Dance, dance, doll of mine!

Dance, dance, doll of mine!
Girl doll's dress is very fine.
Boy doll is a dandy, too;
He wears gloves and hat and shoe;
White pants, blue coat, him adorn;
On his toe he has a corn.
He is fine and she is fine.
Dance, dance, doll of mine!
Old doll's name is Lise-moér;
She is from the year before;
Hair is new; it's made of flax,
Forehead polished up with wax.
Young again, not old and done.
Come along, my cherished one,
Let us dance a fast gavotte;
To watch it is worth a lot.
Dance, dance, doll of mine!
Watch your steps and get in line;
One foot forward; watch your feet.
Dancing makes you slender, sweet.
Bow and twist and turn around;
That will make you hale and sound.
What a sight it is to see!
You are doing fine, all three.

Baby hedgehoges

The hedgehog in my garden
Is a mother 

she kept it as a secret

But here children want to see the world
I think she has 4 little ones
when I get the change I will make more pictures

they are so cute

Stitching on sunday

Oh elegant grace
Still the waters of the lake
Majesty passes 

sudden evening rain
splashes chill on windowglass
wrinkles on the quilt

Octablom

A little bit Jude a Little bit Mom
together in the octablom quilt

The Spider

The spider weaves a sticky web
To capture bugs to eat.
What keeps the spider's sticky web
From sticking to her feet?
Spider webs are very tricky
Because not all the strands are sticky.
Unlike the passing hapless fly,
The spider knows which strands are dry.
But if she accidentally stands
Upon one of the sticky strands,
She still would not get stuck, you see--
Her oily body slides off free.

Amy Goldman Koss

Dare To Dream

I do not need here for this quilt
she is only in the picture because she is  beautiful

Let nothing hold you back from
exploring your wildest fantasies,
wishes, and aspirations.
Don't be afraid to dream big
and to follow your dreams
wherever they may lead you.
Open your eyes to their beauty;
open your mind to their magic;
open your heart to their possibilities.
Dare to dream

In my Garden

in a land of fantasy so beautiful and free
where everthing was magical as lovely as can be
there was a purple hedgehog as friendly as can be
he lived in the woods underneath a tree
there were little ladybirds having lots of fun
dancing there so happily underneath the sun
the stars were made of diamonds twinkling in the night
underneath the moon shining oh so bright
the grass was just like velvet so beautiful to see
everything was peaceful so beautiful and free
in this land of fantasy is where i long to be.

September

"The breezes taste
Of apple peel.
The air is full
Of smells to feel-
Ripe fruit, old footballs,
Burning brush,
New books, erasers,
Chalk, and such.
The bee, his hive,
Well-honeyed hum,
And Mother cuts
Chrysanthemums.
Like plates washed clean
With suds, the days
Are polished with
A morning haze. "
-  John Updike, September

Vote for woman

As early as the 1600’s

Many women had a great dream

They wanted to vote in an election one day

Most men didn’t think it was right

They believed women should stay at home

But the women didn’t agree

They wanted the same rights as men

All over the globe this was happening

But the men never changed their minds

They made petitions and protested all day

Finally in 1920

The women of the United States

Gained the right to vote

Finally they got what they wanted

Slowly women all over the world gained the right to vote

By the end of World War two

Almost all women in the world

Had the ability to vote 

a quilt and a story

http://grandmotherschoice.blogspot.nl/
If you like to make a quilt go ,
but you must go for the story,s
 it must not be forgotten  these strong women fighting to vote

One: The Hunger Strike (Constance speaks) 
 
   Locked in my cell, I am as cold as snow: 
   the high-pitched ache before numbness sets in. 
   Cold tests our barriers, tests our resolve. 
   I rinse my mouth with water, do not drink. 
 
   Aged ten, I saw the massive, cypress slopes 
   suddenly parting on the brilliant peaks 
   where, so our natives said, Lord Shiva lives. 
   He tests our barriers, tests our resolve. 
 
   In prison, we are blue-shadowed, deadly white. 
   The blush of sunrise flashes like a blade. 
   I am the will that holds me in this light. 
   My flesh wastes like a block of melting ice. 
 
   I tie my skirt around my neck for warmth 
   and feed upon the smells of what they bring. 
   My nightmares fill with slaughtered animals. 
   I dream of jasmine garlanding a tree. …