As a quilter, sometimes you are just drawn to textiles without knowing why. That happened a few years back when I came across some hand-embroidered linens that a family member tossed in a pile. They were being discarded because they had coffee stains and gravy stains and various imperfections and were no longer suitable for that prominent position on the dining room table.

I scooped them up, took them home, laundered, and ironed… unfortunately they were still pretty bad. But parts of them were charming, hand stitched by ancestors I’ve only heard about, very retro, rich in culture and quite frankly irreplaceable. I carefully folded them and put them away because, really, I wasn’t going to put them on my table either. But they haunted me and every once in a while I would take them out, unfold them, get discouraged and put them away.

I knew I could save them. I could focus on their best parts, reinforce the damaged areas, and infuse them with new materials. It’s a little risky and certainly more work than other projects where everything is brand new. Wow, this was sounding a lot like work.

Seems like every project I tackle at NRHA involves trying to create something from bits and pieces that individually don’t bring much “to the table,” pardon the pun. Much of what we do in the Real Estate department at NRHA involves rehabilitating older properties in an effort to preserve existing affordable housing.

Many of our properties were built 30 years ago with funding from programs that no longer exist. For instance, I am currently working on a “green” retrofit at Yerington Manor. This charming senior community infused with rural flavor will benefit from a HUD program designed to not only shore up and improve the structures, but also make the inside and outside healthier for residents and kinder to the environment. In order to get there a whole bunch of little parts and pieces have to be orchestrated into one final product–that’s the tricky part.

Every project has that moment where the timing is right, you’re inspired, empowered and in the zone. That happened one day with the linens. I was willing to take the risk and try something new. Of course, the first cut into the linens was the hardest – no going back now. But once I overcame that it was clear sailing. The linens are no longer stashed in a drawer. I used their best parts to enrich several projects that are proudly displayed on my tables.

Lisa Dayton