The 100th post and I have nothing to write.

Don't ask me why I have black ink on my thumbs. It will not make any sense.

This is my 100^th post and I don’t know what to write. 100 is huge; I wanted it to be super and then I have been at a loss about what to write.

My initial thought was to write a quilting post.

The first time ever that I heard about blogging was when I started searching the internet for quilting and sewing project, so it kind of seemed fair.

And then last month my Aunt (mother's sister), who made me fall in love with quilting, (I called her Mummy, everyone called her Mummy) passed away. Mummy was 86 and no, she was not old. She was a quilter and the best I have known. While I was probably her most pampered niece, the best gift that she ever gave me was quilting.

Yes, she was my inspiration for quilting. Seeing her quilt and seeing her quilts as a child was what drew me to this wonderful art of quilting. She was the only one in the family, I could discuss quilts with. Our last conversation too had been about the beauty of traditional Log Cabin quilts and how it was her favourite pattern.

 And so, her death brought in a huge void into my life. Until… Untill I realised that a quilter never dies.

Made by Mummy

I wake up each morning and there is the appliqué wall hanging that Mummy made, hanging on my bathroom door.

I open Ri’s cupboard to get him dressed and there is the quilted organiser that she gave me when Ri was born.

I get into the car and there is the lovely Log Cabin quilt she made that I use as a lap quilt every time the car gets cold. (That is almost all the time.)

Yes,  a quilter never dies. She lives through her art and the love that she has gifted you all the while. I know it is surreal, but she does live on.

This is the last wall hanging she made.

The beautiful trapunto quilting

***

Talking of surreal, I realised that I haven’t updated you guys about this story:

Remember the kitchen ghost, well, he seems to have moved in to my bathroom. And he has got friendlier and actually says “Hello” to me every time I am done peeing.

The first time I heard that deep hollow ‘hello’, almost in my ear, I must admit, I was pretty startled. I was brushing my teeth and I almost swallowed the toothpaste when I heard it.

The second time I heard him, it was past mid night. I opened the door; woke SSM up and asked if he heard anyone say ‘hello’. He grunted something which sounded like ‘Oh you are so kind’ and I felt really happy. I said thank you and went of to sleep. When I reminded him the next morning about how kind I was, he said that he had asked ‘are you out of your mind?’ (I don’t think he remembers. people usually do not remember what they say in their sleep.)

The next time, I was quite sure that it was my kitchen ghost because I hadn't felt his presence around the kitchen for a long time. And so, I started diligently replying to his greeting.

And then one day this happened.

Me: (walking out of the bathroom, turning back toward the bathroom) Hey there, hello to you too!

SSM: Erm… What was that?

Me: What?

SSM: I just heard you talk to… no one… in the bathroom.

Me: Oh, that. That is not no one. I was exchanging pleasantries with the bathroom ghost.

SSM: (after taking a deep breath and a long pause) You might want to explain.

Me: There is nothing to explain. There is this really nice ghost in the bathroom who, I think is in love with me, and says hello to me in a really sexy baritone. So I just think it is polite to reply.

SSM: Oh my God, you have completely lost it this time.

Me: What? No! Serious! He does. It is true.

A few days later SSM and I were in the bathroom together. (Groan, No! You perverts! He had done peeing and I had entered the bathroom to brush) And that is when the ghost greeted me again.

Me: (all excited) There! There! Did you hear that. Did you hear the ghost say ‘hello’.

SSM: Yes. Yes. I did. That… your ghost…is not a ghost. There is a problem in the cistern. It makes that sound few seconds after you've flushed. Did you not realise that all this while.

Me: That is a lie! Oh dear. The poor ghost lives in the cistern.

SSM: NO! There is no ghost. It is the sound the cistern makes. STOP IMAGINING THINGS!

Me: YOU ARE JUST JEALOUS THAT THE GHOST HAS A CRUSH ON ME! DAMN YOU!

SSM sighed and left. I am at peace with my ghost. I have kept this ghost stories book in the bathroom for him to read. Staying in the cistern can be quite boring. I also read it aloud to him some times. I think that makes him happy. His ‘hello’ definitely seems happier.

***

And talking about ghosts, I have to tell you guys that I have been extremely impressed by Facebook. Ever since I realised that Facebook can sense the presence of ghosts and spirits, my respect for Facebook has gone up drastically.

 I mean who could have thought that while I was trying to upload this picture on Facebook, it would actually ask me to tag a ghost in a banyan tree. Super impressed! I only wish it had done a face recognition and identified the ghost for me too. Tagging would have been easier. So I just ended up tagging it as Gechho Bhoot.

***

And so, since this is supposed to be my 100^th post, and I really had nothing much to write, I will just post this video of  Ri singing a song from the movie 'Patalghar'. I wish my blog a happy 100^th post.

And thank you, all my readers for loyally reading this crappy blog and showering so much love. I really love you all, much more than I love ghosts. (Okay, that last bit is a lie, but I do love you a lot)