The grandson of William Bray Pinch - Randy Niemann and his wife Amy - have made the Rainbow Quilt Block Company (Cleveland, Ohio) patterns available once more. Mr. Pinch's company, founded in the mid-1920s sold colorful pre-printed quilt blocks that could be embroidered by color. He developed a printing process whereby the floss color was printed on the fabric and all you had to do is follow the color and make beautiful quilt blocks.
I met Amy in October of 2008 at their home in Cleveland. Mr. Pinch's only daughter (and Randy's mom), Verna, had saved boxes and more boxes of patterns, tools and equipment that she and her dad used to make the quilt blocks over the years. Amy graciously showed me a some of the perforated parchment patterns and wooden print rollers they had used.
The photo is of a poster (it's about 3x5-feet in size) that Randy recalls were like the ones hanging in the 4915 Wichita Avenue factory in Cleveland, Ohio when he was a young boy.
Amy spent months reproducing the original designs so quilters everywhere can make their own Rainbow quilt. See their web page for more history about the company and order patterns.
Friday, April 10, 2009
I found this poem earlier this year, called Crazy Quilt. It is by Don Blanding from his book Memory Room published in 1935. I will post the poem Memory Room seperately - not quilt related, by it is a wonderful read and goes well with the Crazy Quilt poem.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Here is the poem, The Crazy Quilt, published in the October 25, 1890 issue of Good Housekeeping magazine, on page 310. It is written to the tune of the Star Spangled Banner. It is quite a hoot. Enjoy.
The Crazy Quilt
Oh, say, can you see by the dawn's early light,
What you failed to perceive at the twilight's last gleaming;
A crazy concern that through the long night
O'er the bed where you slept was so saucily streaming;
The silk patches so fair,
Round, three-cornered and square
Gives proof that the lunatic bed-quilt is there.
Oh, the crazy-quilt mania triumphantly raves,
And maid, wife, and widow are bound as its slaves.
On that quilt dimly seen as you rouse from your sleep
Your long-missing necktie in silence reposes,
And the filoselle insects that over it creep,
A piece of your vest half-conceals, half discloses;
There is Kensington-stitch
In designs that are rich,
Snow-flake, arrasene, point russe and all sich.
Oh, the crazy-quilt mania, how long will it rave?
And how long will fair woman be held its slave?
And where is the wife who so vauntingly swore
That nothing on earth her affections could smother?
She crept from your side at the chiming of four
And is down in the parlor at work on another.
Your breakfasts are spoiled,
And your dinners half-boiled,
And your efforts to get a square supper are foiled
By the crazy-quilt mania that fiendishly raves,
And to which all the women are absolute slaves.
And thus it has been since the panic began,
In many loved homes it has wrought desolation,
And cursed is the power by many a man,
That has brought him so close to the verge of starvation,
But make it she must,
She will do it or bust,
Beg, swap, and buy pieces or get them on trust,
Oh, the crazy-quilt mania, may it soon cease to rave
In the land of the free and the home of the brave.