Ever since I retired (funny word that means my career ended, but not the work) my wife and I have talked about moving into a condo. No more snow-shoveling or grass-cutting or outside maintenance. But one thing always crushes the whole idea: the basement. Our basement has the same footprint as the house, the same square footage. Upstairs is where we live, eat, and sleep. It’s full of furniture, appliances, pots & pans, clothes, and stuff. Downstairs, in the basement, there’s more stuff. And workshops. (Let’s not speak of the garage.)

My workshop has power tools, boards, pipes, fittings and fasteners, and a bench. Here I can make or fix almost anything (That is after I search high and low for the needed tool or boards or part.) From this confusion I have produced things like a bookshelf, and with the tools I built the finished basement walls, wiring, plumbing, and shelving.

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Most of the rest of the basement is Marleen’s workshop, which consists of two rooms. In there are a long-arm quilting machine, cutting tables, two sewing/embroidery machines, and fabric, lots & lots of fabric.

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Out of this workshop have come beautiful quilts, Some of them grace the walls of our home. Some of them keep us warm in our recliners or in our bed. Some have gone to families in Kentucky where our mission teams served. Some are bringing warmth and color to family and friends. Here’s a sample:

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I am very proud of this soft-spoken woman, who skillfully and patiently selects fabric, mixes colors and patterns, then carefully cuts and stitches until these beautiful creations emerge. Her workshop is bigger than mine for a reason. My wife is the gifted creator; the artist.

“She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands…She makes coverings for her bed;”

Proverbs 31:13, 22 (NIV)