:: finding the sun in different places
:: enjoying the sharp, crisp air on our cheeks when we step out for chocolate
:: starting the day with sweet, buttery and warming “podge”
:: topping up our cold-ridden bodies with home-squeezed vitamin c
:: following the hearts to wherever they might take me …
:: so sweet!
:: and when the night draws in, cold, wet and quiet, filling our bellies with chicken and lemon soup.
p.s. if you’d like to come by for afternoon tea, I can now entertain you with a recital of the various glands of the endocrine system and their secreting hormones, and for an encore performance, the twelve cranial nerves …
Oh Once One Takes The Anatomy Finals, Very Good Vacations Are Heavenly!
Y-e-e-e-s. I’ll REALLY work hard at my anatomy this afternoon – but first, I’ll just finish off this cushion. Then I’ll feel really motivated to study. Yep. I will. When I finish the cushion. Oh, but then, I need to cook dinner. And spend some cosy time with Abby. And … and … and….
Oh my goodness – Wednesday’s over – hmph. Tomorrow. I’ll really get stuck into the exam preparation tomorrow. First thing. No sewing. No pottering. No shopping. Oh, I’ve only been shopping for food, I swear, well apart from the really quick trip to Spotlight to buy the pale blue corduroy and the now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t duck into the Red Cross thrift store, and the super quick dash to Southlands for Mr. Anderson’s book (one of our very elderly customers – a WWII naval officer from the US – who wanted Leonard Maltin’s Classic Film Guide, and we weren’t able to order it for him but I found a copy at Southlands so drove over and bought it so that we could sell it to Mr. Anderson ’cause he wanted it so and we love him).
Okay. You get the picture. Serious procrastination here folks. Lordy! Exams start next Thursday and I really need to get my act together. I hate exams. So let’s talk about crocheted cushions instead – good idea? Yeah, good idea :-)
I crocheted this panel back in January when I was home alone. But, you know how it happens, something else came along and caught my fancy – I think it was the crocheted shopping bag that continues to grow – and the panel was stuffed into a drawer without being finished. Last night, whilst Abby and I watched “The Golden Compass” (absolutely love these books and think the film adaptation was pretty good – especially the young lass who played Lyra – she was FANTASTIC and I want just about all of her clothes. “I’m not wearing that!” declared Abby as I oohed and ahhed over that gorgeous rust coloured pinafore in the first scene with the lovely blue dress underneath. “I’m not asking you to.” I replied. “I want to make it for ME!” – oh, that was a long digression) I added the finishing touch – the brown ruffled edging with pink across the top.
Interesting thing this … this edge was the cast on chain – and when I pinned the panel onto its corduroy backing this afternoon – this edge was a good inch narrower than the opposite edge. No matter how hard I eased (yanked) and pressed (bashed) it remains a good inch narrower than the other edge. Hmmm … I wonder if you could avoid this by using a much bigger hook to make this chain – or is this just a feature of the cast on chain. Don’t know. If you know – please do share – ’cause this is such a satisfying cushion to make, I’d like to make more but have to confess to being mildly frustrated by this inch business.
So for the undercase … my crocheted panel was roughly 53cm square – made to fit an Ikea 50cm feather cushion. So I bought 1.3 metres of corduroy and cut it into a long panel, 53 cm wide by 1.3 m long. I found the middle of the corduroy and the middle of the panel, pinned it into place. Pinned down both sides then across the top and bottom – measuring this off against the ends of the corduroy to keep it straight – and stitched it into place with my walking foot.
Then I overlocked the ends (typical – if you change the thread to black for Julian’s trousers you can be guaranteed the next thing you’ll sew will need the white thread – well I’m not changing it so there), ironed up a hem on each end and then folded these back over the crocheted panel, right sides down, pin, pin, pin, pin, pin, and then stitched down each side. I carefully avoided stitching in the brown ruffles. Turned it out and voila! It worked thank goodness. A failed crochet cushion project would not have helped my anatomy study one bit.
This is definitely the winter for corduroy – oh this blue is so soft and squishy! I have such love for this orange yarn – its Brown Sheep’s Lambs Pride Worsted – wow do those folks know colour. Mmmmmm …. and the pinky red is from a project I’ve been working on for Abby for 4 years. It was going to be a cardigan, but given how much she’s grown in that time, I’ve been ripping it out (I’d knitted the back and two fronts) and knitting it back up into a short sleeved tee. The purple – left over from a granny square rug that I reckon I could finish this week given its exam preparation time. And the blue is a divine Debbie Bliss tweed. [sigh] When I’m an earning midwife, I’m going to knit me a whole sweater in Debbie Bliss’s tweed. So earthy and nubbly and real.
There you have it – a crocheted cushion.
:: determined to be part of the action ::
:: she should be on the stage – so picture perfect! ::
:: flop + sigh ::
Now where’s those granny squares ….
A finished quilt. Yipee! It’s only taken 18 months. Sort of. I remember working away at this quilt on Mum’s back verandah very diligently, then it was packed away in a moving box and hidden in the sewing shed never again to see the light of day. Then, last week, Abby had her school atheletic’s carnival and the theme for her house (Stella – red) was “Sleepover”. Perfect – she had her red cat in the hat pyjama pants and red long sleeved t-shirt to wear, all she needed was a red quilt. She asked for one – honestly! She wanted a quilt for her and her friends to spread out and sit on. Hmmmm ….. I seriously wondered whether I could whip up a red quilt in the same week I had two essays due. Thankfully I remembered this beautiful Red & White Gothic – but wasn’t sure how much was still left to finish.
I had visions of it being a huge amount of work – not so, thank goodness. There was a wee bit of quilting to be stitched in the bottom right hand corner and then the binding to add. Given my time poor status, I did not drag my way through all the boxes in the sewing shed, looking for a good piece of fabric for binding. Nah, I called into Amitie on my way to the greengrocer and found the perfect piece there (“she’ll find any excuse to buy fabric!”, my family wail, shaking their scolding heads!).
Now, this bit of quilting and binding was finished in the wee hours of the morning before Abby went to the carnival, and in a cranky, sleep deprived rush to get to bed, I used a red thread to sew down the binding. I don’t like it. It stands out too much. It needs to be pink. I know I often declare myself capable of living with all manner of oopses – but this one, it’s on the list to rip out and do again. Just offends me everytime I look at it.
Apart from that – I am ever so pleased with how it turned out. I ADORE the fabric!!! So pretty, so striking – and a wee bit Adam’s Family! I haven’t seen anything by Jane Sassaman for ages … just called by FreeSpirit’s website to take a look and they’re listing “Garden Divas” as her latest – haven’t seen it anywhere – have you? It’s lovely – very kaleidoscopy with more moths and spiders and birds. I bet Ms. Sassaman reads A.S. Byatt, don’t you think – she seems to have that same Victorian fascination with insects. I’ve got some more of the Prairie Gothic in the sewing shed – not this colourway but the black and blue, and a white with a large overall floral pattern in that crewel work style. Yum! I’m not sure what I’ll do with it yet – I need to pull it out, look at it for a while and then hang out at the patchwork store to ponder what might look good with it.
The design – I can’t remember what inspired me – will have to check back on the blog when Julian fixes it. Have you noticed that you can only ever see one page of any category or month on blockaday at the moment? There doesn’t seem to be an option to go backwards. This isn’t Julian’s fault – he didn’t design this blog layout – but he does assure me he can fix it. Good man – get to it. I do love the jagged-ness of the red zigzags – they complement those spidery legs nicely. And they seem to be quite the thing at the moment with Happy Zombie’s fabulous zigzag quilt showing up on every lucky soul who went to the Spring Quilt Market’s blog. Of course – hers is a bit more complicated and extra lovely in that gorgeous fabric of hers, but my old red and white gothic still has a zig and a zag so despite its age, we could pretend it’s all part of the in-thing :-)
The quilt was greatly appreciated on the day of the carnival – it was a bleak, windy, cold day and Abby reports that she spent most of it wrapped up in the quilt. It’s that blanket backing – a physicians blanket, guaranteed to keep away dangerous chills. Now it is sitting here on the armchair for our cold winter evenings, ::shiver:: and it’s cold. Before the sun vanished this eve, the wind whipped up (those weather folk tell us it’s coming straight from the antarctic), the light shivered and grew green, and then the rain came, slow and plodding at first – kindly giving me time to dash outside in my slippers and whip in the washing from the line. Now it’s thick and drenching, and the sky is oh so dark as the trams and cars whoosh by, rushing to get home. Very wintery indeed.
thank you for all the get well wishes :-) I’m am almost over it, thank goodness, just a hacking cough left. And for those interested, I found a source for the Penguin cups (we got ours at a local bookstore).
My thumbs are decidedly black. There, I’ve said it. I would LOVE to be a gardener. I LONG to have a beautiful garden full of good things to eat and pick and admire. Perhaps one day, when we have our own garden, rather than one that we know we will be leaving in the not to distant future (well, hopefully not for at least 3 more years!) we will be inspired to really give it a good go. Until then, our gardening is rather hit and miss as we make use of the existing beds (largely in the shade!) and tend to our crops with a mixture of zeal and skepticism.
Creating a little flower bed from wool, felt and skewers indoors? Now that’s right up my alley. On my walk last week, I found a fascinating second hand store that specialises in industrial goods – lots of furniture (of the metal variety), lighting, equipment (I think, perhaps, we really need an old metal and cloth linen trolley, not sure where we would put it, but it sure would look awesome!) and glassware from old hospitals and laboratories, macabre specimen bottles, anatomical dummies and posters, furniture, lighting and tools from old technical colleges etc. Very intriguing. And on one shelf, a huge collection of glass bottles – all shapes and sizes – including a box of wee rounded medicine jars with narrow necks from which the dose would be syringed. Hundreds of them and I couldn’t resist just a few. So home they came.
I pondered what to do with them all week – flowers were the obvious choice – but we have none to pick (see above) and I’m not a big buyer of flowers – expensive and sometimes dubious origins (I’ve read about roses being flown into Australia everyday from China – what an atrocious waste of oil!). Then I read an article in the Country Living about making easter eggs – they used styrofoam egg shapes around which they wound strips of paper. They looked lovely and I thought a similar technique could be used to make flowers but I refuse to craft with styrofoam – not at all eco-friendly – so wondered what I could use instead.
Yarn! Sometimes, when I’m too lazy to set up the swift to wind my hanks of yarn, I hang the hank around my knees and wind it into a ball by hand (ludicrous, I know, takes much much longer than if I was to use the swift, but … what can I say) and I just love the hard little wee balls of yarn I end up with. So there I was thinking I could wind little balls of yarn and then cover them with strips of fabric. At this point, I stopped – cover them with fabric? Why? Imagine how pretty all the colours would look just as they are!
So, Friday night – we chose a cosy evening at home over Jack Sparrow in order to save my lungs from the cold, sharp night air – we settled onto the sofa, me with a basket of yarn scraps, green felt and the kitchen bamboo skewers, Abby with her feltie making supplies, and had a lovely night in.
I wound a small ball of yarn (most of the wool is the leftovers from the ripple blanket I crocheted last year), left a six inch tail, shoved a skewer into the middle (I wiggled/pushed until I could feel the skewer’s tip on my finger), wound the tail around the skewer close to the bottom of the “flower” and tied a couple of knots, threaded the end of the yarn onto a sharp needle and pushed it into the flower and pulled it out the opposite side and trimmed the end flush with the flower, cut out a wee circle of green felt, pinked it’s edges by hand, snipped a tiny hole in the middle and slid that up the skewery stem so that it sat neatly under the flower. Talk about good fun. I kept going until I’d used all the skewers. I like three flowers per bottle so will need to buy another packet of skewers.
I just love my wee flower bed :-) You might have noticed, I’m rather fond of colour – our home surely bursts with it – and another opportunity to add cheery prettiness during our long grey winter is one I am incapable of refusing. And there is certainly potential for flower balls in a colour I don’t care for, but have a lot of, to be covered in scraps of pretty fabric and tied up to make a frothy top like you’d find on a thistle. Hmmm …
Here we are on Friday eve. We’ve almost made it to the end of the first week without Julian. Two more weeks to go. On top of that empty spot here in Bootville, I have had a cold all week. Just the usual sniffles, aches, streaming eyes, thumping head and sore throat. But I have to confess, I find it hard to remain cheery and energetic in the face of Jule’s absence when I’ve blown my nose raw and showering hurts my skin – do you get that when you have a cold – does your skin hurt? Or is it just me being especially pathetic?
Today was a combination of glum and a teensy bit of satisfaction as I finished my last day of classes for the semester. I handed in my last assignment, picked up my lab report and in-class anatomy quiz, opted out of a prac on balance – didn’t know how much I could contribute given I was pretty busy blowing my nose – and headed home via the butcher and greengrocer.
From this moment, things perked up nicely. Look at this … the greengrocer is now stocking … ta-da!
It’s my all time favouritest milk in the whole wide world all the way from Goondiwindi Queensland!!! I know, bad food miles, but gee whizz – this just plasters a big, I-don’t-feel-so-very-far-away-from-home smile on my face. Another two weeks without Julian – sure! I have Barambah milk! (should probably check back next Friday to see if this is still working ;-)
Then Abby came home with “We made the weirdest yoghurt custard cakes in cooking this afternoon.” “Really?” I asked, bemused. “Was it like a panacotta?” “Huh?” she replied. “No it’s a cake.” Walks off. I follow, asking “Would you like a toasted muffin for afternoon tea?” “No, I have heaps of weird yoghurt custard cakes in my bag, do you want one?” And she pulls out … friands, complete with a toasted coconut topping …
Ooooh – now we’ve got freshly baked cakes with Barambah milk. And to warm us up .. a nice cup of tea, Abby’s in her Agatha cup, mine in my Virginia cup.
Yep, things are looking much better. Now the question is, do we stay at home, be grateful for the sweetness that came our way this afternoon and watch a good film together – maybe some Agatha? Or do we dare head out into the night (with my cold) and see the new Pirates of the Caribbean at the cinema? Hmmmm …
I love fireplaces … do you remember when I was making a quilt to keep by the fireplace? Well we kind of got our fireplace here in Melbourne – there’s three in fact, and three gloriously tall chimneys. Only problem is, all the fireplaces are boarded up. Ugh! In the sitting room, the beautiful huge fireplace has a hideous huge electric heater bunged into it – that cannot be used I might add (and wouldn’t want to anyway). In the front room, there’s a lovely curved art deco fireplace with a leaping reindeer carved into the mantelpiece – boarded up with a dodgy non-working power point in the middle of it (clearly must have once housed the twin to the sitting room’s electric winner). And in the kitchen is a huge old fireplace with chimney still open – and a new gas stove and bench built into it. Not that I’m complaining about a nice gas stove but as I whack my forehead into the mantle shelf whilst stirring the porridge – I do this every morning, whack my head that is, the mantle shelf is clearly at just the wrong height for me – I do dream wistfully of the old wood burning stove that must once have filled this cavernous space.
There’s not much I can do about the electric heater or gas stove but I reckon the potential is there for getting in an electrician to remove the dodgy power point, taking out the thin piece of fibro that’s covering the fireplace opening in the front room, cleaning her up and getting her going for this winter. Julian’s exceptionally sceptically. Well, just to egg him on a little, I’ve rearranged the front room again – he’s away, and I literally started rearranging as his taxi pulled away from the curb on Sunday night :-). The two old black armchairs we found on a trip to Daylesford last year are now positioned in front of the boarded up fireplace, I’ve had new foam cut for their seats (they had old manky foam), bought some gorgeous thick, lush deep orange corduroy to cover the foam (with all the necessary zips and piping cord), and have made a new fireplace cushion for one armchair and the other has the flower cushion on it.
:: the nice thing about living in a small home, is that no matter what each of us pursues, we are always close by ::
:: yet another blanket backing – despite looking lovely here, this blanket has plenty of holes and stains – good candidate for chopping up ::
:: the whirlygig – I’ve not made this block before – it was such a pleasure I might need to make more ::
The covers for the seat cushions will be a big project – they have to be boxed cushions with piping top and bottom – a wee bit challenging but I figure I’ll just plod away at it. Do all the cutting out, make the piping, sew the zippers into the side panels etc. Julian’s away for three weeks – should be enough time.
:: finished – and whipped outside for a quick photo shoot before the light vanishes ::
:: it’s machine quilted with a guterman’s topstitching thread – it’s very thick and sits very proud – I think I like it but it surely didn’t go very far ::
:: the corduroy – I love corduroy and this feels so soft and thick and velvety – lovely for winter ::
For now, the armchairs look like wallflowers at a Saturday dance – hovering in front of the fireplace, their dresses a bit daggy but pretty flowers in their hair, just waiting for something wonderful to happen. I want to get some glass jars to put candles in, then I can sit them in the fireplace for some real flame action. Oh dear, that’s a desperate image – Abby and I, perched on the edge of our armchairs trying to toast marshmallows over candles!! No, the power point and sheet of fibro just have to go. And I need to find the fireplace quilt top so that I may finish it – now that could be the hardest part of the whole exercise.
Do you remember an age ago when I stitched a new runner for the table? And I mentioned that the Indian quilt pieces I added were scraps from a different project? Well this is it .. my quilted winter dress that I am LIVING in.
I used the elephant dress as my template, but cut carefully, trying to incorporate all the panels of the quilt, and the lovely blanket stitched edges. The shoulders and neck are bound in some bias cut Kaffe Fasset.
I cut the skirt with the back much wider than the front. This allowed me to bring each edge of the back around to the front and top stitch the blanket stitched edges over the front panel. It reminds me of the Elizabethan fashion where the under skirt peeped out from under the heavy, embroidered overskirt. Almost …. I can dream, can’t I :-)
I especially love this soft olive green colour – it is my favourite part of the dress. I bought the quilt last year from a local store – Tree of Life – and have no reason to think it is vintage, but to me, the fabric has a charming old world look. It reminds me of the cloth you see in french provincial interiors – which I guess, would have originally come from India.
And quilted dresses used to be very much the thing – a beautiful book Julian gave me for Valentine’s Day a few years ago describes the Italian practice of wearing quilted petticoats being adopted by the women of southern France in the 19th century who, instead of hiding all that effort, quilted their outer skirts with exquisite, delicate, yet dense quilting.
So here I am in 21st century Melbourne with a quilted dress. It is delightfully warm, very very comfy and I adore wearing it. Just right for the coming winter.
note: very strange – I worked on this post last night – and uploaded it and looked at it a few times – and then this morning “poof!” it was gone. No record of it ever existing and the photos were all broken and had to be re-uploaded twice more. I’m baffled. So if you’ve already seen this, sorry for the repeat performance, and if not, hope it works this morning! lily
Listening to the radio this morning (I’m a big ABC local radio fan – Red sends me out into the world each morning with a giggle and Lindy’s warmth, passionate curiosity and wit makes me feel like I belong in Melbourne) I discovered that today is “Walk The Block Day”. Oh I’m very guilty of regularly indulging in very sedentary days – there’s always something craftily lovely to keep me indoors and seated. Now on Tuesdays, I have a two hour break between classes and usually spend this working in the library, but today, inspired by those folk at Victoria Walks, I thought I would walk the block.
I cannot believe all that follows was literally around the corner from my university campus – around the corner, along a beautiful tree lined, cobbled edged street, onto a busier road lined with the most enchanting stores, cafes and homes. I’ve been missing out on this for 13 weeks – what a numpty!
:: perfectly yellow ::
:: the yellow door’s poorer but still charming cousin ::
:: a sweet bird girl ::
:: always a good place to find things ::
:: purveyors of glorious clothes ::
:: not open – great shame – huge basket of wallpaper offcuts – yum ::
:: coy red ::
:: possible option for screen printing workshops – and I’d get to wear a habit ::
:: yeah ::
:: thankfully closed – avoided spending silly amounts of money ::
:: beautiful, beautiful, beautiful – the chewiest, yummiest organic sourdough ever ::
:: seriously talented folk decorate the windows round here ::
:: so energising ::
:: oh poor dear house, I’ll come look after you! ::
Can you believe this was all around the block – and I’d never bothered to look. Silly, silly me! So much art and beauty and exercise – what more could a girl want.
My Blackwork book arrived and it’s so lovely. Plenty of good charts with lots of elements with which to build my own samplers – flowers, leaves, borders, animals, funny little men (with very funny pokey out bits), and lots of “fills”.
There’s good historical information about the art of blackwork – believed to have originated in the Middle East and travelled across the Mediterranean with the Moors to Spain and to other parts of Europe with the crusaders. Catherine of Aragon is said to have brought it with her to Henry VIII’s court in England – she was a passionate embroiderer, highly skilled and cheerfully shared all that she knew with the women of her court. During her reign it became know as Spanishworke. Predictably enough, once Henry had shoved poor Catherine out of the way the allusion to its Spanish importer was dropped and it was renamed Blackwork. People worked the designs onto their clothes, their bedlinens, and their wall hangings. The lower classes used the intricacies of Blackwork as a substitute for unaffordable lace. And there’s also a very useful chapter on how to mount and frame your work if so desired – traditional techniques used yet manageable. It’s all very inspiring.
These lusciously deep borders were used to edge linen bed sheets – do I want these edging my sheets? Why yes, I surely do! That will require a trip to the embroidery store in Wattletree Road Malvern to buy some of their lovely linen tape upon which to embroider my designs and then I can stitch my embroidered lengths onto my exsiting white summer sheets. Definitely a long – long – long – long term project. But can you imagine how lovely it will once done!? Every morning that I make the bed will be oh so sweet. And a lampshade – don’t you think a deep band of blackwork would look lovely on a plain white lampshade – I even have one that would be perfect. I’m practically twitching with anticipation.
For now, I’ve started a smallish hoop of palest grey and am stitching in a variegated DMC red. You’re “allowed to” – check out the definition (and all the marvellous resources! ) of blackwork here – it’s delightful! Black, except when it’s not. Reversible, except when it’s not. Counted, except when it’s not. What excellent stitchers these blackworkers are with their accomodating rules :-) There are so many generous resources on the web to get you started – check out here, here, and here. Encourages one to look more closely at the portraits from blackwork’s heyday – so many exquisite examples of highly intricate and detailed work on smocks, cuffs, collars, hems etc. I don’t know that Julian will want the collars on his business shirts embroidered with blackwork, but oh there’s so much scope for Abby’s and my clothes!
The wee flower at the top left was my first motif. The little man next – nowadays we call them boxers, because of their stance – I’ve seen them on antique samplers for years and not only did I not know they were called boxers, but I’ve never considered them to be boxers. Clearly, not a pugilist bone in my body. I’ve always thought they looked slightly naughty – I imagine medieval and tudor women stitching them into their samplers with quite a giggle.
The whole hoop will be all filled in – with whatever fits in a pleasingly busy and crowded manner. It is very addictive … my hoop is resting on the sofa in the kitchen, my spool of thread, scissors and book on the stool in front, and each day, I’m determined to sit down with my coffee or tea and add just another wee motif. This morning’s was the flower on the point. Completely absorbing, an hour disappears like that! And soon, I’ll have a “redwork” hoop to hang on the blank wall aside the kitchen sofa – it shall become my red wall. Little bit by little bit.
Ahhh – wintery, Melbourne rain. No hope of the washing drying outside, so it’s draped across the chairs, the folding lines are hustling for space in the front hall, and the long hangables are monopolising the doorways. Always such a good look. And the lamps are lit at lunchtime, yep. It’s wet, wet, wet and cold. Absolutely time to push aside the books for a few hours and put that lovely old machine through its paces with a flannel nightie for me.
It’s been a whole year since I last thought of making myself a nightie – in that time, my old pink spot that I bought when Abby was a baby because it had a lovely deep bodice that could be unbuttoned for breast feeding gave up the ghost. The fabric across the upper back become so thin it actually shredded in the washing machine one day. Despite some serious looking, I’ve not found any for sale in the stores. And the nights and early mornings are chilly-chilly. It was time to find me some flannel and get sewing.
This piece is perhaps a wee flamboyant but pickings are slim and the little girl part of me is still secretly delighted with all the pink and red and hearts and flowers. Besides, it was $5 a metre so 6 metres and $30 later I have plenty for a nightie and two pillowcases. I’ll match the pillowcases – how alluring will that be ;-) At least I’m not making a matching cap! Seriously – one of my nightie patterns includes a pattern for one of those fluffy shower cap style things to wear to bed. Oh my, I would die laughing, let alone Julian, if I found myself in bed with matching nightie, pillowcases and cap!
I used the bodice and sleeve pieces from Simplicity 3573 – the large size which is toooooo big, definitely only needed the medium, never mind – and measured the length from lower bodice edge to floor, added an inch and a half, then simply cut two full widths of fabric at this length for the skirt. And pleated it on rather than gathered. I’m over gathers. Too fiddly and takes ages. Pleating – so simple. I do LOVE my nighties to have plenty of length and room in the skirt. Means I can tuck myself up on cold nights, my legs and feet so snug.
However, the sleeves, whilst delightfully voluminous, are a bit short, my wrists hang out. Note to self: add length to sleeves next time. The buttonholes are stitched through three layers of flannel – boy do they sit well. Good reminder to use interfacing next time I stitch buttonholes on lightweight fabric. These ones are picture perfect (as opposed to my usual bodgy ones). And the neck -I didn’t actually read what the pattern said to do – I added a binding, cut on the bias from a patchwork cotton. It is a little too wide and adds more chaos with its pattern but nevethless, stitched on quite nicely.
Oh and another surprise that I haven’t yet shared – whilst my lovely Mum was visiting for Easter she bought me my very own first overlocker (serger). Eeeeeek! It too had its first outing with the nightie. So good – doesn’t it make such a difference to the finish. Thank you dear Mum :-)
Now that the nightie’s all sorted technically – established the required size, know where to add length, thoughts on improving the neckline – I almost feel as if I need to make another to get it all just right. Hmmm … maybe a trip to the mega fabric store for more cheap fabric is in order.
Maybe, but not now. Home is such a good place to be right now and this one’s just fine. I shall put dinner on instead and get back to memorising the order of the cranial meninges, happy and toasty. I mean, why WOULDN”T you want a flannel nightie!
There we were at Mo’s Antiques, Chewton. A very sweet establishment. I rambled about slowly, looking at kitchen wares and china, hoping for some pretty doilies or fabric, maybe a cane workbasket or some bone handled knives. Abby was goodness knows where, probably wondering how long we were going to take, and Julian had made a beeline for the back corner. That seems to be where most of the electrical things, cameras and tools are kept in the antique stores we visit – the things he loves to pore over.
Funny difference between he and I – he is perfectly happy to look, that’s the pleasure for him. He will cheerfully and carefully inspect all the goodies, read the manuals if they are there, turn the item over and over in his hands, noticing what it is made from, commenting on the workmanship etc. And then he is perfectly happy to put it back on the shelf and leave empty handed. I have to confess, I find this approach quite baffling. I always manage to find something that I would really really love to take home with me. What’s the point in thinking it’s marvellous if you leave it behind! (I clearly have consumerist issues that need addressing!)
However, on Sunday, he beckoned to me from the darkened back corner. “Look at this,” he said, all smiles, “I think I’ve found the perfect Mother’s Day present.” Indeed he had! It was an immaculate, belt driven, electric Singer 201-3 made in Scotland in 1948. Shiny black with beautiful gold art deco paint work. And a perfectly rounded wooden case. And a pedal. And little wooden reels of thread. And when Mo plugged it in, it worked like a dream.
Here he is – mightily pleased with his find. Isn’t he a sweetie! Mo was at pains to point out that he had locked the case – it could now be carried by the handle. But have you ever picked up one of these things! By golly it is extraordinarily heavy – and Mo wanted to rely on two wee projections of metal clipped into wood at one end!. Julian was having none of that.
Once home, we set it up, I grabbed some fabric and we tried it out. Oh it stitched like a dream. The stitches were perfectly even, straight as a die, and the machine is quiet. That’s right, all that heavy iron and it softly whooshes as it races along. Julian then carefully took it apart, cleaning and oiling every nook and cranny. He spent hours. He even found me a PDF of the user’s instructions and a service manual on line. Then it was my turn to thread it and try it out. I thread it so many times – and yet the stitches underneath were ludicrously loose and horrible. Ohhh – it was one of those moments. I thread it and stitched. Thread it and stitched. Thread it and stitched. Nope. Julian look very worried. He had me read the instructions out loud whilst I completed each step. When it had finished describing the complicated threading of the top, I put the ipad down, shoved the thread through the needle and tried again. Nope.
“You didn’t finish reading the instructions” Julian accused. “I don’t need to be told how to thread the needle,” I retorted but I picked it back up and read that last bit.
Thread the needle from right to left. Y-e-e-e-s. Right to left. I had been threading it left to right (as per my husqvarna quilter). Amazing how well the machine worked after I’d threaded it properly :-)
So here we are, on Wednesday eve and I’ve made my first item on my beautiful Mother’s Day sewing machine. I can say without a shadow of doubt, this Singer 201-3 sews better than any of my machines (Husqvarnas) or any of my family’s (Berninas) or school’s machines (Elnas). Seriously – it’s marvellous! I mean, it only does a straight stitch but that’s all I want when I stitch. Anything more elaborate I do by hand. And it’s so darn pretty. Check out the gorgeous front plate …
Shiny goodness! Julian read in one review that sewing with a Singer 201-3 is like driving a Porsche.
This is the stitch length and reverse – the numbers refer to how many stitches per inch. You loosen the screw, move the lever to the number of stitches you want, push the screw up as high as it will go, tighten it – which pushes out a precisely positioned little wedge so that when you want to reverse, you lift the lever to the wedge – reverse – and then it goes back to the selected stitch length. And those stitches are spot on. The feed dogs work perfectly and the stitch length never alters no matter how thick the fabric or how firmly or loosely you are guiding it. Unreal!
I thought about keeping the cotton reels as a memento of the day … and then I decided no! Our machine is the memento of the day – cotton reels are bought to be used. So I’m using them. The thread is lovely and sturdy – so much thicker than modern thread and sits proudly atop the fabric when you stitch with it. Wish all thread did that. I don’t like skinny little nothing thread.
And here I am, winding the bobbin. You won’t believe this. The bobbin in the bobbin case had rusted, and the thread, rusted onto it. No good. So Julian got one of the bobbins from the Husqvarna quilter (which is a semi industrial machine) and it is the PERFECT fit for the 1948 Singer. Even has the tiny hole to anchor it to the bobbin winder, and the little hole to poke the thread through. Who ever would have thought. And yes, it works like a dream! The bobbin fills smoothly and firmly all the way to the top.
Ahhhh .. sewing bliss.
Check out them stitches!
My old husqvarna – Julian bought it for me 13 years ago with his first work bonus – is just not keeping up. It still makes a lovely button hole and does quite a sweet little applique stitch. But regular straight stitching – dodgy as. And zigzagging – useless. I’ve had it serviced only recently, changed the needle, etc. etc. I just don’t think they’re made to last. Everything jiggles and wiggles and is overly complicated.
Not my Singer 201-3 – 63 years old and it’s as good as it was the day it left that Scottish factory. Do I sound smitten? I am :-) I am just tickled pink to be sewing with something that has served good folk well for almost 70 years! I hope we can keep it going for at least another 50 or more – then I’ll hand it on to Abby’s grandchildren so that they may sew for their families. That’s how it should be.
Oh, the one funny bit – the light. It has a bakelite cover. Only, the heat from the light has melted a hole through it over the bulb :-0 I only have it on here to show you. Julian won’t let me use it. I protested, “It’s lasted this long.” He shrieked – “It’s burnt a bloody hole through the bakelite!”
Quite right I guess. Thank you dear boy for my lovely new old machine. It’s certainly the best mother’s day present this mother could ever want.
p.s. for the curious – it was $70.
That makes me sound rather daring. I’m not at all :-) My idea of adventuring is to hop into the car with Julian and Abby and head off for the day to a place we’ve never before visited. We’re happy to drive for a couple of hours – with plenty of stops for photos and bakeries and antique stores and parks – and we don’t even really need to arrive for it to qualify as a successful adventure. Sometimes we’re so happy with what we find along the way the original destination almost slips our mind. Never mind, that just means it’s back on the list for next time.
So Mother’s Day, after we savoured the crepes with lemon and icing sugar Julian cooked for breakfast, we rugged up and hit the highway, bound for Guildford. Apparently there’s a big tree there. We didn’t find it – but we did find many lovely spots a long the way.
There was the Malmesbury Botannical Gardens – a heritage listed park that’s in dire need of an energetic and passionate community based support group. It’s all very well to be heritage listed but surely that means the powers that be need to do more than just provide a majestic and beautiful old garden with the occasional run through with a clumsy tractor and an equally dodgy whip and snip! I won’t mention “the pruning” or maintenance of the old stone work, lakes and streams. And I especially won’t tell you about the large number of huge old trees that have been recently chopped down, their jagged stumps the last things left to hold the riverbank intact. My inexperienced eye feels sure this is a garden that is doomed to suffer a similar fate to some heritage listed buildings – no overt demolition, just terrible neglect until there’s nothing left to be saved. And yet the history! The time, effort and love that has been put into this garden. If you happen to find yourself hooting along the Calder Highway one day, you really must jump off, head to Malmesbury and wander the gardens. Quite magical.
Chewton – a tiny village with beautiful wee buildings that Abby and I agreed looked like something out of 10th Kingdom or Zelda. Oh my is this place CUTE! And quirky! And the folks of Chewton are really keen on their wee village. I told Abby we’d move there and I’d homeschool her and we’d live in a teeny tiny stone cottage and keep chickens and pigs and I’d be the local baby catcher. She couldn’t picture it with my clarity. Must be ’cause she’s thirteen and all.
Castlemaine – oh be still my beating heart! What a gorgeous country town – we can’t wait to go back and stay a weekend at the Gables Bed and Breakfast, mostly so we can hang out at the old cinema on a Saturday night. That and to take photos since the camera card was full of Malmesbury and Chewton.
And Guildford – beautiful countryside and glorious old buildings – but I think we need a guided tour Kerrie ;-)
:: malmesbury gardens – in dire need of a Mary Lennox and a Dicken ::
:: chewton – where most of the buildings had more chimneys than rooms ::
:: on the road ::
And guess what! We brought home more than just photos and good cheer … but you’ll have to come back tomorrow to see what :-) It’s really quite wonderful!
