← Koala Moon: Kids Bedtime Stories & Sleep Stories for Kids Podcast
Koala Moon: Kids Bedtime Stories & Sleep Stories for Kids Podcast
Potato & Beans Meet The Moonlight Quilters 🧶😻 Cultural Kids Bedtime Stories
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Hello and welcome back to Koala Moon, a podcast of original bedtime stories and sleep meditations for kids designed to make bedtime a dream. Tonight we're bringing you a special Black History Month story. Did you know that October is Black History Month in the uk? It's a time when we're reminded to celebrate Black culture and history because it's important to recognise the huge contributions, stories and traditions of different cultures throughout history. And today we'll be meeting Potato and Beans. Then, as they close their diner at the end of a wonderful day, just when they think their day is done, they get some surprise visitors. It's Jada and Caleb. Their human friends remember them and they're going to be bringing something wonderful with them. They're going to teach their feline friends about African American quilting traditions and show them how art can be the most wonderful form of storytelling. So if you're ready and comfy, snuggle up under your own quilt and get all cosy. Before we begin, a quick message for the grown ups. If you'd like to support our podcast, enjoy ad free listening, unlock four bonus stories per month and much, much more, you can join Coco Club. Subscribe in just two taps via the link in the show notes. But now here's a quick word from our sponsors. Grown Ups. If you're looking for a fun new way to bring a little Bluey magic into your children's playtime, here's something I think you'll love. It's the Bluey Supermarket Playset. Made for kids who love imagining and playing. Just like Bluey. Just like in the show, this three level supermarket is full of imaginative fun with a real working escalator, rooftop cafe and shelves to explore. It includes exclusive figures, Supermarket Bluey and Bingo with her lollipop, plus 15 plus play pieces and 24 sound effects. Even including a working supermarket intercom. Little ones can decorate the store, ride the escalator and make their own bluey inspired adventures. And the best part, it works with all their other Bluey figures too. Bluey Supermarket Playset is available at all major retailers. Grown Ups if your little one is drifting off to Kuala Moon, but you yourself are sometimes still awake when your head hits the pillow, there's a podcast I think you might really enjoy. It's called Sleepy and it's a beautifully simple idea. Host Otis Gray reads old books in a slow, soothing voice. Classic stories like Peter Pan, Winnie the Pooh, Pride and Prejudice and more. I just listened to his episode the Blue Castle and found it super relaxing. For years, Otis has helped millions of people wind down, quiet their thoughts, and rediscover the comfort of being read to. It's calm and nostalgic. And if you love storytelling as much as your kids do, it might be just the thing to add to your own bedtime routine. You can listen to Sleepy on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts new bedtime stories every week. Let's breathe in deep and breathe out with a big sigh. Good again. Take a big deep breath and I'll begin. This is Potato and Beans and the moonlight quilters by Susannah McLoughlin in a golden valley in the middle of nowhere, the sun was beginning to arc low and orange in the sky. The last customers had left Potato and Beans Diner and the two cats were beginning to close down for the day. Mrs. Pig was turning off the stove and Ozzy was polishing the cutlery with all eight tentacles, his last job for the evening. Potato and Beans were just filling the mop bucket with soapy water, popping the little shimmering bubbles that floated up from the bucket and into the air. When the little bell tinkled above the door, the two cats turned to see some old friends bursting excitedly into the diner and their faces lit up with excited smiles. Jada and Caleb, how are you? The cats said, skating over and wrapping their arms around the children. Hey friends, we missed you, the pair replied, cuddling the fluffy cats, big smiles on their faces. To Jada and Kaleb were humans who lived in a big city accessed by the long road that cut through the valley. Whenever they went on road trips, their parents would schedule a stop at the diner. For them it was because they knew Potato and Beans Diner had the best coffee and cherry pie in the Tri State area. But they also knew the kids loved nothing more than seeing the magical animals. Animals that worked there. Oh no, the mop's out, caleb said. Are we too late? Potato grabbed the mop bucket and wheeled it out of sight. Never. Bean said. We'd open the diner at 3am in our pyjamas for you two. She took Chadder's hand and led the pair over to their favourite booth. Their parents now came through the door with a tinkle of the bell and said sleepy hellos to the cats. Potato was already whipping cream for the cherry pie and Jada and Caleb's dad gave a tired, grateful smile. Hey Dinocats, he said. Boy, am I glad to see your faces. We've been driving for hours. They collapsed into the booth and let out satisfied sighs as they sunk into the plush red leather benches. Mrs. Pig came whizzing out from the kitchen with an array of dishes, putting all manner of delicious things on the table, and Mum and Dad got stuck straight in. We've been to Atlanta, jada said to the cats, who pulled up stools and joined them at their booth. Atlanta, Georgia? The Peach State Potato asked dreamily, her mind already swimming with images of juicy sweet peaches. There's the one, caleb said. But we weren't there for our tummies. We were visiting the Atlanta Quilting Convention. The what? Potato asked, screwing her face up. The Atlanta Quilting Convention, jada repeated. It's an exhibition with a contest and everything celebrating African American quilting traditions. You know, quilts, the comfy patchwork blankets often associated with grandmas. Well, quilting actually is a big part of African American history in this country, so we went to check it out and oh my, you should have seen the quilts. Jada's mum swallowed a big bite of cherry pancake and nodded. They were true works of art, she said. Huge, colourful things, so intricate, stitched together in all kinds of patterns. Beans grinned. Did you get to try them out? Roll up in them like burritos? Jada laughed and shook her head. No, but I suggest that they let us do that next time. Caleb took a sip of vanilla milkshake and began to explain. A lot of African Americans were brought here for slavery many years ago, often to work the cotton fields in the South. Thankfully, slavery was abolished, but afterward many of them found themselves in remote rural parts of country where it was hard to start businesses and there wasn't enough money to go around. This is where the quilting was really born. Like they told us about this place called Gee's Bend. It's a tiny African American community in a bend in the Alabama river, and it was really a hard place to live. The quilting started over 120 years ago when the women who lived there used scraps of fabric to make blankets for the community. You couldn't just go to Walmart and buy something to keep you warm, so they used scraps from old clothing and recycled materials too, and put them all together, stitching them into something cosy, a piece of art. Jada took over now. Yeah, the women from Gee's Ben kept on making these quilts and they invented new designs and techniques too. The Europeans way of quilting at that time tended to be quite strict, following specific designs that made pictures that were very precise and they repeated from household to household. But the African American quilters, they used more improvisation. They made quilts that told their stories, and they represented how they felt, how they wanted their art to look. That's what makes it really special. Now, all these years later, the quilting traditions have been passed down through the generations, and African American quilters are still continuing to make beautiful, colorful, unique quilts that not only keep you warm but are handmade pieces of art that you could even hang on the wall instead of a painting. Potato and Beans were captivated by Jada and Caleb's story. Art comes in so many forms, doesn't it? Potato said. It's not just painting and drawing. Beans nodded. And it can tell us stories, whether that's of a difficult past where there was no money for art supplies, just needles and thread and fabric scraps, or of the future of families quilting together and cuddling up cosy in their creations. Jada nodded. Exactly, she said. And even though Caleb and I haven't quilted before, our trip inspired us to try, the traditions are still being shared and honoured now by young African Americans like us. Caleb scratched his chin. You know what? Mum and dad are gonna need a nap before we set off again, he said. Maybe whilst they snooze, we could get our supplies and make a quilt together. One for here for the diner. It could tell you your story. How about that? Potato and Beans looked at each other with sparkles in their eyes. It would be an honour to quilt with you, Jada and Caleb, they said, whilst Mrs. Pig sorted out camping beds for the sleepy parents to rest on. Potato and Beans followed the kids to the car, where Caleb opened a trunk and Jada hauled out a huge sack full of scraps of fabric. This is all recycled, she said proudly, and the cats clapped their paws in appreciation. The art was eco friendly too. Caleb brought out a little sewing kit with needles and little spools of thread in all colours of the rainbow. The night air was balmy and the stars were now twinkling in all their glory, even brighter than the neon sign over the diner door. Jada looked up and gasped. Oh wow, she whispered. I've never seen stars like that. Potato and Beans looked up. There were thousands, all shining bright silver and inky blue. A tiny crescent of new Moon shone between the constellations and the white smudge of the Milky Way was visible, swirling and whirling overhead. It's always like this in the desert, potato said. You just haven't been here at night. It's extra beautiful here as there are no lights or clouds to block the stars out. Maybe we could quilt out here, caleb said. Leave Mum and Dad to nap in Peace, the cat said. They thought that was a wonderful idea, and Beans disappeared back into the diner, emerging with a thick, soft green checkered picnic blanket and a golden glowing lamp that would make sure they could see their stitches. Beans arranged the blanket among some soft tufts of wild grass and they settled in. Paul sat crisscross applesauce in a circle. First, Jada said we should pick our fabric. She and Caleb each took a side of the huge sack and turned it upside down, letting the wisps of fabric tumble out into a huge pile of colour. There were scraps of all kinds. There were squares of fraying corduroy, mostly in sensible colours like navy and khaki, except one, which was groovy purple. There were scraps of tweed and wool, itchy but warm and heavy in blends of colours and fibres. There was cotton in all weaves and patterns, from starry blue to floral baby pink, and there were swathes of silk in celestial silver and deep rich red. Were telling your story with this quilt, remember? Caleb said. So let's all pick some fabric that reminds us of the diner. They all nodded determinedly and began digging through the huge pyre with their hands and paws. Beans kept a stern eye on Potato, who loved playing with yarn, anticipating that she might get distracted and start rolling around in the wisps of fabric. But Potato was much too determined to get distracted. Soon they all had piles of fabric in front of them. I've chosen fabric that will help quilt this night sky, jada said, showing off her selections and pointing at to the starscape overhead. These are the perfect shades for the sky, she said, showing off strips of velvet in all shades of blue and black. Deep, soft, rich fabrics that did seem to evoke the deep, endless expanse of space just perfectly. And these are the stars, she continued. Her star fabrics were in contrast, light and airy, soft silks and sequined mesh. Then I thought we could make a spaceship in this. Jada finished showing off some stiff silver satin. Potato nodded proudly. Good idea. Our alien friends often pass through the skies here, she said. I always waver at them from the bedroom window. Caleb showed off his pics next. When I think of the diner, I think of the excited feeling I get in my tummy when we reach the desert, he said. So I picked oranges for the rocks and greens for the cacti and this long piece of grey felt for the road. And I when I look at these colours, I think of being on the way to U2 and it makes me feel happy. Potato and Beans beamed. I chose this glittery red for the diner's sign, Potato said. And these scraps of furry fabric for me and Beans. I thought we could be on there, if that's okay. Chadder grinned. Of course, she said. It wouldn't be Potato and Beans Diner without Potato and Beans. She reached into the pile of remaining fabric and pulled out a pink felt. How about this for Mrs. Pig? Caleb pulled out a shimmering gauzy purple. And this for Ozzy, the dishwashing octopus. The cats beamed me. I picked this sandy coloured cotton to be the ground, Bean said. And this shiny silver for the windows of the diner. And this. She showed them a vibrant green for Potato's eyes. Potato squeezed her paw happily. Well, it looks like we have our fabric now let's quilt, Caleb said. They paired up Caleb with Potato and Jada with Beans, and the kids showed the cats the skills they'd picked up at a workshop at the convention. First you have to thread the needle. That's the hardest part, Caleb said, closing one eye to look through the minuscule eye of the needle and then expertly threading a piece of silver thread through the hole. You try, he said, passing the needle and thread to Potato. Potato closed one eye and looked through the hole. She tried to thread the needle through as expertly as Caleb, but it was too fiddly. She stuck out her tongue to see if that would help her concentration. Still, it was too fiddly. She opened her other eye, stuck her tongue out further, and went cross eyed with effort. Now the thread slid perfectly into the needle. Phew, she said, rubbing her eyes with her paws. Beans tried threading her own needle and the thread found its home first time. No crossing of the eyes or sticking out of the tongue needed now. Jada said, take some fabric and begin stitching. You tie a little knot at the end of your thread first, then push it up through the fabric, catch it on the other side and push it down through the other side like a wiggly worm. Up and down and up and down. You see. She demonstrated a perfect line of neat stitches. Beans began her own stitching and it was fiddly at first. Her stitches came out all different sizes and the line was wonky. They won't be perfect at first, said Caleb, but practice makes perfect. The more they practiced, the better their stitches became. They weren't perfect. That would take time, but they were much neater, and after getting tangled a few times, Potato began to feel that the needle was behaving itself and going at least close to where she wanted it to. We can begin our Quilt now. Caleb smiled. He and Jada helped Potato and Beans pick their first piece to stitch. Potato decided to start with the red of the sign, making a glittering square. Caleb showed her how to cut out her piece and begin stitching it to the background. She chose one of Jada's inky blue pieces of velvet. Beans started with the ground, stitching shapes of sandy cotton together, interspersing green, spiky shapes that were to represent the desert plants. The friends fell into a comfortable silence as they stitched, and they began to tune into the sounds of the night. The soft chirping of the crickets, all chorusing from where they clung to waving strands of wild grass. The gentle hoot of an owl or a nightjar swooping overhead, silhouetted against the stars. And their own gentle, sleepy, concentrated breaths, slow and deep as they stitched and stitched, focused on the movement of the cat's paws and nothing else. When the cats were immersed in their own designs, Jada and Caleb began their own corners of the quilt. Jada started on the sky, mixing complementary blues in wiggly strips, showing how the sky was at once one colour, but also hundreds if you look long enough. Knowing more complex stitches, she created glittering knots to be the tinier, further away, stars, and cut out silver splashes of silk for the bigger ones. She layered a fine silver mesh in a swirl over the top of one corner to represent the Milky Way. And then she began stitching a little silver ufo, borrowing a silky green to make a little smiling alien. Sitting in the driver's seat, Caleb's brow furrowed in concentration as he compiled his rich oranges into the rocky shapes of the canyon. He used green thread to embroider little tendrils of plants crawling up in between them. Then he took the largest piece of fabric they'd use on the quilt and made one long road. Though quilters would usually use smaller pieces, all jigsawed together, Caleb decided that the road should be one piece to show how very long and straight and uninterrupted it was as it cut across the country, crossing straight lines and taking you seamlessly from city to desert to city again. When Potato had finished with the diner sign, she began stitching her friends, adding little pink triangles to an oblong to make Mrs. Pig, making a round, furry blob for her and a slimmer, taller blob to be beans. Caleb advised her that she didn't need to make them totally lifelike. The quilting could tell a story, even if you had to look closely to tell what it was. Actually, he said, that was part of the charm. It could be abstract, he said, meaning that even if you couldn't see a picture straight away, the minute you looked at the quilt, the more you took in the shapes and the textures, the more you got a feeling of what they represented. Like you could draw the most lifelike cat in pencils and people would look at it immediately and know it was a cat. But you could also make a quilt that didn't have two ears and two eyes and a tail, but was soft and furry and striped and had a little flash of silver like a bell and a scratchy pink patch like a cat's tongue. And though it might not look like a cat straight away, the more you feel the quilt and admire the shapes, on might begin to feel like a cat more than the drawing ever did. Potato thought that was quite special. And so when she put together the patch that represented Beans, she didn't worry about making it exactly like her, but made sure it felt warm and safe and kind and fun. And though she didn't know how exactly she would make that show, she just kept stitching and letting her love flow into her work. Soon, when the moon had arched through the sky until it shone directly overhead, all their pieces had been made, and it was time to assemble the quilt. The four friends let their quilt pieces sit between their laps as they attached canyon to sky and dinah to sand. Soon they were all covered by the most beautiful quilt. It was, as Caleb had said, abstract in that there wasn't a sign on the door, and the road didn't line up exactly where it did in real life, and the plants weren't the exact ones that grew around the parking lot, but it was unmistakably Potato and Beans Diner, and it was beautiful. It was all the very best bits of the place, all the things that made Caleb excited to visit and that made Jada gasp when she looked at the sky. The four friends, tired from their stitching and cutting and sorting, all flopped back onto the ground, covered by the comforting weight of the quilt. They looked up at the sky, watching a shooting star zip from one side to another, all closing their eyes and making a wish. Potato and Beans wished that Jada and Caleb would visit more often, and Jada and Caleb wished the same, but no one told each other in case it stopped their wishes from coming true. They watched the Milky Way swirl and the stars twinkle and talked and talked and talked until eventually the talking stopped. None of them would remember when it stopped or what the last thing was that they had said. Their words just had begun to come slower, punctuated with sleepy yawns. Then, two by two eyelids had closed under the magical, gorgeous quilt. All four friends had fallen deeply asleep. That's how Jada and Caleb's parents found them, refreshed from their own naps and ready to get back on the road to drive back to their cosy home. Jada and Caleb, Potato and Beans, were all curled up together, top to tail on a soft green blanket, tucked under the most wonderful quilt. Mum and dad commented on how they'd have to take the quilt to the convention next time to show off their wonderful children's talents. And then, so gently that neither child stirred, they scooped them up in their arms and placed them ever so softly in their car seats, tucking them into their own quilt, the one that had been waiting so patiently for them all, folded nicely in the trunk. They went back to wake the sleeping cats, but Mrs. Pig, climbing into her own shiny pink convertible, told them not to. They would sleep like a dream, just there under the stars, she said, tucked up warm under their quilt. And so everyone went back to their warm and cosy beds, except for Potato and Beans, who were smiling softly in their dreams, sleeping as they did best underneath the vast starry sky, sending their snores into the desert as stars whizzed and twirled overhead and little aliens waved down at them from little twinkling UFOs. The next morning they'd wake up to the most dazzling sunrise, but for now all there was to do was rest. Sam sa.