Really ugly

Here we have four coordinating fabrics. I am referencing Ricky Tim's book on convergence quilting.
Following the directions carefully, I cut and re- sew horizontally and then vertically. I appraise what I have done to these innocent fabrics.
Mercy killing. I am deeply regretful.

Sundays Are Boring

In blogland. Really. As opposed to this blog, where it is boring most of the time. Why, one wonders, why is it that pure navel gazing, such as blogging, is sometimes burdensome? Is it that my soul cries out against the narcissism that is blogging? Or is it because I am a slow knitter/quilter/spinner? (Not. Buying. A. Fleece. At. Maryland Sheep and Wool. Really.) Or is it because I am really, really lazy?

Leaf Applique Unvention

I unvented something. EZ would be proud of me. I wanted to appliqué leaves on the quilt in progress, and I am all fired up from reading Gwen Marston's books on Tulips and Roses quilts ans Four Block quilts. She talks about free cutting fabric, and placing it intuitively, allowing our eye to do the subtle measuring at which it excels.

She also wrote on needle turning- which means turning under the edge of the fabric as you hand sew it. Can't hand sew. Hurts too much, and I can't really seem to get he eye hand coordination on a small needle. ( Oddly, this doesn't seem to affect my IV starting skills, but the catheters used for IV s are significantly easier to handle. Also, I've been starting IV s a lot longer than I have been sewing, so it may be an old dog/new trick issue.)Here's what I did:

Starting with the free cut leaf shapes, I put them in a shallow box,(to prevent sticky basting spray from getting every where), pinned them down with one pin, and sprayed them with quilt basting spray. ( Without the pin, the blast of basting spray blew them around.)



Next, I clipped the curves, and folded over the hems. The basting spray held the folds in place perfectly.

Next, I arranged them on the quilt top, using a pin to hold them in place. It wasn't really necessary, due to the basting spray, but it seemed arrogant to just stick them on.
Finally, I machine appliquéd by sewing very close to the edge with a very small stitch. This is, according to Gwen Marston, an historically accurate way of appliquéing, and I have seen it on old quilts, myself. Here you see the quilt top in progress, hanging up for the photo.

Wow, That's Bright

Look! My very own sewing cave! I am under the thrall of Freddie Moran, and painted the wall in this corner hot pink. It is not really visible from the rest of the room, so I decided to go for it. I was hoping for something a little more red, but I'm still pretty pleased. The Singer 201 in it's original cabinet is a wonderful machine- I can sew and quilt on it, and I can leave it up without hogging the rest of the house. The window is one of only two that look out on the backyard, so it will be nice to get a chance to see the backyard. Now to move the rest of the sewing stuff downstairs, and figure out where to put the fabric.

In Which I Am A Dumbass

Ok, second day back to school- they got lunches, jackets, homework, back packs etc. We take the dogs- I always take the dogs when it's a day off work, because it is very satisfying to make two creatures so happy just by letting them ride in the car. To somewhere you were going, anyway. I drop off son one at his school. I park at second school, I walk in son two. No dogs allowed, so they wait in the car. I go back to the car, I get the dogs, I lock the car, I walk the dogs. I have a wonderful walk. We see herons, but we do not bark at them. Good dogs. Lots of coots, those low in the water duck like birds that have chicken feet. I head back to the car.

The car is locked. I have no keys. How did I lock the car? I only lock it with the remote, because I have these tendencies. Nope, no keys. I walk back the walk I already walked, paying special attention to the places where I pulled plastic bags out of my pockets to scoop poop. No keys.

I go to the school office. I am carrying a small dog, I have a large one tied to the bench out front, and she is howling. Ginger likes to express herself, and she's a big dog and pretty loud. I go into the office- excuse me mam no dogs on school property- I know, I need your phone book, I locked my keys in the car. Oh. I call a random locksmith. I wait, outside, in the delightful little spring drizzel we are having. I am loitering outside the school, feeling odd but smiling at everyone who walks past, staring and wondering why is that woman and those dogs sitting on the sidewalk in the rain? Will the locksmith never come?

An unmarked van pulls up and he says, well it's $89US is that ok? Uh, yeah, sure, because in the forty minutes I sat on the sidewalk in the rain, I couldn't think of a better idea. So he breaks into my car so effortlessly and quickly, using ordinary bits- not even real tools. I get my purse. There is no wallet.

I shake out the purse. There is no wallet. There are keys, though. But no wallet. At the advice of the nice locksmith I start calling people who might give me their credit card number. I get halfway down the list before my BFF, Midwestern branch, answers the phone. Can I have your credit card number? Sure. How come? Now that is love.