Isn’t this web thing amazing!? In the comments from yesterday’s post on my colourful yo-yo girl, Amy from Seven Stitches let me know that the little hanging wooden doll from the picture is a Mary Lou doll. A wooden hanging doll that has been made in New Zealand since the early 1940s. (I must add here, that unlike all the shopping recommendations I have found, I would not recommend a Mary Lou doll as a teething toy – hanging out of reach, yes – all those little wooden thimbly-beads in the mouth – absolutely no.)
As I began looking around the web at pictures of them, I remembered my father having one – my Nanny-Dougall saved EVERYTHING from my father’s childhood – we even have his school exercise books! And there was definitely a Mary Lou doll – rather battered and chipped – and do you know, I think it was in a bakelite kind of plastic, not wood.
So there you go! I was going to call her Lolly Polly – and still might, quietly, when no one is listening – but she’s really a Mary Lou. I just love being able to add another wee bit of trivia to the chaotic library that is my mind :-)
The cool, drizzly rain kept me indoors all morning – stitching, stitching, stitching – putting together the pieced borders for Mary Lou. I love the hand stitching bits – the layers of felt and linen feel so podgily stiff and … really good.
But the minute the sun came out – albeit, literally only for five minutes – I was out on the porch with the camera. I’m very fond of this quilt’s arrangement – the narrow strips of rosy linen with the wide, colourful rectangular frames. And Mary Lou looks very pleased with herself.
I adore the colours – I was going to use reproductions and even made six yo-yos – but it was SO not working. So I turned to my favourites – bit of Kaffe, bit of Wee Play, bit of Aunt Grace – and that red! It’s my second favourite red (the first being the red Wee Play). It looks just perfect for a little person just starting out.
Look at Mary Lou’s lovely cheeks – to stitch them as lines is an idea Abby and I love from the ak traditions doll kit. Yes, it works very prettily and unlike the pastels I have used for years, will not rub off.
Some little wonky felt pennies. I’ve given up on centring. No matter how hard I try to get it right, I just don’t. And then it’s a few millimetres out and I seethe each time I look at it. So no more! Everything will be cheerful wonky. Mmh!
And what’s it going to be. Well here’s a confession. When I was pregnant, oooh you know, 12 years go, I wanted to make my baby a quilt to hang on her door or wall that said “… sleeps here”. I had one when I was little and it hung in my room until I left home in my early 20s! But I didn’t know whether the baby – affectionately called Toby – was a boy or a girl – and thus, what his or her name would be. Everyone said, never mind! Just wait until the baby is born and there’ll be plenty of time to make one. So I did. But there wasn’t plenty of time. And the years have rolled by and my dreamed of hanging has never materialised.
The Mary Lou quilt is it. This evening I have sat and embroidered words around the corner stone pennies – dream, read, play, draw – acknowledging all the things Abby enjoys in her room. She’s always been such a busy and focussed little person. She cheerfully disappears into her bedroom for hours – especially straight after school or a busy, social day. It’s as if she needs that focussed solitude to restore herself. And then out she skips, all happy and bright – brandishing a new drawing or full of the latest chapter in her novel.
Tomorrow, when the light returns, I shall embroider her name across the top of the centre linen panel. And I’ve even bought the backing and batting – bamboo – first time I’ve tried it.
So there you go Abby – it’s taken 12 years, but by the end of the week, you’ll have your “Abby sleeps here” hanging.
I was sitting out on the back porch, the first day of winter’s sun setting the table afire with it’s warmth, then snatching it back, hiding behind thick, gloomy clouds. There was tea in my hand and I was still – captivated by the echo-y words coming from Julian’s laptop in the next room, of Elizabeth Gilbert as she related Ruth Stone’s story about the importance of catching a poem as it came rushing by her in the fields of Virginia. ‘Cause if she didn’t chase it down and put it to paper, it would simply dance away from her and seek out another poet.
At first, I felt timid about assuming I knew just how Stone felt – how arrogant, to hint that I could understand the sentiments of such a lauded poet. But then Gilbert continues, impressing upon her audience how important it is that we stop believing that talent belongs only to a privileged few and instead, embrace the fact that we all have talent – it just depends whether we choose to embrace it, work diligently – obsessively – at it and plod along gamely, putting in the hours, weeks, months, and years required to polish and shape it; or fall prey to the oft-heard advice to cast aside such fancies and get a real job. And I thought – yes, I do know exactly how Ruth Stone feels.
Sometimes, when I’m sitting with tea in my hand, or cooking Abby’s breakfast, or scrubbing my hair in the shower – anywhere! – an idea or a piece of fabric that has been percolating gently away in the back of my mind for however long, suddenly leaps out, and dances cheekily in front of me. And I’m mad with enthusiasm to stop whatever I’m doing and grab the fabric and scissors and paper and pencil and get to it. And truly, if I don’t, the idea does indeed give up, flops to the ground, becomes a bit grimey around edges, and then poof – it’s no more.
So when the lecture finished, and I was flipping through a magazine and saw this …
I snatched up my paper and some pastels and drew this …
Then I could imagine it in fabric so made this …
Tonight, instead of going to bed with my knitting, I’m taking this … (sorry about the terrible late night photo)
And my to-do-list grows a little longer but I know that there are so many projects there that I love – in fabric – patiently waiting their turn to be finished. And it does happen sometimes :-)
Just to tempt you … from “Reading” by Ruth Stone
… A slow spiral of smoke
from green firewood
is reflected in her eyes.
She moves down an outside stair
absently driving the poultry.
The storks are standing on the roof.
The girl wraps her hands in her apron.
Small yellow flowers
have clumped among the tussocks
of coarse grass …
I can see it – I can sense the heaviness of the damp spring air, and smell the sharp tang of the smoke, and hear the busy chuckling of the hens as they bustle about, and feel the apron as I dry my hands. Beautiful.
Now go and put your latest idea to fabric or paper – it deserves it! :-)
You know how I said there were exquisite things at the Textiles Fair. Well, I didn’t tell you about the best bit. ak traditions.
OMG! They design, knit and sell the most gorgeous dolls, toys and baby knitting supplies I have ever seen. Completely different from the usual knitted toy range. I am in love. Smitten. Besotted. I want to move to Melbourne so I can go to their workshops.
Naturally, I had to have a little bit of this gorgeousness. I would have liked more, but you know, I try to be restrained (ha! ha! ha!) . So I bought their knitted doll kit – for Abby of course. And once she saw it - well! She is in love. Smitten. Besotted. All she wants me to do is knit. All day. Buy more. What can I do?
Knit. Knit little body fronts and backs. Little head fronts. Oooh I love shaping. Truly!
Oooh and aah and order and re-order the outfits we want to make. I want them in my size too – they’re too divine.
Discuss the merits of closed eyes vs. open eyes and whether all dolls should have mouths. (I am fiercely in favour of all dolls having mouths – especially girl dolls. It just strikes this political chord in me where I am outraged that any person – especially a girl! – should have no voice. This little rant is a forehead slapping, eye-rolling moment for Abby but I know that the upcoming 6 years of radical-feminist-social justice obsessed-passionate girls’ school education will set her straight. It did me ;-)
Knit little legs – by golly this took a while. All those wee stripes – I had yarn twisted every which way.
Really – you must go check them out. They are SO lovely.
Go! GO! btw, isn’t my new wool holder cool? It’s a polished coconut shell from Papua New Guinea. My mum brought it back – she expected I would put peanuts in it.
I worked today at the Brisbane Textiles Fair – if you’re around, you should call in – there’s many beautiful stalls and even more beautiful and interesting people wandering the aisles wearing all manner of gorgeous shawls, hats, scarves, necklaces – it’s a feast of texture, colour, fibre – mmmmm…. . And there are delicious wools – LOTS of delicious wools and Brisbane’s very own wool “witch” Prudence Mapstone. Oh! she knits and crochets pure magic with her fibres. She even has a Japanese wool and silk yarn that has stainless steel at its core. You knit or crochet it up and then you can SHAPE it. Good stuff.
So there was only time for a quick sit on the back porch this morning, soaking up the autumn sun, sustaining myself with tea and toast and … buttons. I had some buttons on the table the other day and arranged them into a wee flower. And it grew. In a very structured pattern. I’m such a stickler for repetitive patterns – what a silly I am! And then I brought out the pink buttons, then the orange buttons, then the yellow buttons, then the big jars of who-knows-what-colours-you-may-find buttons. Now the flower is more like a star burst.
And when I came home tonight, what did I see …
Playing with buttons – is it infectious? Or inherited?
You make it into a quilt, that’s what.
I bought this on ebay for 0.99 cents. That’s right, 0.99 cents. It was hideously stained when it arrived but I wasn’t daunted. No, no, I took it – and the equally stained apron that came with it for free (it was SUCH a bargain) – downstairs, shoved the whole lot into a nappy bucket, filled it with warm water and a LOT of Napisan. Two days later, it was bee-yoo-ti-fully clean and pretty.
But a bit odd – it’s not a real table cloth. I don’t think so. It’s a piece of hemmed fabric that has these nice stripes of hens and flowers. So I decided to chop it up. And add it to some patchwork fabric. Orange checked. With blue. And some red. Mmmm …
I love these colours together – what do you think? I think they are singing “Make me into a picnic quilt, roast a chicken, and let’s pack the hamper!” And yet they are such a grab-bag of fabrics – a bit of Wee Play, a bit of Dear Jane, a bit of Aunt Grace, and a bit of Moda French Country Inn. A perfect combination I think :-)
Let’s have another look – yeah! I think it will work. Now I just need to clear the table and get sewing.
“where are we going?”
“officeworks – I want to look at guillotines.”
“why? whose head are you chopping off.”
“ha! ha! ha! for card, silly.”
“what kind of card are you cutting that you need a special guillotine?”
“my postcards. I want them to look nice.”
[ slap of the forehead and roll of the eyes ]
“I wonder where they are?”
“In France, in a museum.”
“ha! Here they are. Oh my goodness, look at the price.”
“Dad will kill you.”
“As if I’d buy a $389 guillotine. Oh look – here’s a nice little $49 number.”
“Yay! We have a guillotine.”
“Now we’ll go home and have a nice afternoon tea and chop some paper – how does that sound?”
“Like I have my piano lesson in 7 minutes and did you bring my music?”
“What! I thought it was at 4.30! Why didn’t you say something?”
“I kept thinking you would surely stop obsessing over guillotines and remember! You are the mother!”
Now I’m the mother with a guillotine. Cool!
There I was, thinking I had nothing to share today. What had I done except race around like a demented muma – 7.33 deliver Abby to school for the 7.30 orchestra rehearsal, tear home to do the chores, 9.30 sprint across the carpark to work, 3.00 fly back to school to collect Abby and drop her at art class, tear home to do the chores and cook dinner, 5.15 back to collect Abby from art class, home again, finish dinner, supervise homework, wash the dishes, feed the dogs, plonk down on the sofa.
And in my tired, I-want-to-go-to-bed-head, I mulled over what to share here. I’ve sewed nothing, knitted only lace and you’ve seen that, cooked nothing of interest, drawn nothing of interest. All I’ve done is been a muma and served customers at a suburban quilt store. That brought a smile to my face. Serving customers is always sheer pleasure. I truly mean that. I love people. I really love people who sew and quilt. I love chatting with them, helping them choose their colours and fabrics, hearing about their families and projects. In fact, that period between 9.30 and 3 only felt like half an hour. Serious. As I frantically shoved the almost hundreds of bolts of fabric that had accumulated behind me over five and a half hours, back onto the jam-packed shelves, and labelled the leaning tower of fat quarters I’d cut, whilst cutting them for customers, I felt an immense sense happiness – and disbelief that I was already done for the day.
So – here are some of the lovely customers I met and served today.
Early up we had Sheila (real names have been changed to protect the innocent! :-). She had a huge bundle of 1930s fabrics for me to cut. And we hunted out a pretty pale blue grey to go with them – for! – a double wedding ring for her daughter. Daughter and son in law are moving into their new house soon and they are into minimalism so Sheila’s hoping her dwr will be gentle enough for them! Best bit – last November when Brisbane was LASHED by freak storms 3 days in a row, Sheila’s house flooded and her roof blew off. She’s still waiting for the contractors to get started on repairing her damages because she’s TOO NICE! They told her last week, because she hasn’t fussed and whinged and shouted, she just keeps getting put to the bottom of the list. Glory be! And this is the worst bit – she hasn’t been able to sew all this time, because after the storms, she packed up her sewing room really carefully, and lost the pedal to her Bernina. So today, she’s bought the fabric and she was leaving me to go to a nearby sewing machine supplier to BUY a new sewing machine – just a small cheap one, ’cause her niceness is running out! :-) p.s. she knows, as soon as she gets that small, cheap machine home, she’ll find her Bernina pedal. She’s kinda looking forward to this!
Next up we had Susan. She was looking quite lost in the flannel aisle. At this time of year (ie. colder weather finally arriving), this spells one thing to me. Newbie wanting to make a cosy quilt for the sofa. Right on lily! Susan already had two pieces of flannel and she need four more. She had a list of what she needed – a woman she works with had helped her write it and is going to teach her basic patchwork and help her make the flannel quilt. Isn’t that so gorgeous. I hear this story at least once every time I work. What is it about us stitchers that we have such a compulsion to SHARE! Warms my heart it does. And Susan’s hopeful her flannel quilt with warm her little peeps who told her it had to be purple.
Then I met Lisa. She was SOOOOOOO pregnant. Her baby is overdue and her mother has decided to teach her to sew – to help pass the time whilst they wait for baby number two. They are going to make 4 patch cushion covers, in beautiful Japanese reddy-browns and I introduced them to the love that is coconut shell buttons – they loved them too. Don’t you reckon, the minute they cut out those fabrics, baby2 will make a delightful entrance and the poor cushions will be marinating in the cupboard so long, Lisa won’t remember what they are!
Now these two – Pam and Barb – spent so long in the reproduction aisle pondering the subtleties of white on white I began to wonder if they would ever choose. They eventually settled on six pieces. I cut them their requested fat quarters and each one was newly exclaimed over and delightedly stroked as I folded it and popped it into the bag. I wished Pam happiness with her new fabrics – she was the one paying – and she hugged Barb and said, “Oh no! They’re not for me! It’s Barb’s birthday and coming here for the first time and choosing these together is part of my birthday treat for her.” Sweet.
Whilst cutting Pam and Barb’s fat quarters, I spied Una. I had spent a lovely afternoon a month or so ago, cutting a HUGE pile of Kaffe Fassett quarters for her – she was HUGELY pregnant, and in the last six weeks of her pregnancy, wanted to make her soon to be arriving daughter a Kaffe quilt. Lucky baby! However, baby came only a few days later – early, wee and underdone. So poor old Una has spent most of the last month at the hospital, loving and caring for little Brittany and now they are home. It has only been a week and Una looks so tired. We had a very wholesome and supportive chat about breastfeeding – you remember – breasts like hot watermelons that spurt everywhere the moment you look at them. Babies who shake their little heads and fuss and fuss and fuss as they try to latch onto your excruciatingly painful nipple – and then whip their heads off, cry and stick their fist in their mouth instead. I was full of empathy for Una – she’s a lovely girl. When she came in last time, she radiated energy and confidence. She is a different being at the moment – gosh aren’t those first few months as a new mum hard work. Una was buying more Kaffe fat quarters for Brittany’s quilt – and a heap of brown and golds for a nappy bag. I’m hopeful she’ll find some time. I’ll be cheering for her. And then! Una returned – with Brittany who had been sleeping in the car with her dad. Oh my goodness, she was BEAUTIFUL!!!! So tiny and pretty and a really round head. She snuggled into my arms with her round dark eyes peering intently at me, her arms and legs kicking rhythmically. It’s such a good thing, babes are so beautiful. Makes milk-spurting breasts and no sleep all worth it.
This pair – mum and daughter – had been roaming the store for at least two hours by the time I served them. What fun they had had! At one point, Sarah (daughter) was in fits of glee when she found the Very Hungry Caterpillar fabric. She rang her childrens’ Kindergarten teacher to ask her whether she’d like some – she was so very excited, the whole store could hear the conversation! Women, with their arms full of fabric, all over the store were listening with a smile and a shake of their heads. It was quite funny but awfully good natured. How wonderful when people find such PLEASURE! By the time they made it to the counter, they had at least 20 bolts of fabric – there were selections of brown and green and aqua for a quilt for Sarah’s bed, train fabric for her little boy, bolts just because they were lovely, and of course, the Very Hungry Caterpillar fabric. And Sarah’s mum kept disappearing only to pop back with one gadget after another and would ask – “How about this? I really like this. It’s so useful. Would you like one?” The best one was a safety pin shutter – I didn’t even know we had them. Sarah laughed out loud “Mum! I haven’t even finished a quilt top yet, let alone got to the stage of pinning it!” ”That doesn’t matter darling! I know you will and I love my safety pin shutter!” The mum was so cute. In the end, Sarah settled on a new rotary cutter – and it was her birthday so her mum was giving it for her. She hugged her mum and kissed her cheek. ”Thanks mum!” They left, bags bulging, off to find a restaurant to keep celebrating. (Grandad was at home looking after the peeps.)
Now this lovely customer – I so wanted to share her real name because she has a website and is selling the sweetest applique kits – but I’ve forgotten it! How hopeless is that. However, I do know where she is selling her kits, so I will call them and let you know the details. She was a real sweetie – and had her dear little boy with her – Finn, who’s almost two. He was such a good boy. Really well behaved and patient and full of smiles and words. Now back to the lovely customer. She had chosen some pretty 1930s fabrics and is cutting out appliqued bug jars from the fabrics (to put on children’s t-shirts and library bags and cushions etc.) and then has dear little rubber stamps made – this time of bugs – which she stamps onto fabric and then cuts that out, adds the vlisoflex and the “maker” can put them inside the bug jar. Huh! They were so sweet. I told her about my postcards – she was keen! (There’s a lot of percolating going on there readers – you never know!) Then we commiserated over the difficulties of taking good photos of our stitching in the swampy light that is Brisbane at the moment – and our lack of tripods. I said “It’s not as if I don’t have a good camera – it’s a Nikon D80.” ”So’s mine!” she shrieked. We bonded. Isn’t it marvellous how much creativity is going on out there. I adore meeting customers who are doing wonderful things.
And finally, on the lovely customer list – is Bronwyn the dragon gran. She had chosen some beautiful colours – truly lovely – and is making a dragon quilt for her grandchild. It will be mostly applique and will include not just dragons flying, but dragons SURFING – it was very important that the dragons surf. What an awesome gran – “I want a surfing dragon quilt gran” ”Sure darling – no probs.” Ah we had some good laughs – I charged her $8, 515, 600. She was cool with that.
You know what I do? So I remember my lovely customers? At the end of the day, I buy bits of the fabric they bought. Does that sound weird? Maybe. But I love it. So when I make my quilts and pillowcases and bags and aprons and all the things I inflict upon my family, I can remember – ah! these were the colours Bronwyn was using for the surfing dragon. And this is that lovely mum and daughter – we squabbled over the last 25 centimetres of the brown Flea Market Fancy! And these soft, pretty patterns were chosen by the talented mum of Finn.
So that was my day. Good stuff. I’m so lucky.
mmmh … there’s a bit of a theme going on here – lots of yellow and honey on the brain. Must be the lack of local sunshine.
I have to confess to being a soule-mama groupie and on long, quiet nights, can be found sitting up in bed, tea by my side, reading her archives. See, I didn’t find her until the second half of last year, so I’ve got a lot of reading to do before I catch up. Now – the other night, I found an entry about baking bread with honey, and it sounded so good, I had to try it.
And it IS so good. I didn’t follow her recipe because I buy a beautiful bread mix from one of the last family owned mills in Australia - Laucke of South Australia – it is so delicious and pure and good. So last night, when making bread for this morning, I added a tablespoon of honey to my regular Whole wheat dough, basted the top of the loaf with warmed honey, then sprinkled it with rolled oats. :: Quick intake of breath ::
It is beautiful – so moist – so yum! I don’t know if honey does something to the bread – you know, like added vitamin c keeps it fresh for longer. I did a quick google but didn’t find anything. Maybe you know?
Such beautiful bread needs a bread bag – especially since Carol-Ann now has my first one. Out came the osnaberg – I had more luck googling this – don’t you love the name! – it is named after the German city, Osnabruck and is a coarse, durable fabric. It has been made from flax, jute and tow (a mix of flax, jute and hemp) and is now made from short bits of cotton and waste cotton – sounds very practical and thrifty. And perfect for a bread bag.
I added a sunny hunny dresden plate with some wee owls in the centre (it’s that gorgeously perfect Alexander Henry fabric – or Henry Alexander – you know what I mean) …
and after appliqueing it on, pulled out the hot-favourite crochet cotton, and added some olde-worlde quilting. I LOVE it! Makes it look like the dresden plate came from an old cutter quilt. I reckon so :-)
I trimmed the top with some beautiful Finnish lace – thank you Anne! - and added a sneaker shoe lace. Julian has a fetish for coloured converse and replaces the laces with elastic for quick on and off – so I have bundles of pristine laces. Perfect for a bread bag drawstring. Don’t you just love the pretty lace with the workaday osnaberg.
Now our lovely sunny-hunny bread is nestled safely in it’s bag. I love adding crafted bits like this to my home. Makes my kitchen look so cheerful every time I walk in- like it’s winking at me, reminding me that good things happen here, and gives the place a stamp that declares “Lily lives here”.
the mohair kind that is
it’s slowly turning into a lace edging – :: a Very Pretty Vandyke Border :: – to be precise. From Cornelia Mee’s gorgeously titled book “Exercises in Knitting” via KnitWiki by way of Ravelry. Ah, what a gold mine that is. And thank you dear Amy for yesterday’s tip – that led to me being glued to the laptop well into the wee hours of the morning! All I now want to do is sit and knit.
Oh yes, the lace edging – it’s for the dandelion/polar bear wrap. For the long sides. I think I’ll need twenty repeats for each side.
It’s ever so cosy.
With lovely texture – I’m quite smitten.
as I am with this mohair honey. Abigail wants a shrug in it. I think I need a shawl in it. And maybe Jocelyn White’s beautiful Leafy Vine Scarf.
p.s. if you want to try novice lace knitting, whilst mohair may seem an odd choice, you’d be delighted to see how beautifully it hides mistakes :-) And I’m using 7mm needles instead of the recommended 5.5 – not only makes it go faster, but looks suitably mooshy like the wrap.
p.p.s. I bought the mohair for the wrap for only $1 per ball. How thrilling is that!
there may not have been much sun and we did stay home all day and some of us didn’t even manage to get out of our pyjamas, but we Boots found a recipe for a good Sunday today.
You start with homemade chocolate, cinnamon and brown sugar mini croissants for breakfast …
After an hour or so pottering about – Abby listening to a Harry Potter audiobook (actually, we were all listening, Stephen Fry is so very compelling!), Julian catching up on some sleep after arriving home from Mumbai last night at 11.30pm, and me piecing my fireside quilt – you all plonk down on the back porch, ignore the blustery rain, gobble up freshly baked sourdough rye and butter and have the BEST family draw.
The theme was our dream outfits. Abby had to offer her rusty parents mini drawing tutorials – Julian needed help with facial features, I hadn’t a clue how to do hands that were holding things.
And after a good three hours chatting, drawing, giggling, and reveling in being a family of three once again – there was much mirth when Julian insisted his pet of choice was a bicycle! …
… you sign off and head inside to play a little Banjo Kazooie – the old Nintendo version. It takes three to play you see – Abby to play, Muma to give encouragement (over there! over there! Careful you don’t fall! No don’t jump into the shark infested water!!!!) and Dad to handle the tricksy bits.
Then you all prepare dinner – the healthiest meal we’ve had in a week. When Julian’s away, I’m afraid I’m a lazy cook. And then – ’cause it’s nice and early still – you sit down together and watch a good adventure film whilst the wind and rain continue to tease poor old sodden Brisbane.
And the best bit of the day is the huge, relaxed, cheerful smile your little girl goes to bed with. That’s how you know you’ve hit upon a reliable recipe for a good Sunday.
As a muma, I am always needing to write notes. Notes for the teacher to explain why I would like Abigail to miss sport today (no need, the sporting fields were flooded), notes for the piano tutor, a thank you to a friend for lending me her book, the details of a play date for Abby’s friend’s mum, the details of bracelet making date, a personal note to accompany a school application, a quick recipe for a curious friend … I’m always writing notes. On dreadful bits of paper, or terribly impersonally, on the computer, printed out on a plain sheet of blah as I’m running out the door.
No more! After just one trip to Kikki-k – I’m too scared to go again as I was too thrilled with every little thing – I have become very fond of a book of postcards that I bought there on sale. This book has lived in my handbag for the last few weeks and has been trotted out 15 times. Now there are no pretty postcards left. I need more.
[ oh dear, despite failing a Year 11 field trip for my illustrations of mangrove plants not touching where they were supposed to touch, I still have a floating apple - what is to be done with me! ]
I could make one? Sadly, it would be without a spiral binding, but that’s okay. You see, all I need is a bundle of postcards, neatly stored in my handbag so that I can whip one out when needed.
So instead of spending the day as planned – finishing the Fireside quilt top, and building an Ikea blanket box – I sat on the back porch in a lovely patch of sun, and drew my own postcards. The first few were yuck. Then I remembered Abby’s oil pastels and before I knew it, it was school pick up time and I had churned out a bundle of cheerful pictures and an unsuccessful “back” .
In return for corn fritters and maple syrup, Abby showed me how to fix the back of my postcards using Pages (Julian will be so thrilled – he has been pestering me to use this programme for ages) and then I was REALLY humming.
I even found the perforating blade for my small rotary cutter – I like perforated edges.
Now I know Julian will fall over laughing when he sees how I printed these – let alone got the images onto the computer – and he will want to re-do them properly. That’s fine with me.
Until then, I have a lovely set of 12 postcards and a very sweet felt postcard folder to keep in my handbag. All ready for my notes. Much better than emails, or word documents or … shudder … telephone text messages! :-)
It’s all part of the grand plan of leaving my descendants boxes and boxes of “treasures” that they can spend hours hooting with laughter over, or be sentimentally captivated with. My postcards might even make nice presents themselves!
there is a fireplace …
and by that fireplace is a rocking chair …
and on that rocking chair is a quilt
and this is the quilt
it’s big … bigger than anything else I’ve done lately.
I’m excited – about the quilting – I’ve been practising.
But whilst the dream home may be a way off yet, we are so cosy tonight. We have new flannel sheets – with owls on them no less and candy striped fitted sheets! – new flannel jammies – my dandelion shawl is around my shoulders (didn’t I tell you about my dandelion shawl? I bought the wool – mohair – for a $1 a ball at Spotlight a month or so back and I’ve knitted a silly, huge, rectangular, cross between a dandelion and a polar bear shawl thing. It’s winter white – I shall buy some beautiful Noro and knit a lace edge for the two ends.) – we had homemade tomato soup for dinner (I got to peel the tomatoes – that always makes me feel like an amazingly accomplished woman) – and we’ve had lots and lots of giggling (Abby is addicted to the English comedy, My Family – reminds me of when I used to laugh until I wheezed at Laverne and Shirley).
Nevertheless, I shall still dream – just so the quilt knows what to expect.