Try it; you'll like it!

Dear You,

Because my mother showed me how to run a sewing machine when I was 14, I wound up four years ago stitching together some quilt blocks that kids in fifth grade created for a class project. That worked out okay, so I've gone on -- in addition to side projects, I've determined to make a quilt for each of The Twelve, as I term the dozen kids who call me Grandpa. Seven are done, and this morning I selected fabrics to begin one for Benjamin.

Isn't it the way so many habits are born? On some not otherwise remarkable day, you try something for the first time, and a couple of years later, you find it's part of your identity.

I still remember the little Kodak Brownie I got for Christmas in 1949, when I was just seven. Dad had learned darkroom techniques when he was in Italy, in the Army. He set us up in the kitchen, where after dark we turned on the yellow safelight as we swished the exposures through the chemicals and printed our pictures. Today I spend quite a bit of time -- now it's in color, and I print online or through my printer.

Am I a quilter? A photographer? Sure, those and more . . . and I'm starting to become curious about what I'll try tomorrow.