Citrus

July 21, 2013October 3, 2013 Elizabeth E.17 Comments

Citrus, 31-1/2″ square, finished July 2013

This is a simple Schnibbles quilt, with rail fence and sawtooth star blocks, in bright citrusy colors.

The back, with my sister’s gift of a tea towel as part of the backing.

As I was at our annual summer retreat, I chose a simple leafy pattern–one I could quilt while we talked about children, grandchildren, hymn-singing at church, marathons, and could-you-please-bring-me-a-piece-of-chocolate sort of conversations.

I was tired today, after nearly two days at our retreat, so no big fancy quilt labels for this one. Just handwritten in Micron pen, the title, my name, the place, date and dimensions. Truthfully, this is 31 and three-quarters-inch wide, but just couldn’t face all that, so I’m calling it 31-1/2″ inches square.

Here are the last two Schnibbles I’ve made. I’m thinking that whatever the next pattern is, it needs to be pink. Or aqua. Anything but yellow, orange and green.

The house was quiet this morning as I sewed on the binding. My husband had not yet returned from his scientific meeting. The weather was cool so I had the windows open, listening to the faraway sounds of traffic, the nearby sounds of insects, birds, a dog barking his good morning. I could have machine-stitched this binding down, the chunk-chunk of the needle going through so many layers of fabric, but instead, I picked up a needle and thread.

I thought about all the conversations I’d had in the past forty-eight hours at our annual summer retreat. The topics of conversation varied from books to quilt tops to sewing pillowcases to “how do you make bias binding?” to no conversation at all as we concentrated on our tasks, letting others carry the call and response around us. There is something so rich and rewarding about being in the thick of this, of feeling surrounded and accepted by all these creative, productive and interesting people. We have all brought our fabric, thread, and know how to borrow each other’s books for patterns, search Pinterest or the web, or locate what we want in a magazine or on a blog. We all seem to find the time to begin the quilt or table runner or creamy white blouse or Polaroid blocks and bring them to the communal sewing circle, so we can keep our hands busy while we solve what really is on our mind. The machines hum a nice alto line while our chorus of soprano voices slip in those concerns and cares that worry us at night, all of us telling a story of being unable to sleep because a friend moving away, or how to find the money to go to another state to meet an adult child’s sweetheart, or how to recover from a foot injury, or recover from a broken heart of a life called away too soon.

The stories are as varied as we are, from new mothers (am I doing this right?) to mothers of teenagers (can I send them to the moon?) to mothers of grown children (everything will work out). We are young, running marathons. We are older, with a litany of physical complaints. We are professionals, earning retirement and benefits, and we are under-employed, wondering how to find medical insurance. We are so different.

We are the same, with thread and scissors and stars and triangles and squares of cloth. After days of sewing together, we are tired and head back to our houses with our half-finished projects, our conversations, our new friends, our memories, all packed away until the next time.

All of this is on my mind, as I think about how this is being repeated at every retreat, every sewing circle, all of us being bound together like this quilt I am working on, a stitch at a time.

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This quilt is my first finish on my list of things to do in the Third Quarter of 2013’s Finish-A-Long (FAL).

It is #118 on my 200 Quilts List.

200 Quilts · Creating · Family Quilts · Quilts · Something to Think About

Christine’s Philadelphia

May 28, 2013April 2, 2024 Elizabeth E.21 Comments

At the last post, we were in the bakery section of Bottega Louie and I had a big surprise for my sister Christine.

It was Christine’s Philadelphia, a quilt celebrating her life and her newly adopted city. She moved to a Philadelphia row house this past year, after ten years in transition. First, she raised all her children, then began a new section of her life as an artist, returning to school. Settling in to this life was not for long, as her husband died of cancer in a quick and wild two years. She went on a mission for our church to New York City, and resumed a friendship with Doug, who had also lost his wife. They married after her mission and she moved from the West Coast, where she’d spent most of her adult life, to the East Coast (Delaware), then finally to a lovely home in Philadelphia, within walking distance of art museums. She resumed her art, but one more mishap: while biking to her studio one evening, she was hit by a car, but has now mostly recovered from that accident. She is taking on new challenges all the time. So you can see why I wanted to make her a quilt. I had lots to cram into one tiny creation of mine.

She was surprised. And I think, delighted.

I’d been planning it and working on it for a few weeks, and when she came out for her son’s graduation, I knew I could give it to her then and see her face, and then mail it back later (which I’m doing).

This was the sketch I made in QuiltPro. I knew that I wanted to alternate bold solids (for the roofs) with other patterns (for the houses).

This was the quilt, all sewn and smoothed up on the pin wall. I think I was able to execute the vision I had fairly successfully. I also wanted to emphasize the chevron effect, but didn’t want a steep 45-degree angle on the roofs, instead I went with something more sloping (drawing my own pattern to get this done). I often thought about making this just in solids, like the sketch, but I’m all about richness and texture in my quilts.

This was the first pulling of fabrics. I was worried about mixing the moderns (used mostly for the houses and the row above, as well as the sky) with the densely colored, floral Kaffe Fassett fabrics.

I sent a photo of this around to some friends and asked them what they thought. Cindy of LiveAColorfulLife said, “Oh, go for it.” So I did. (Like all my junk on the sides of my pinwall? Sometimes I treat it like a giant cork board.)

Swapping out roofs on the right side to see if I like the orange down on top of the yellows any better. I don’t.

But I tried the whole row and added in the doors and windows. You’ll notice there’s a bold blue sky piece which disappeared in the final version. I keep trying to refine my design as I go, snapping a digital picture, evaluating, moving things around, and repeating the process.

I am not a fan of when people say “Oh, I am working on this but I can’t show you.” Then just don’t show me. I hate keeping quilt secrets, but I had to keep it secret from my sister as it was a surprise, so I tried this sideways artsy shot on Instagram one day, hoping it would disguise the basic design. I didn’t want to put it anywhere on my blog since she’s a faithful reader.

I formed the windows and doors over a piece of stiff paper (like what is in a calendar) so they would be all the same size, then topstitched them down.

I sewed the narrow roof/house sections row by row; here’s one row lined up for stitching.

Then I would add the house, then the sky. The “row” on the right is all done. I’ll do another post on sewing those Y-seams, but later.

I like this shot. It reminded me of the AMH feather block I’d done for my Mid-Century Modern Bee.

I pressed the seams open — a rarity for me.

I took it outside to photograph the top, and just by draping it over the fence, I could see how valuable that deep plum-colored roof was to the whole composition. This partly influenced what color I chose for the binding.

Christine’s Philadelphia, front

I rigged up a clothesline on my back fence to take photos, as my husband wasn’t home and I wanted to get it ready to go with us to the graduation. I used a Jane Sassaman for the backing (above), and my quilter was lickety-split on the quilting (thanks, Cathy!).

I didn’t want the quilt label to stand out too much on that background, so printed it on yellow.

Here we are again, in an uncropped photo. You can see all the bakery goodies in the background.

When you sew on a quilt that is destined for someone, you spend a lot of time thinking about that person, in essence sending good vibes out into the universe for them, I think. I remembered the time she had mononucleosis when she was going to Stanford, and moved home (my dad was a professor there so we lived in the area). I was in high school at the time, and we shared a room while she convalesced. She hates it when I say this, but she has served as a great example for me and my other sisters, as all four of us are close together in age. All of my sisters are amazing. I am beyond lucky to be able to say this, and I know it. I made a quilt with Cynthia, made one for Susan, and now, with this one, they all have one of my quilts.

And with each quilt, I send them my love.

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This is Quilt #115 of 200 quilts, and I’m publishing this post on my mother’s 85th birthday. Happy Birthday, Mom!!

(Don’t worry. A long time ago, I made her a quilt too.)

Blog Strolling · eQuilt Universe · Something to Think About

To Reply, or Not to Reply? Blogging Buzz

May 17, 2013 Elizabeth E.22 Comments

I guess the first thing to get out of the way is to ask one of the big questions:

No, that’s not it.

The big question is: why do you blog?

And if you are like most of the blogs I see in Blogland, the answer falls into these categories:

making a living at quilting
want to make a living at quilting
will never make a living, but still have hope
pleasure of sharing my quilts
love to write and would write about making tires, if necessary

And then the next question:

Wrong.

Here it is: What do you expect of the people who visit your blog?

Should they leave a comment? Visit only? Not steal your content (it happens)? Not copy your ideas without attribution (it happens)? Which leads us to the really big question:

(from *here*)

When I first started my blogging adventure, in September 2006, I didn’t even enable comments, coming as I was from the “pure” experience of a Creative Writing degree where it was always expected that you would write from within yourself. Soon after that, the digital world exploded and during grad school a few years later, even though we were still yearning for that isolated writing experience, the reality of the market now loomed large, and we had classes on marketing, selling your novel, pitching stories, being aware of What’s Out There.

And that now is the world in which we quilt bloggers find ourselves, I think, which means that the pure excitement of sharing our quilts, our ideas and just chatting up the room seems to be slowly sinking into the swamp of Making Connections, Pitching My Stuff, Pick Me! Pick Me!, and so on. I think I participate in all of everything, as do most of us. But I was quite struck by the thoughts on Carrie Nelson’s blog, LaVieEnRosie, about how so much of blogging has become about advertising. Carrie is one of my heroes in the way she blogs truthfully about her life, so I really perked up when she next said:

With blogs, I’m also betwixt and between about responding to comments. I feel horribly – terribly! – guilty when I don’t answer each and every comment with an e-mail but since I can’t bring myself to send just a quick “thank you for commenting” – I think we all know I’m a bit chattier than that – do I answer just some? And if I don’t get to it right away, is it awful to respond a week or ten days later? That might be worse than not answering it at all. So I stick my head in the sand and hope the e-mails answer themselves.

Sometimes I think that comments are just comments–not requiring a reply. When I leave a comment like “Great quilt!” I don’t really expect a reply at all. But other times I’ve been pleasantly surprised when a reply has come, and over time it has deepened to a correspondence of some sort. However (and she peers over the top of glasses), I know several bloggers who feel so swamped by their own success, of the imperative to thank everyone who comes by, that they withdraw from blogland, retreating back to their studios to Make Stuff, which is — if you think about it — the main reason to have a blog. And I also cringe a little when I happen on a blog where they cheerfully say “I want to grow my blog!” as we are expected to carry away a task from that honest goal, and as I slink away I feel guilty, because certainly one of the true pleasures of blogging is building a community of like-minded folks.

So, does this strange cultural custom of expected replies to comments enhance your appreciation for a blog? Do you leave comments regardless of whether the blogger will answer you back? And if you blog yourself, do you feel compelled (and I chose that word purposefully) to answer back all your commenters?

Do Tell.

200 Quilts · FAL · Finish-A-Long · Quilts · Something to Think About

Christmas Treat Wallhanging

April 22, 2013October 15, 2019 Elizabeth E.17 Comments

So, out here on the old sewing ranch-a-roo, I finished up Christmas Treat (name is courtesy of my husband) and took it outside to pose for pictures. The front.

The back is an old Alexander Henry fabric with quirky angels flying everywhere. I’ve hoarded this and now only have about a yard of the black colorway.

The label. I like to print mine out and border them before I stitch them on. If you do a search for “labels” in the search box on the blog, you’ll find posts about how I do my labels.

The final full shot. It’s #111 on my 200 Quilts list. It’s a big day because of the following four reasons:

1–this is my first Finish a Long completed. I probably won’t finish the blue flowers at this time as the shop owner likes that it shows the back;
2–I actually did some free motion quilting on this that I’m not mostly ashamed of. Don’t look too closely, as I don’t do enough of it to show it off, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out;
3–I took this sample (above, of Christmas Treat and below, of Lollypop Tree block) to Bluebird Quilts & Gallery, my local quilt shop, and she booked me in to teach two classes.

4) my husband took a new picture of me that I think is a pretty good rendition of who I am at this point in my life. As the Mid-Century Moderns know, we scrupulously monitor our images, preferring instead to be behind the lens instead of in front of it.

About photographs: we swim in a sea of digital images, and most are out of our control, as was demonstrated by the plethora of images that came forward about the Boston Marathon tragedy. Our grandparents had a handful. Our great-grandparents had, like, maybe three. So does having so many pictures make it any easier to find one you like of yourself? If you’re like me, my husband took about ten shots before I got one that I liked–one that represented on the outside how I generally felt on the inside. So, here it is. Banish all other images to the dustbin. This is the me as I am this week, all sunny yellow in sunny Southern California.

~~Okay, class info:~~
~~Class will be taught at Bluebird Quilts & Gallery, at 22320 Barton Road, Suite A, in Grand Terrace, California (just north of Riverside).~~

~~I’ll teach Wednesday, May 22nd from 10 to 3:30 p.m. and July 29th, from 10 to 3:30 p.m.~~

I need at least four, preferably, five people to carry the class. I’m including the pattern (my own, drawn from the original Lollypop Tree quilt from the 1880s), and freezer paper (have you priced this stuff lately? Whew!). Cost is $50/full day class, including pattern. Call the shop (909) 514-0333 to sign up, if you think you’d like to take the class. They’ll have class supply lists for you when you sign up. Their hours are Sunday through Thursday from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. and Fridays from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. Closed Saturdays.