Ada S Poors Property

Years ago while on a historic district home tour, I saw what appeared to be the inside cover of a book hanging alone on the wall of a small bedroom. A childish pencil drawing of a dog was scrawled on it, and the rough edges of one side hinted that it had been torn from the binding. The pencil drawing was crude, obviously the work of a child. Scribbling on books seems to be something all children do. I was taken with the concept of using a simple thing like a marked up book cover as artwork, and loved the way it perfectly complemented the simple Shaker style furnishings of the bedroom. From that point, every time I went thrift shop shopping, I looked for old books that had been defaced in some way, so that I could make a similar wall hanging.

One day I found a cover with the inscription, "Ada's S Poors Property" written in it. I put an adhesive hanger on the back and then added this small art quilt that I had made months before. The subject seemed to fit Ada's declaration perfectly!

The Story of Garnet

Last year I started a Halloween-themed fabric art book about a girl named Garnet. I've done a few pages, and plan to finish up before Halloween this year. Here is a preview of the fabric book. The narrative is contained on tags included on each page.


Garnet was a normal girl until one scary night when she witnessed strange and wondrous things. After that night, she felt a calling to sorcery and all things spooky. She sometimes went into the woods and practiced spell casting.

The house on the corner was haunted. Everyone knew that. Garnet lived in this house with her three aunts, Bertha, Brunhilde, and Gertrude, said to be witches by the townspeople. Strange shadows played at the windows, and the house had an eerie glow about it.

When Garnet was 15, she began her witch training in earnest. Learning to use a flying broom was Garnet's most difficult task. She was not a natural, and she suffered crash after crash.

Bertha -- Spell Caster, Brunhilde--Coven Leader, Gertrude--Hedge witch.

What Witches Do

The witches don their pointed hats,

The witches croak and croon,

The witches ride their broomsticks

Away beyond the moon.

The witches don their flowing cloaks,

The witches stir their brew,

The witches chant their magic spell,

All the dark night through.

The witches stroke their big black cats,

They comb their locks of gray,

Yet when the first, faint daylight comes,

The witches hide away.

~ Unknown