for a reason! Fast forward to the early 2000s. One day, my son brought home a book titled Night of the Twister from one of those terrible funnels.