she barely heard cern start to cry : she remembered lien father , strangely enough , making the quilt two winters before when the snow was almost as bad and there was n't much to do in the forge , and how he 'd used all kinds of rags that had found their way to bad ass from every part of the world , like silk , dilemma leather , water cotton and tharga wool and , of course , since he was n't much good at sewing either , the result was a rather strange lumpy thing more like a flat tortoise than a quilt , and her mother had generously decided to give it to granny last hogswatchnight , and ... . `` is she dead ? ''