Topiary, the Legend
A tale starts simply, like a quilt. An idea, good material, embellishments and time. Soon from humble beginnings grows a legend.
It was February, 1996, Syd and Kathy were armed and ready for the annual NEORQC Getaway Weekend. (knee-rock - an arcane word referring to the movement of the patella as one sews at a sewing machine). It was indeed, a good day to quilt. After some minor directional lapses they arrived in Cuyahoga Falls and there this tale truly begins.
Intrigue from the moment of arrival. Our travelers spied their fearless leader, The Mary Huey, laden with burdens. What could they do but help? It was how they were raised. In hushed tones they were told of a secret and of their part in it. They were to take a large birthday cake and hide it until Saturday night. They were to pass the word to fellow well-wishers and on the appointed hour they were to, along with these revelers, deliver the cake. For it was Ruth’s, Mary’s mother’s, birthday.
They had also fulfilled their pledge to find table assignments for their intrepid band, “The Erie Street Quilters”.
Let me say right here and now that one would be hard pressed to find a finer group of women. Kind, talented, supportive and polite. But like any student of nature will tell you, even the most gentle of pups, when underfed and sleep deprived, will, well, form a pack an turn on the weak. The weak, as it turned out, was the table centerpiece.
Every year the Get Away has a theme and this year’s was “Celebration of Flowers”. Someone had spent a significant amount of time to festively decorate the dining area. In all truth, what we love to see is a display of fabric that we get to share. What we got was a stick in a flower pot upon which rested a Styrofoam ball embellished with lots and lots of tiny plastic blooms. To ensure it’s stability the little pot was filled with cement. There it stood in the middle of our table…the Topiary…Could we ignore it? We could not for it stood at the exact height as to block out the face of anyone sitting across the table. Suddenly we were all on “Court TV”. conversation was stilted. “Who wanted what passed? Who said that?” and so on. And yet, we were polite and bobbed and weaved and tried to ignore it.
My recollection is that it was during breakfast on Saturday that the tide turned. Ruth, mother of Mary and revered as such, knocked the thing over on it’s side. This was by no means an accident. It made a most satisfying “Thump”. From then on the topiary became fair game. It was rolled, and taunted,, and dumped in the planter next to the table. Somehow when we returned for lunch and then for dinner, it too, had returned. Standing like a beacon, just asking for it.
Saturday night came and we sat down to eat. We ate, we laughed, we tossed around the centerpiece. The time for the speeches came and Jan got up and left the table. If we have learned one thing from all this it is “go before, or hold it”. We were told to count off and the lucky winner would receive, to take to beautify their home, the topiary on their table. We did as we were told. The number was drawn. Syd was the “winner”. the entire table, with one mind, one thought, looked at Jan’s empty chair. When she returned she found the prize was hers. Did she suspect foul play? One can only guess.
The time for Ruth’s birthday surprise had come. Syd and Kathy and many other arrived at Mary’s door with the cake (frosting intact, no mean feat for Syd of the sweet tooth). We had fabricated a tasteful card for Ruth but all felt a bit bad that we had no gift for her. In walked Jan, smiling. In one hand she had a bottle of wine, in the other, the perfect gift. The Topiary. We all laughed, but in our hearts we knew this would not be the end.
January, 1997 -- Super bowl Sunday at Erie Street Quilts. Ellen, “the Meany”, Sweeney had devised a contest. Teams would compete to see who could put together the most star blocks in the allotted time. We were ready. Syd and Not Syd. Bonnie and Beth. Mary and Marsha to name but a few. And the ill-fated team of Jan and Candy. Ellen in her referee outfit was calling thee shots and handing out penalties. Jan was the first to notice there seemed to be some bias. Certainly, Syd deserved the penalty for dropping the hot iron in the plastic snow. The smell alone warranted that, but the other penalties piling up against Jan and Candy seemed at best capricious. Jan was getting visibly irritated and more so when Kathy (Not Syd) reported to her that no one else had any penalties. The whistle sounded, the challenge was over. Mary and Marsha had the most blocks. (One can only wonder how many eight-inch blocks will fit in a cheese hat.) They conceded to a mother/daughter team who without the help of a cheese hat had produced the most blocks. Then the award for the most penalties. Jan Orlando. Jan alone. He team mate was not included in the shame. She was made to come before the other teams where she received he prize. It was a large box wrapped in fabric from the collection of “What was I thinking”. ACME, boom, Wiley coyote. Jan opened the box and quickly closed it again. She took a breath and pulled out….the Topiary. The few who knew screamed with laughter. Ruth just smiled.
Somewhere between the back door of the shop and her car, Jan formed her plan.
February 1997 and once again it was time for the “Get Away”. this year it would fall on Valentine’s Day. Again, we gathered to eat and sew and laugh. The centerpiece was small and stuffed and our fun had to come at the expense of something else. The food. As we gagged our way through the dinner courses a waitress arrived at our table with a big white box with a big red bow. The kind that usually contains roses. “Syd Freund?”, she asked and handed over the box.
“How is going to kill Phil for this”, said Kathy. (Phil, Syd’s husband, is prone to these showy gestures and Howie, Kathy’s husband never hears the end of it as he is not so inclined.) The jealous eyes of four hundred women turned to watch. Syd slid off the box, peaked in the box and closed it. She started to laugh as only Syd can. She pulled out the Topiary and we, “the few who knew”, howled. Except Jan. It is hard to laugh and look smug at the same time.
April 1997. Lynn Gallagher was worried that a milestone birthday of “The Mary Huey” might go by without proper fanfare. We talked, we planned, we plotted. Alas, I was not there when Lynn arrived at the shop with a beautiful cake and…the Topiary. This time we covered it with legal tender as it had been determined that Mary, at her age, needed an aide to sight. Contributions would allow her to buy this and think of us as she spotted birds in the wild.
And so for now, this tale ends, Mary will be watching and waiting. And by my hand “the few who knew” will increase in number and as all legends mush, will grow and be embellished and continue in our laughter.
Done this tenth day of June 1997, by my hand and machine…Kathy (Not Syd) Fein
The Roll:
Syd Freund February 10, 1996
Jan Orlando February 10, 1996
Ruth Brower February 10, 1996
Jan Orlando January 16, 1997
Syd Freund February 14, 1997
Lynn Gallagher (transport only, 6/97)
The Mary Huey June 10, 1997
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