QUILTING WITH THE BEE SISTERS: RIVER HERITAGE QUILT GUILD ANNUAL EXHIBITION OPENS FRIDAY

Left is a Judy Robinson quilt that won the quilters' guild award in the Star category. Above is a closeup of one of Stodghill's works.

Three Tuesday nights a month, the Bee Sisters surround a quilting frame in Jane Stodghill's basement. They sew, they stop for coffee, they solve each other's problems and, they begrudgingly admit, share the latest gossip.

"There are times when we come together and may not actually quilt," Stodghill says.

There are nine Bee Sisters but only two, Mary Lou McNair and Lisa Rice, braved the icy hills that lead to Stodghill's house Tuesday night. Some nights, missing Bee Sisters Madeline Gieselman, Betty Cord, Glenda Nations, Bonnie Windisch, Cookie Little and Phyllis Herbst are joined by other women who come by just to talk.

The only reason the Bee Sisters don't meet every Tuesday night is because they are members of the River Heritage Quilters' Guild, which convenes on the second Tuesday of every month. (See related story)

The Bee Sisters were formed three years ago by guild members who wanted to quilt the way people used to -- together and by hand. All of them also work on projects alone and use sewing machines, but the experience is completely different, they say.

In some ways, the Bee Sisters are as much support group as quilting circle. Some have children in the military, others have been divorced. Stodghill and another of the Bee Sisters work in the same medical office.

"One of the things we know as women, we know we really need friends," she says. "We don't make any judgment calls. And we know if we say it here it doesn't leave."

They also compare information, thimble preferences and talk about fabrics. Quilters are inveterate fabric collectors. "We say the one who dies with the most fabric wins," Rice said.

In her early '30s and a quilter since age 18, she is one of only two Bee Sisters who still have children at home.

"This is my getaway," she said.

The primary bond is their love of sewing. But the difference between knitting or crocheting and quilting is that quilting can be done with other people.

"I know many people who have used quilting to get through a deep emotional loss," Stodghill says. "I think it's the fabric. It feels so good. When you get sick, don't you want to be under a quilt?"

The Bee Sisters had to ask Frieda Lorenz, one of the older members of the guild, to show them how to put the fabric in the quilting frame initially. Lorenz soon dropped out because the Bee Sisters conflicted with her bowling night. "We were cramping her style," Stodghill laughed.

They take turns working on a quilt one of the members has devised. The current project is Betty Cord's schoolhouse design.

Making a quilt is time consuming, so having a group working on the same project reduces that time considerably. As much as they like quilting like it used to be done, the Bee Sisters are glad they weren't born in the day when a woman had to have a certain number of quilts before she could get married."

"We'd have to go to Wal-Mart," Stodghill said.

Quilting is an international language. Stodghill was with her husband, Kent, in Germany, when a woman in a restaurant admired the vest she'd made. She was a quilter as well. Now they have a friendship and exchange patterns and ideas.

There are now two groups of people who make quilts, the Bee Sisters say: quilters and artists who use fabric as a medium.

"Most of the time quilters and quilt artists don't meet," Stodghill says.

McNair, a former home economics teacher, says the high cost of fabric has turned sewing into a hobby. "Nobody sews except for pleasure anymore."

McNair is a veteran of other quilting circles, including one at Grace Methodist Church and another at St. Vincent's Church.

How long does it take to make a big quilt? is the question most commonly asked of quilters.

"Who cares?" asks McNair. "If you're going to care you'd better not start."