When I recently fell back in love with quilting (not that I ever fell out of it…but we had kind of a parting of the ways and now we realize we are meant to be together forever), I figured there must be a gazillion quilting blogs out there, and I was curious to see what people were doing. So I think I typed in a search like “quilting blogs” or something, and landed on this page.
If you scroll down, there is a HUGE list of quilting blogs. I’ve been clicking on one or two of them whenever I get some time to explore. Some are defunct (the list went up in 2010), some have moved, but a lot of them are still there and it’s fun – and inspiring – to look at all the quilts people have made.
Go take a look. So much talent and passion and artistry out there!
So the other day at dinner Julia said, out of the blue, “I don’t like eating raisins because it’s like eating tiny old people.”
I have no explanation.
The baby quilt I’ve been working on has conjured up memories of other baby quilts I’ve made, especially one of the first ones. Not sure if I’ve told this story before, but here goes…
This was back when ALLLLLL my quilting was hand-sewn. Piecing AND quilting. Everything. I loved it. And I still do, though too much of it bothers my hands. But this was a while ago.
Anyway, one of my sister’s friends, Betsy, was having a baby – I believe she was the first of their group to do so, and I was invited to the baby shower, and so I decided to make a quilt. I kind of blended aspects of the styles of Monet and Seurat, with colors from Monet’s Water Lilies. So I used soft greens and pinks and blues, and all the pieces were hexagons. I can’t describe it better, and I don’t have pictures, but I remember loving the creation of it…the artists, their styles, the colors…and yay – a baby!
Anyway, because I was a card-carrying member of Procrastinators Anonymous (still am, but not as bad), soon it was the night before the shower and I still hadn’t finished the quilt.
But I DO finish things. And the shower was at something like eleven o’clock the following morning (a Saturday, I assume), so, hey, I’d just stay up kind of late and get it done.
I was up all night. All. Night. I had the tv on, I was in the living room with my quilt on a table, and I was stitching my fingers off.
And yes, dammit, I finished that quilt.
I don’t remember if I took any sort of nap that morning, before the shower. I kind of don’t think I did.
Anyway, to make it even better, I had to drive, because my mom, who was also invited, had had surgery on the bottom of her foot and it was still in a cast or boot or something.
The shower was half an hour or so from where we were both living (and my sister wasn’t even able to come to the shower for some reason…she was living up in Boston at the time, so maybe it was because of work or something?) (and, as yet another side note, I now live just minutes from the church basement where that baby shower took place) …where was I? Oh yeah, half hour drive. So here we go, my limping mother and me with most of my brain wrapped in fuzz.
We put our gifts with the others and found seats sort of near the back. I propped my eyes open with paper clips. And the shower was under way.
While other gifts are being opened in the story, I’ll take a moment to explain the weirdness going on in my head during the shower.
I was big.
I felt, as I willed myself to remain upright on that folding chair in that church basement, with all the many sweet church member ladies and family members and friends, like I was twice the size – at least – of my usual self. Not fat. Big. A giant. That’s how sleep deprivation was distorting my world. I tried not to move so I wouldn’t frighten anyone with my big-ness.
And eventually Betsy got to the baby quilt. She pulled it from the bag (or unwrapped it – I don’t remember) and held it up for all to see, (as I tried to shrink down so I was normal-sized) and said, loudly, “JAYNE W MADE THIS!”
And the word loudly doesn’t do it justice. Her voice THUNDERED the words, and as she said them I seemed to grow bigger and all the little old ladies and moms and cousins and friends turned, as one, to look at me as I was contorting into something that might pass for normal-sized in my metal folding chair.
I hope I smiled politely.
No one ran away screaming, so I guess I looked harmless.
And the shower proceeded normally, with the rest of the gifts opened, lots of oohs and aaahs and smiles at all the adorable baby things…lots of thank-yous from Betsy, and then, of course, food.
That is my best baby quilt story.
I made baby quilts for my sister’s two kids, both of which were late. Not sure how late my nephew’s quilt was, but my niece didn’t get hers til she turned two. Hey, there were a lot of appliquéd flowers on that one. That sort of detail takes TIME.
Anyway, so that’s the baby quilt stuff.
Like I said in my previous post, all this quilting has resulted in a resurgence of my love of designing and sewing. So naturally I had to rearrange my sewing/jewelry-making/other stuff-making area. (For some reason I can’t stand the term “crafting” or anything “craft-“ related. I can’t use it. Ick.)
So that’s what I did yesterday. I’m still not completely done, but that’s today’s job.
Both pictures were taken in bad light and with my phone, so please excuse the poor image quality….
The biggest change I wanted to make was to have that tall work table sticking out from the wall so that I could walk around it and work on big projects. It’s a bit of a tight fit back there, but I made it work and I’m SO happy about it. There are still areas that need to be tidied up or reorganized, but that’s the easy part.
The hardest part was moving the rolltop desk. Now, it does come apart, so that helps, and I remove all the drawers, of course, but still – it’s heavy, even broken down into sections. But I did it. I’ve done it so many times over the years, I’m actually pretty good at reassembling it, which is tricky because the center writing part has to slide in between the two drawer portions, so those things have to be just the right distance apart, and that middle writing section is HEA-VY because it’s got a huge piece of some sort of stone inlay as the writing surface. And, of course, there’s maneuvering the whole roll-top section – which is one enormous unwieldy piece – and fitting it onto the pegs that hold it in place (the pegs jut up from the corners of the two main drawer-holding parts of the desk). Anyway, putting that together successfully is always cause for high-fiving oneself. Not that I did, of course, because that would be weird.
And that’s about all the writing I have time for. I’ve got some laundry to hang outside, and some reorganizing to finish downstairs.
And, of course, that baby quilt isn’t finished yet….
I have spent too much time (or wasted, probably) not doing things because I was afraid I’d do them wrong. If I didn’t think I could do something perfectly, I just wouldn’t do it. So many roads not taken.
But that’s okay – I’m in a good spot at this time in my life.
Maybe that’s why I actually finished window quilt #4 today.
I figured I should post a picture of Softie since Scratchy’s been getting more face time lately.
Here she is, sitting on one of the quilts, which is on my ironing board. I’d been tying the layers together and went upstairs to check on the bread in the oven. When I came back down, Softie had claimed the spot.
A couple of weeks ago I picked up some sewing equipment for Julia. I got her a pair of scissors that are super sharp and much easier for her small hands to manage than my big, heavy Ginghers. And I got her a little pin cushion (pink, of course) and a box of very pretty pins.
Yesterday Bill took Alex ice fishing. It’s cold up here in the northeast right now, –1 F this morning, for example, so the ice on the local ponds is pretty thick. The menfolk dressed warmly and brought an extra pair of gloves each, and off they went. Julia and I wisely stayed home and, more importantly, indoors.
I started working on Bill’s quilt, and Julia wanted to help, but there wasn’t really anything she could do to help…so I asked her if she wanted to make a quilt of her own, maybe for her dolls, or her 25,769 Barbies….
I figured I’d start out with some of the easier repairs first. There are a few spots where just a single piece of fabric is frayed or torn, with nothing going on nearby. Like the square above. There was a long tear where the fabric had just worn out, right along the seam. No good way to repair it directly, so I’d cut a square of fabric to cover the original square.
My whole sewing area needed some straightening up, so I decided to tackle that earlier today. I moved and sorted and rearranged and consolidated, and now I feel much better about things.
While I was going through everything, I came across a white plastic trash bag with what I’d thought was a quilt in progress. Something my grandmother had started at some point but never finished. So, since Finishing Stuff is my project for the year, I figured I’d take a look to see what needed to be done.
Years ago (around twenty, actually) (wow) I did a lot of quilting. I’d learned to sew when I was a kid, and I made my first quilt when I was in high school. It was for my grandfather, who’d had a heart attack, and when I said I was going to make it for him for Christmas, someone (don’t remember who) said I wouldn’t have enough time.