About the yellow

There was no doubt that the applique needed some yellow. It was always just a matter of how the yellow would get there. Originally I had intended to embroider simple flowers, just lazy daisies, in several shades of yellow pearl cotton. I even stitched a few in place. But it just didn't work for me.

I decided to just stumble ahead and hope that an idea would present itself, and it finally did. I've been trying to be less literal in my applique design. I think my science background just hungers for accuracy. But my flower garden isn't a faithful rendition of any real flowers. I could call them zinnias, or cottage roses and you'd probably go along. And all those circles I like to toss in, what are those supposed to be in real life?

It occurred to me that if random circles are okay, perhaps commas could work. It's a shape that I like a lot. It's the shape of a single feather in traditional quilting. It's a paisley, or a petal. They have a bit of motion, with that little curve by the point.

So, out came a scrap of Wash Away Sheets.

I used a pencil to sketch out the shapes, using the original placement lines for the embroidery flowers to suggest the size. (I've traced over them with sharpie here so they are easier to see.)










Working with the same fabrics from the yellow pieced block, I made up a few, just to test out the idea, and I liked it!

Since I figured I'd roughly need about six thousand templates (slight exaggeration, it's actually closer to a hundred), I recreated the shapes using my Silhouette and let the machine do the cutting.

Yeah, that's a little bit of yellow there. I didn't plan, just made an assortment using three different yellow fabrics and three different sizes of commas.

So, I'm busy stitching down commas. My literal brain really wants to add a couple of green lazy daisies to the base of each comma, just to give them a place to grow from, you know? But I'm resisting. At this point it's hard to tell if what I'm adding is improving the design or just a ploy to prevent me from finishing.

Thanks so much for all your kind comments and concern. I'm feeling terrific. I've worked through the shock of having a heart attack, which is something that happens to other people, and celebrating the extra time I have been given.

Happy to still be here

There is no other way to say it than to just say it. In the early hours of March 7, 2016 I had a heart attack. I'm fine. Honestly. Because I knew the early warning signs, which are very different in women, I got to the hospital in plenty of time to avoid permanent damage to my heart.

I won't go into all the gory details, just suffice it to say that the monstrous heart burn and jaw pain were enough early warning to have me concerned. The nausea and lightheadedness that followed sealed the deal.

The five minute drive to the hospital gave me just enough time to consider my mortality and be grateful for matching (and clean) underwear (not that anyone besides me noticed). Just mention chest pain and you won't be wearing much very quickly.

The first blood test was inconclusive, the second blood test changed all that, and the third blood test had me bundled off to the cath lab for some quality time with a balloon and a stent to repair a completely blocked right artery.

Within 36 hours my blood enzyme levels had returned to normal levels and I was sent home to start my new life as a heart attack survivor. Because we got there so early in the attack I have nearly no damage to my heart. It's funny, on one hand I don't feel any different at all. I'm still me, and yet everything has changed. I'm shopping for stylish medical alert bracelets and nitro pill holders.

The hardest part was telling my family. To be honest, I felt pretty ashamed, certain that I had brought this on myself. The marvelous cardiac care nurses assured me that being embarrassed was a waste of good energy. I don't have any underlying conditions, despite being overweight, my blood pressure and cholesterol are just fine. Let's face it: my sole purpose in life is to serve as a warning to others. If just one woman's heart is also spared because of what happened to me then I've done my job.

I made sure to call my sons myself. I didn't want them to have even a moment's panic while Kent got from "Mom had a heart attack" to "but she's okay". I figured if they heard my voice they would already be reassured. My youngest son assured me that I couldn't die, I didn't have the most fabric yet. (Yeah, he's a keeper.)

I'll be on special meds for at least a year while my body gets comfortable with the stent. It will take a little while to get all of my energy back and to get past that feeling of fragility that comes when a crucial body part misbehaves.

It seems that having such a great outcome means there must be something left for me to do in this world, hopefully still a long way off. What ever it might be, I'm already back to putting the finishing touches on A Fine Romance. I think I can be forgiven for missing the Tuesday deadline for basting the thing. I was in the hospital with a heart attack after all. (I plan to claim "heart attack" now anytime I feel the need to princess out, I'm going to milk it for all its worth.)

If you're a woman, or love a woman, please make sure you understand what a heart attack looks like so you can have the same great outcome as I have. Just google it and read several articles. It might just save your life too.

Making Progress

I hoped that laying out the finished parts of A Fine Romance would light a fire under me, and it has, sort of. You can see that all that remains to be appliqued is half of one border, and some parts in the corners where the seams come together. Nothing much, really, compared to the work done so far.

It hasn't taken much to stall the project and I'm trying to figure out why. I've always thought that projects become UFOs for good reason. Often it's because we are unsure of the next step, or we lose faith in the outcome. I realized that I was going to be short of leaves and the burden of making more leaves was almost crushing. Honestly. I didn't count when I started making the leaves. We were holed up in the extended stay hotel when I was working on them and we were so stressed that even counting leaves was iffy. Turns out I only needed leaves that tip to the left, I still have a big old pile of leaves that tip to the right.

Being a few leaves short of a border (a teacup short of a place setting, a sandwich short of a picnic) I figured this would be a great time to put that Silhouette back to work.  After just a little experimentation the trusty machine was spitting out lovely, perfect templates for the needed leaves. In the end it took less than two hours to make 25 more leaves. (It would have been less time but I was binging on old Downton Abbey episodes and one must look up to ogle the dresses.)

So, the last half of the border is now pinned in place and I'm stitching away. Quilt guild meeting is next Tuesday and I have a half-hearted goal of having the top together so I can use the church tables to baste the quilt. There, I've said it, it's out in the universe, perhaps that will shame me into getting it done.

On the personal front, we have finally accepted an offer on the Saginaw house. Yay! We have every digit crossed that all the dotting of the Is and crossing of the Ts will go smoothly. That wonderful old house needs to be loved and it sounds like the buyers are just the right folks to do it.

Because I am a clutz

I really should know better than to leave a cup of coffee near anything I value. This time it was just a few splatters on the unsewn end of one of the applique borders. It would have been luckier if it had been on the border that isn't sewn yet, but I don't know anyone who plans on being a dork.

Most of the coffee washed out, what remains will just add to the subtle variations already in the fabric. Despite my best efforts, washing out the coffee also meant getting part of the applique wet. This half of the center rose was left unstitched, waiting for the remaining applique shapes to be pinned in place.

After washing I tossed the border into the dryer. I certainly didn't want to leave it sitting wet, a sure invitation to any colors that might feel like a jog into the background fabric. I had to leave the house, and I didn't want to leave the border all jumbled up in the dryer, especially if it didn't get entirely dry. So I spread the border out on the cutting table and slipped a ruler under the applique to protect the background from the slightly damp fabric.

The piece got wet enough to release some of the glue basted edges. Some of the Wash Away Applique Sheet templates also started to disintegrate, but a little quality time with a glue stick will fix this right up. Disaster averted this time, but somehow I doubt that I've actually learned my lesson.

Back to work

I love everything about winter except for the short days. Well, I love everything about winter that can be enjoyed from the inside looking out. Since my inner child has been playing with matches for years, the colder weather suits me just fine. But the short, dark days take their toll and by Christmas I'm ready to hibernate. While it feels like I can sense every minute of daylight added to the days in January, it takes until the middle of February for me to be convinced that spring truly will come again. And then I begin to come back to life.

Stitching the long borders on A Fine Romance can be tricky. With dozens and dozens of pins holding the applique shapes in place it can be downright painful to do all the twisting and turning needed to stitch down the curvy shapes.

After cursing (and bleeding) my way through the side borders I decided to pin just half of the longer top and bottom border shapes in place. The empty end of the border can be folded up and pinned together to help reduce the bulk. The pinned end (you can see it behind the sewing machine) is rolled up too. It does make it easier to turn the border fabric, but it also stands some of the pins straight up. Ouch. A good book on my iPod helps to pass the time.

The diagram for the top and bottom borders seems to trail half way across the studio floor, the remaining motifs are spread out on the shorter table. I suspect that I will run out of leaves, I lost count somewhere along the way, and I may need to make a little more bias strips to finish up the vines. But I've pinned one end of the two remaining borders, and one of those has been stitched down. I've been listening to Alex Berenson's John Wells spy series. I have three more books in the series to go. I wonder if that will be enough to finish the borders.

Startitis and Finishitupism

They say the first step in recovery is admitting the problem. Fine. My name is Beth and I have startitis. I was blissfully in denial about this until my local guild started a UFO challenge. The winner from last year finished off TWENTY projects from her UFO collection. Ever so smug I though, who has so many unfinished projects? How does that happen?

Then it dawned on me that I have so many unfinished projects that I have CATEGORIES! Sure, it's just a sock (or three, the lower left is a mystery sock waiting for the final clue) in progress here, a knit-a-long cowl there (which I can't finish because the final steps haven't been released),

a sweater from yarn that I spun myself (never mind that I really don't like the yellow in the yarn, or that it's entirely likely that the sweater will be a.) too small and b.) I will likely run out of yarn before I finish the last sleeve.

And then there is the lace cardigan I started, also with yarn that I spun:

You can see how most of these projects fall into separate categories and therefore don't count against starting something new before something else is finished. Truly!

But then there is the quilty projects.

A Fine Romance is just two borders short of having the entire top done, but I can't decide if I want to do more embroidery embellishment, and then I can't decide if I want to do hand or machine embroidery. And this is a "work" project, not so now it is in a subcategory. The hard deadline was met, of having completed each step before publication, so in one sense, this project could be considered "done". (Feel free to co-opt any of these explanations if they help with your denial.)

And there is Christmas Yet to Come that needs to be quilted. It's at that awful, awkward stage where I am convinced that the very next thing I'm going to do will ruin it completely. Truthfully, I do need to take this slow because free motion quilting is hard on my neck and hands. (I am so lustful after BERNINA's new long arm machine that I often wonder what the going rate for kidneys is.)

If you've followed the blog for any length of time you might remember this project, from a class with Elly Sienkiewicz in Houston, um, a, four years ago? I love what I've done so far, but, well, just but. That's why it's not done yet. Plus it falls into the quilting category of "not work", so it can safely be ignored when ever deadlines loom.

And then there's this little wool applique project that I put together almost a year ago. See, then I was living in a hotel room, during the transition from Saginaw to Green Bay. I had no stash with me, and I panicked! I bought all the stuff for this sweet little table topper and then felt guilty/relieved to have a UFO in the room. (Yeah, I'm crazy, but you know exactly how I feel, so don't go getting smug on me!)



I had this great plan to finish these projects. A Fine Romance and Christmas Yet to Come will get my mornings, alternating depending on certainty of the next step. AFR is really in sort of a brainless sewing state, stitching down the applique, so I can put off that decision for a while, and the quilting on CYtC in small spurts will save my body. These are "work" projects, so I can consider myself at work while I work on them. The other quilty project will be my "away" projects. I've joined a guild and a bee, so I need project that are small enough to travel, right?

This all made perfect sense and gave me a wonderful sense of control and calm, until last week when I took a workshop with the guild on painting on silk.

Oh, yes please! I loved it, it was so much fun it just about took my breath away. My brains fell out of my ears and I ordered almost two hundred dollars worth of silk painting supplies. They arrive on Wednesday. And I haven't even mentioned the tapestry weaving I want to get back to.

I've decided that finishitupism (I've just noticed that a swear word suddenly appears in the middle of that word, one that seems perfectly appropriate) is just a symptom of January and will pass shortly. If I just hold on for a couple of weeks I can forget all about UFOs, the virtue of finishing and go blissfully back into denial. Wanna come with me?

Secret Agent Spy Stuff

It's been deliciously quiet here, so I have been quiet on the blog. The days have been filled with the satisfyingly mundane chores of everyday life. Nothing to see here. Little things give me ridiculous pleasure, like having a clothes chute from the master bedroom to the basement laundry, but are hardly worth a blog post. (Well, except for this one, I guess.) My days are a lovely mix of quilting, knitting, spinning and cooking. I have finally embraced this gift of unregimented time, this sabbatical from the frantic pace of teaching/travel/publishing of the past decade or so.

The weather has been unseasonably warm, autumn has lingered well into winter. They are predicting some measurable snow for over the weekend, so I'll be hustling to get the last of the tulip and daffodil bulbs into the ground later today. I'm down to the last forty or so, which shouldn't take long. I've already planted nearly a hundred bulbs. This spring there will be color!

A Fine Romance did get put aside for a while. There are other things that I'd like to get cracking on, and there were a couple of deadlines to be met, for projects I can't show you. I've sent off a block to Quiltmaker for their 100 Blocks publication. I really like it and think it needs to be quilt, so I will be fussing around with layouts until I find one I must make.

I've also been messing about with some new machine quilting techniques. I can't show you that either just yet. I can tell you it's been the most fun I've had with my clothes on. After years of swearing that I'd never wear gloves for quilting (when will I learn that "never" usually means "next week"), I've discovered that gloves are just the thing for this new process.

I still hate having to take the gloves off to thread the needles or even work the touch screen on the sewing machine. Until someone makes quilting gloves with the special conducting fibers in the fingertips, I've solved the problem by cutting the tips from the thumb and index fingers on my right hand glove. It also serves up a bit of cooling. Since my inner child is playing with matches again, any cooling I can get is a good thing.

Danger Zone

 This project is in real trouble. After months and months of work, this quilt is on the verge of becoming a WIP (a Work In Progress, otherwise known as a project laying about that isn't actually being worked on) or, more ominously, a UFO (UnFinished Project).

Half of the center applique is done. The rest is mostly pinned on and will be stitched in place today. All of the parts are sorted and just waiting for their curtain call. But I'm losing steam. I'm losing interest in finishing.

It might be the distractions. I have several projects waiting in the wings, projects that I am itching to get to. The beguiling thing is that the projects are sneaking into brand new processes and I am always enticed by the opportunity to learn something new.

I have this stack of software waiting to be loaded onto my computer. It's embroidery software for my Bernina 880, including the cut work tools. The 880 has a stitch designer function, allowing me to create my own decorative stitches. I want to design new applique edge stitches, I can already see them in my head. I'm anxious to get started, but I have this big project I need to finish first.

And then there's this pile of stuff. Have you seen the quilting they're doing with rulers and domestic sewing machines? Check this out. How did I not know about this? Of course I had to run out and get a sampling of tools and equipment. There just might be an easier way to finish quilting Christmas Yet to Come! Of course I'll need to practice, and for that I'll need practice projects. Oh, but I have this big project I need to finish first.

Of course, none of that even takes into account of all of the other distractions around here. I have this terrific new electric spinning wheel to master. And while it is the coolest thing since forever, I still love spinning on the traditional wheel, so it needs some loving attention.

As for the loom, well, I'm just not sure about that. If it's going to take up prime real estate in the living room it certainly needs to be warped and worked on. It may be looking for a new home shortly. Not sure that the weaving bug has really stuck with me. But for now, I really have to concentrate on this big project.

I worry that if I put A Fine Romance aside it will never be finished, look what's become of Christmas Yet to Come. It is still waiting to be quilted. Or worse, it will lurk in the background, making me feel guilty for not wanting it any more. Oh, wait, it's currently staring me in the face and making me feel guilty for not wanting it any more.

I'm not sure when I gave up multi-tasking projects to become a serial processor. Well, that's not completely true. I think of myself as monogamous within crafts, it's okay to work on more than one project as long as I'm cheating on quilting with knitting, or spinning or weaving. (Lucky for me that gardening, baking, and decorating are chores, not hobbies or I'd really be toast.)

Indecision might turn out to be my best friend. I am making good progress even while I think about setting it aside. What do you do? How do you stay faithful to large projects, or is that just silly? Am I the only quilter in the universe who works on one quilt at a time?

Just a couple of knots

So much has happened since I started this project that I couldn't remember if I had a plan for the center of the flowers. Well, that's not true. I know I had a plan. I always have a plan. Not remembering the plan meant that I needed to come up with one pretty quick.

I was fairly certain that wool was involved, so I started by cutting circles out of different colors of wool. I had to remind myself that testing isn't wasting, that it would be so much better to toss a couple of circles of fabric than regret dozens and hours of work too.

In the end I settled on yellow. I haven't used much yellow in the quilt so far, and it adds a nice sparkle. I tried different sizes, considered cutting star shapes instead of circles. But, in the end, the yellow circle ruled the day.

(I can't believe how much the glue shows in these pictures. I sure was sloppy with it. No worries, though, it will all be gone in the first wash.)

In the end it was really all about the french knots. They make me ridiculously happy. Using #5 perle cotton makes them look like fat and happy seed beads. Some how the plan (see, I did have a plan) changed from a simple circle of knots to a center full of knots.

All that is left for me to do is to make the bias strips and get to stitching all the parts and pieces to the backgrounds. Doesn't seem like much, does it, after coming so far?

Small victories

It was truly of moment of truth when the sashing strips were sewn together for the quilt borders. These strips were challenging little buggers, with all the angles and matching points. It didn't help things at all that they were constructed in the hotel room, with a jerry-rigged cutting table, mini ironing board and dodgy hotel iron.

There certainly is a lot of "character" in the edges, that's for sure. Truthfully, I spent more time dreading the easing it was sure to require than it actually took to sew everything in place.

Look at it! They match up to the border perfectly. Perfectly. Not a bit of stretch needed! You know this doesn't happen often, so when it does, you'll have to forgive me my little bit of crowing, please.

I'm proud of the quilts I make, but they are far from perfect. There are a lot of secrets tucked between the quilt top and the batting.

But then we're like that too, aren't we. We like to present our best face and keep our failures tucked away. I think we're the most interesting when the facade falls away and we're our truest selves. Feel free to look for the flaws. I think they are the best feature. But, for once, for this part of the quilt, no easing required!

And then there were eight

Step Eight is up. That's it. That's all, she wrote. Ta-da! All of the steps for A Fine Romance have been posted. Actually sewn? Well, that's a bit of a different story, now isn't it?

Considering all that's happened in the last eight or so months, I'm actually pretty pleased with how much I've accomplished. All of the blocks are pieced, just waiting to be joined together with the last of the sashing strips, and that won't take long. The borders are pieced too.

I'm glad that I saved some of the simpler blocks for the end of the project. Usually I like to advance the skills required as the project continues, it's the teacher in me.

This time around I decided that this quilt would really be all about the applique, any teaching moments would be a lucky bonus. This month's step includes the math to make any size square-in-a-square block, so I did manage to squeeze a little extra information in there.

While it feels like the quilt is nearly done, I still have a bit of work ahead of me on the applique. All of the bits are glue basted, just waiting to be stitched together. I feel some embellishing coming on, but I just haven't decided how involved I want it to be. French knots are on the list for sure, beading remains to be seen. For some reason I think I might want to add a bit of black to the center of the open faced flowers. Talk me out of it?

I've got my nest set up. The machine cabinet is finally repaired (it was broken in the move) so I can comfortably sew. A brand new "In Death" from J.D. Robb just came out. I wonder what I'll finish first, the audio book, or the stitching on the applique? Oh, well, I always have Craftsy on the computer to help pass the time.

Cutting Big

Here is my layout for cutting the strips for the border background for A Fine Romance. The bulk of the fabric is supported by the chair. (What can I say, I liked it so much I bought the entire bolt.) Years ago I invested in a couple of extra large rulers, 16 1/2" and 20 1/2" squares. I don't use these very often, but they make quick work of the job when I do. Using them meant I could cut up the needed pieces for the border easily.

I know lots of quilters are limited in space and budget. I started out as one, I've been building my toolbox for more than thirty years. But I feel compelled to, once again, caution against using the markings on the cutting mat for measuring.

This is a brand new mat. I put my ruler down on the mat with the measurement lines aligned.

This is what I see at the other end of the ruler. In the space of just eighteen inches, the lines are clearly off. But here's the thing. We are cutting huge hunks of fabric for the borders for A Fine Romance. And while these lines are off, in the whole grand scheme of things, this smidgen is not going to amount to a hill of beans. Just be wary of using the mat for anything that might need to be precise.


I don't know why this picture rotated, but here it is. To get my 13 1/2" x 40 1/2" rectangles, I refolded each strip so that I could cut with the least amount of waste at one end. Doing this has the added benefit of placing the fold off center of the piece. Sometimes those folds are hard to remove, so moving them off the center focal point can help to disguise them.


To measure using the mat, instead of trying to align the ruler at the 20 1/4" mark (which will give us a 40 1/2" rectangle), I like to use the ruler to add the 1/4 inch. The one inch marking lines on the mat are easier to see than those little intermediate hash marks.



Now that autumn has arrived I'll be spending less time and energy getting our new gardens up to speed, and more time in the studio. I have just a few circles left to glue baste and I'll be moving on to stitching the flowers together. We are only a few days away from the last step of this block of the month project. How is yours coming along?

Step Seven, with a side of emo

For the more tenacious folks following this block of the month, you've already discovered that Step Seven has been posted for a couple of weeks. For those of you waiting to hear from me, here you go. (And so sorry once again, for the delay in the notice.)

Now for the side of emo. The stress and worries of the job change and big move have caught up with us at last. We've been under the gun, unsure of our fates since the beginning of January. I think that now that we're feeling more settled into our Green Bay life we've relaxed enough to feel all of the pressures of this huge change in our lives. Let's just say that the word "snippy" has been forthwith banned from all use in the household.

The Saginaw house is still for sale. We've finally dropped the price to what I thought we should have started with the first place. And we buried a St. Joseph, which felt a little sacrilegious to me. Once I saw the little statue all boxed up in a special "this is the guy to bury" package I felt a little less squeamish. He's been in the ground all summer. So much for the quick results. On the other hand, while working in the front garden here we found the St. Joe that the former owners of this house buried. He's now on the kitchen windowsill where I can remind him on a daily basis that he's got a job to do.

The wonderful old Saginaw house truly was the house of my dreams. It was a landmark, it had a life of its own which it graciously shared with us for twenty years. I loved saying, "I live in a house built in 1860." Or, "We live in that old farmhouse next to the park", and have everyone know exactly which house that was. (I think half the county walked through it during the estate sale two weeks before we bought it.)

In moving here we were no longer interested in "the house of our dreams". We had that. We have just want we wanted, enough space for our toys, enough dirt to garden, all on a quiet street. It didn't start out as something special, but, as Kent reminds me, it will be by the time we're done with it.

Same but not same, the leaves part two

When I first learned to applique, more than twenty years ago, uniformity and perfection were the hallmarks of excellence. In many applique circles, especially those grounded in the traditional style, these values continue today. Even as I was developing my own applique technique, my initial goal was to create a process that would allow me to quickly and efficiently make precise and uniform templates for my applique motifs. Stapling and cutting multiple layers of template material gave me that outcome, and I appliqued on happily for many years.

But lately, I find my desires are changing. Leaves are never uniform in nature. They twist, they change colors as they mature and they're all different sizes.

One of the nicest things about my applique technique is that I can make changes on the fly. Early on I decided that I'd cut out each leaf individually, all eleventy-million of them, a far cry from the quick and efficient method I worked so hard to perfect.

One of the most frequently asked questions in my classes is where to cut: inside the line, out side the line or exactly on the line. I always reply with "somewhere near the line". Since I cut each element from a complete motif (as opposed to exploding the design and cutting each element individually) it doesn't really matter how the cut is made. The shapes will fit together again, guaranteed!



For example, here's a basic leaf template. It looks like I more or less followed the line for the outer edge. Also notice that each half of the leaf has a letter name and a penciled in number. I call these notations the "address", so I'll always know which halves belong together.


When it came time to cut the halves apart I totally ignored the line. My only concern at this point is that the two halves end up on a different fabric.

After all of the leaf parts are trimmed for the seam allowance, they are sorted by letter and shape. You can see that I missed the line on quite a few of the leaves. From here, the pairs are matched up and it's time to start glue basting.

This is my lap sized light pad (about 11" x 14"). I've covered it with a bit of template plastic so I'm not getting glue directly on the surface of the pad. I need my scissors to clip a few concave seam allowances. You can see on the leaf about to be basted that the cut was so wild that I had to transfer the address to the skinny half, no biggie. The cuticle stick is what I use to control and adjust the seam allowances until they are smooth and perfect. No fancy, expensive tools needed here. I use a simple white glue stick, which is on the table next to my beverage of choice. I have my feet up on the foot stool, I'm onto season three of Foyle's War on Netflix now, and I still have about a third of the leaves to go.