The 405 Aired Nov 13th, 2025
I wanna again welcome you to The 405 Coffee Break guys, get you a cup of coffee, glass iced tea, bottle of water. Let's see what's happening on this Thursday.
OK Solberg:Spring wheat $5.28 a bushel. 550lb steer calf $4.33 on the top end. Butcher hog in Iowa 66ยข a pound. And a 100lb fat Lamb in Billings $2.22 a pound. But guys, there's more, much more.
OK Solberg:Okay. I found another quilting story online. I know that I talk about baseball often, but now I'm gonna do another segment on quilting. And when I found it, I knew I needed to share it with you. It's a man this time, A man sewing? Yes, it is. A man who found comfort in quilting.
OK Solberg:Lean in, children, and hear his story. My name is Frank, and I need to write this down. It happened last winter, and I'll never forget. It was a cold December day. The snow lay thick outside, and the chores were finally done.
OK Solberg:The fire stoked, the dishes washed, the animals fed. I sat in the quiet of the house, my mind restless, needing something to do. I thought and I thought, and for some reason, quilting came to my mind. Maybe it's because I saw grandma do it. I never thought I'd be the type to quilt.
OK Solberg:For most of my life, my hands were busy with hammers and saws, tractors, dirt, oil, the kind of work my father loved and taught me to love. But that day, with the wind howling outside, I picked up a needle and some fabric. At first it was clumsy, my stitches uneven, my hands unfamiliar with such delicate patience, but slowly, Very slowly, the rhythm of sewing, the way the quilt grew under my fingers, brought a piece I hadn't known I needed. Quilting became more than just making something warm to cover my body. It became a way to remember.
OK Solberg:I took the dress my mother had worn, a soft, faded cotton dress that still carried the faint scent of lavender soap, and I cut it into squares. She was the one who first taught me about God, who whispered prayers with me on sleepy nights, who showed me the beauty of faith in everyday life. Every stitch I made from that dress was like a quiet conversation with her, a remembrance of her gentle guidance. Then there were these old blue jeans my father had worn, patched and worn thin in places. I used pieces of them too.
OK Solberg:My father taught me to work, not just to labor, but to love work. The pride in a job well done, the satisfaction of creating something tangible. Some of my fondest memories are of us together in the workshop or out in the field, side by side, his hands and his words guiding me. With each square of denim, I stitched those lessons into the quilt, carrying the work ethic and the memory of those shared hours into every corner of my life. And finally, I took my grandmother's shawl, worn soft from years of her prayers.
OK Solberg:She prayed for all of us, quietly, faithfully, with a love that seemed to fill the house and linger long after she left the room. Cutting pieces from that shawl felt almost reverent, as if I were weaving her prayers into the fabric itself, wrapping the quilt not just in warmth, but in hope and protection. When I finally finished, the quilt was more than just fabric stitched together. It was my mother, my my father, my grandmother, all of them, each one preserved in thread and cloth. It was restful, practical, and sacred all at once.
OK Solberg:I could wrap myself in it on a cold winter night and feel the warmth of their lives, their love, and their guidance surrounding me. Quilting, I realized, was not just a hobby. Why, it was a way to remember, a way to honor, and to hold close the people who shaped me. As I lay under that quilt for the first time, I whispered a prayer, and a verse came to mind. Honor your father and your mother that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you.
OK Solberg:Exodus 20:12 And in that moment, the quilt held them all, and it held me too. The end, guys, that's just gooder than good. I think I'll start quilting, but not today. That's for all you quilters out there.
OK Solberg:This spool is for you. So until next time, as you go out there, remember now. Don't be bitter.