One of the many things I admire about my mother-in-law, is her respect for, and love of hobbies. Sewing has kept her sane, knitting has, too. She bakes beautifully. And is often trying new savory recipes. When her parents died and all three children flew the nest, she taught herself to quilt. She now has an entire room dedicated to her craft. It’s how she spends most days. When she can, at least. She has made each of her grandchildren a quilt, and there are some large ones in the works for her children. My neighbour, Josephine, a retired teacher who lives alone in a big house just north of us, wrote that she is sewing her way through this time of social isolation. My Mum, who also lives alone, is turning raw clay into shells and angel wings at her kitchen table. My studio mate, Dasha is making enough bread to fill a bakery. Hobbies sound old fashioned and quaint –– my brother used to spend hours painting those little metal soldiers –– but in our fast paced, prepped-to-earn lives, how lovely is it to press flowers, plant them, even, for the sheer love of doing so. For Frida, and many other hobbyists, quilting has woven its way into her day-to-day life. It’s an anchor, an escape, a labour of love.