I would begin with the weight and cottony fragrance of the quilts we've made, an "All Hands Around" on the bed, a big log cabin in rainbow colors against black on the wall. In sixteen years we've made twelve quilts, used up one, burned a hole in another. In the winter we use two or three for warmth, and the first thing I see in teh morning, in the white light of our whitewashed bedroom, is the clashing colors of the quilts spilling away from me over teh bed. Then under my feet, I feel teh smooth-painted floorboards. The windows are uncurtained and unshaded, usually flat gray with morning fog. All of this is familiar and comforting.
~ from Ordinary Love & Good Will by Jane Smiley
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