Autumn - What a Long Strange Trip it's Been

A few years ago I bought a skein of yarn. It was probably at one of those lucky duck sales they have at my favorite yarn shop. You load up your basket and then pick a rubber duck out of the tub to see what discount you’ve won. Never thinking of any particular project at those things, I just pick a little of this and a little of that.

After returning home, the colors in this ball of yarn really started calling to me. It had blue, green, mauve, red, and gray with every shade in between, and got me thinking about little blocks of color marching along together. The ball of yarn was on my mind and whenever I saw a fat quarter that fit, I bought it. I hate to think what I’ve spent on this piece, just $2 at a time.

Eventually I had three times the fabric needed for a small wall hanging, so I cut little squares, laid them out on the dining room table and started stitching. My thought was that I would quilt an interesting abstract design, and then crochet a border from the yarn.

I even made a long chain and felted it in anticipation. Ultimately I decided the colors were too muted to enhance the wall hanging, but I love the nubby texture of this rope and I’m saving it for some yet to be revealed project.

After I assembled all the blocks I toyed with quilt ideas. First I thought I would stitch some space age flowers in silver and red metallic thread. In a word – yuck.

Next I took the piece to my computer sketch pad. How about the sun, the moon and the stars? Definitely not. 

After careful study, I was sure I saw an old gray barn sitting in Red Rock Canyon. I actually picked out all of the metallic flowers and stitched a good bit of this design before it too was abandoned. You can kind of see it though right?

Finally I did the right thing and put it on a shelf. A year passed. One day last fall I pulled it out and knew exactly what this piece wanted to be. It's all about autumn and falling leaves. I quickly sketched the bones of a tree, and cut out the appliqué from bits and pieces of brown fabrics I had sitting around the studio. 

Then I set up my machine to stitch a zillion little leaves. Some still clinging to summer green and more falling in drifts to the ground. Some swirls stand in for puffs of wind blowing the leaves, and there it is. 

For now it’s hanging on the window in my office to keep me company as I write. It’s kind of calling for companions though. I am put in mind of a favorite poem that might need to inspire a quilt...

I meant to do my work today,

But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,

And a butterfly flitted across the field,

And all the leaves were calling me. 

And the wind went sighing over the land,

Tossing the grasses to and fro,

And a rainbow held out its shining hand,

So what could I do but laugh and go?

.... by Richard LeGallienne

Wind That For You?

The other day I was thinking about the simple pleasure of sitting with another person winding a ball of yarn. I had been to Knitch, a great online yarn shop that happens to have their warehouse and shop around the corner from my house.  A favorite Aunt had a birthday coming up and I wanted to buy yarn for a scarf. After picking out a yummy skein of Artyarn’s Silk Rhapsody Glitter, Nell asked if I wanted it wound from a hank into a center pull ball. It’s a service that you only find in good yarn shops, and they have some amazing contraptions to do it quickly. Most folks are delighted I’m sure, but I always say no thanks.

Perhaps it’s just the memory from childhood of those special moments with Mom while I held the yarn stretched out between my two childish hands and she went round and round wrapping it into a ball. Like most of us who learned needlework from our mothers, it was moments like these that kindled the desire to learn. “What are you going to make mommy? Can I do it too?” And so it began.

There was always some little part of the project that needed an extra set of hands. “put you finger right here while I tie this knot.” Or maybe that was just Mom’s way of drawing me in and making me feel a part of the grown up ladies sitting around with their crewel, needlepoint and knitting.

My first lesson was on a French knitting spool I think. From there I graduated to knitting needles, and crochet hooks. At some point in high school I do remember my Mom lamenting that somehow her beautiful old woven embroidery case with wooden hoop, needles and floss had become mine. But that’s what passing on traditions is all about.

So when someone asks if I would like the yarn wound into a neat ball, I always say no. Not unless you are willing to sit across from me and enjoy a half hour of warm and relaxing chatter while I hold the yarn and you make a ball.

Inspiration

A friend and I were chatting about our interest in fabric, and it reminded me that I’ve been meaning to write about the fabric embellished ornaments I gave away at our holiday party this year.

Each year my husband and I host a holiday party for about 40 friends and neighbors. Our dog lady is the official greeter and sends each guest home with a bag of homemade chicken liver biscotti for their pampered pooch. I also send them home with a handmade ornament for their tree. 

One year they were crazy quilted, another tatted snowflakes and wreathes, and yet another wet felted orbs.

For this year’s ornament I was inspired by an article I saw in the August/September 2009 issue of Quilting Arts Magazine. The article by Jill Amanda Kennedy titled Ethically Ethnic Cuffs, was about reusing old bits of trim and fabric scraps along with a cushion cover from the thrift shop to make the extraordinary cuff shown in the cover photo. While I didn’t think the cuff was something I would wear, it started me thinking about what else I could do with the technique.

The process is quite simple and not expensive, if you have scraps of special occasion fabrics (like velvet, satin, organdy, etc.), and odd bits of trim (lace, ribbon, metallic cording) stashed away. It is because of just these sorts of projects that I tend to cut buttons off old blouses before sending them to the rag bin.

This whole project is about layering. Start with a piece of solid fabric that is no more than 18 by 18 inches. Any larger and it’s awkward to twist and turn as you stitch on the machine. I had some dupioni silk in a light green as well as pieces in emerald green and Christmas red that I bought on sale. To the back of this you will fuse a piece of heavyweight interfacing.

Begin cutting out little bits and pieces of fabric, and scatter them across the right side of your fabric. If you like you can use a bit of spray adhesive to hold them in place. When you are satisfied with the color balance, stitch them in place with a straight or zig zag stitch. I used metallic threads in different colors since this just added another element and a bit of sparkle to the overall piece.

The next step is to layer a piece of something transparent over the top. I found some sparkly white organdy with silver sequins, and a pretty gold organdy. Stitch this around the outer edges of the piece just to hold it in place. Now add another layer of fabric pieces and some wide ribbon or trim, and stitch these down. Since I was making Christmas ornaments, I dug through the wrapping box to find some of those great wide wired holiday ribbons that I bought at Costco for next to nothing. Finally take narrow trim and ribbon and add this in curves and loops all over the top. You will end up with something that looks like this. 

Yours may be more or less complex. As long as it appeals to you, that’s all that matters.

But I bet you are wondering how this pretty placemat piece of embellished fabric becomes an ornament. Basically, now that you have the big piece assembled, you are going to cut it all up. The first thing you need is a template. I made two (a diamond shape and a mandorla or almond shape) and cut them out of heavy duty construction paper. Any firm paper or card stock will work.

Using the templates and a fine point marker, layout as many of the shapes as you can make fit on your embellished fabric, drawing the outlines for your cutting lines. Now do the same thing on a similarly sized piece of backing fabric. I used cotton velvets because it is quite stiff and easy to draw on and cut to shape. Once you have your templates all traced. Cut out the shapes.

Note that, following Jill Kennedy’s technique, I cut the backing pieces larger than the embellished shapes, stitched around the edges, trimmed the pieces and then finished the edges. However, I later realized this was not necessary and in subsequent batches cut both fronts and back to the same size, thereby eliminating a step.For every ornament you make, you will also need a piece of ribbon or trim for the hanger. I cut these about eight inches long to make a nice roomy hanger to fit over a tree branch. The final step is to lay a backing piece right side down, and a embellished piece right side up with the ribbon doubled over and inserted between the two at one point or corner. Using your machine's zig zag stitch, satin stitch around all the outer edges of the ornament to hold all of it together. That’s it. 

The finished product will look a bit like this. Something to hang on a tree or decorate a special package, and that will always remind the recipient of you. Or better yet, a bit of inspiration to send you off on the design of your own project.  

A Happy Handmade Christmas to All

Memories of Gramps

I’ve been thinking about Christmas’ past and memories from my childhood lately. It’s funny how an object can become such a token of a time and place. My Dad grew up in a wonderful rambling federal style house on a hill in the Sauquoit Valley of New York State. The place was called Wyndmoor Farm, which always sounded somehow romantic to me – like Wuthering Heights could have been written about a place with that name.

Those two ground floor windows on the left in the picture where in my Gramps’ study. It had a wonderful old cobblestone fireplace in one corner, and a huge oak roll top desk by the window. Because it was also the only room in the house with a TV, we kids spent a lot of time in there when we visited. On the chair at Gramps’ desk was a chair pad made my by Gramma Stephenson. I never gave much thought to it as a child. It was just colorful and soft and always there.

After my Grandfather died (at the ripe age of 97), my Dad and his last surviving brother took a few special mementos to keep, and I was surprised to see that he saved that chair pad. He took it home and put it on the chair in his office/den – the place he paid the bills and watched sports on TV.

In 2006, I lost both my Mom and Dad, and as we were packing things up to sell the house, I found myself drawn to that chair pad. I took a close look and realized that – ever thrifty – my grandmother had knitted that chair pad from little bits of leftover wool, and stuffed the rows with old nylons. What a great way to use up those little bits of yarn at aren’t enough to make anything; how bright and cheerful the clash of colors.

I had recently finished a Christmas ornament project – making a zillion little wet felted ornaments – and had plenty of yarn left over. I decided it would be fun to replicate the chair pad with my own leftovers. Of course, first I had to teach myself how to knit in the round. I tried circular needles, but I couldn’t get the tube small enough for my purpose. I tried the knitting spool from my childhood, and the tube was too small. Finally I bit the bullet and bought a set of five double point needles. I started. It was hard. I set it down. I picked it up. I decided I didn’t like it and ripped it out. I set it down again for a long time. Then one day this year I picked it up again because I needed a some hand work I could do while sitting in meetings, watching TV, etc. Low and behold, it was easy. In short order I had a tube that was over 200 inches long, and after some hemming and hawing about how to assemble the whole thing into a chair pad, here it is.

When I look at the original and mine side by side, I have to concede that I like Gramma’s better. Her yarn was all worsted weight and mine is fingering, so the texture is not so obvious. And, in retrospect, I don’t think she knit a tube after all. I think she used plain old knit stich turning her work at the end of each row, then seamed it when she was done. When you knit in the round, your work is never turned, so the texture is different. 

Live, love and learn. Even though Gramma has been gone since I was six years old, she still was able to teach me something about the crafts that I love. And now I have something special on my desk chair that reminds me of Gramp, Gramma and my Dad.