Our row of poplars needed to be thinned. As I saw the long branches fall to the ground, I had a thought. It was the kind of thought that Grandpa wishes I wouldn’t have. It was the kind of thought that often means work for him.
“Whatever you are thinking . . . don’t.” I closed my eyes and tried not to.
I said “GYPSY TENTS” . . . quietly.
We gathered the sticks of the greatest length and stacked them against the fence.
I said that these would do nicely.
My Gypsy Tent coverings are all made from “thrifted” skirts. I looked for the biggest sizes with the fullest style for the bottom layers and more interesting colors, textures and styles for the top layers. I cut the main seam from each skirt and sewed three or four of them together.
RATHER THAN FIT MY SKIRTS TO THE POLES . . . I FIT THE POLES TO THE SKIRTS.
This one thing took most of the stress out of the size of each covering and adapted to the size of the poles.
Suffice it to say that I came up with a plan and started some time ago
to put together these and others like them.
Grandpa lashed the poles together and set them in the shadiest spot in the yard, close to the hammocks. I put an old rug and old quilts on the ground inside of each one. The children assembled animals from throughout the yard and the sandbox as “guards” for the biggest tent. The fabrics were lightweight in most cases, so the tents were a refuge and stayed quite cool.
Each tent cover was made to have a large opening for the door.
“What the heart has once owned it shall never lose.”
-Henry Ward Beecher-