In recent weeks I have been thinking of an old poem by William Davies. I think of it now because my life recently has been the opposite of the advice Mr. Davies urges upon me:

Leisure

What is this life if, full of care
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass,
No time to see, in broad day light,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at beauty’s glance
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

In an effort to remedy my over busy life I stopped today for a time to enjoy the birth of a new season. Here is what I observe:

The ground has a new cast of green as tender shoots of spring grass push through the cold brown soil. This past week it has snowed nearly every day, yet as the warming days melt the snow away the optimistic grass still shows green.

From the tops of tall old trees in town the red-wing blackbirds are voicing their optimism about the future and busy robins hustle about looking for the best nesting materials. Our cats spend hours each day practically glued to the windows with their teeth chattering at the temptation caused by robins hopping past.

You can see I have been thinking of the red-wings from the block I stitched this week. This bird is stitched from all 1930s fabrics and realistically it should be all black, except for the red wing tips, of course. I colored it lighter in view of the colors used in the rest of the quilt. Sadly, it is still wa-a-ay too dark to fit into my traditional 1930s colored quilt. It is back to the drawing board for me…. (The quilt is newly designed for my year-long classes that I teach in the City.)

Here in the country the changing of seasons is marked by many events that ignore how warm or cold the temperature may be. A new generation of babies, sheep, calves and colts is on their way and it will not be long before I spot new babies wobbling alongside their mothers. I always shudder and wish I could bring them indoors and away from the cold nights.

This year I am planning a herb garden and plans of what I will plant and how it will all fit together fit lull me to sleep at nights…..

Last fall, while teaching at the AQS show in Iowa I bought an amazing quilt. I believe it was made in the early twentieth century. Usually I admire old quilts and look for ideas to use in my own work in them, but I don’t buy. However, once in a while, when the price is right, I am captured by the work of an earlier quiltmaker and I am compelled to bring her quilt home with me. This Pickle Dish quilt is one of those quilts.

I feel that when you take the time to examine a quilt and look closely enough you will find aspects of a quiltmaker’s personality in her work. To me, this particular quilt is bursting with the personality of its maker. On close inspection of this quilt, this is what I believe about this quiltmaker.

I believe that the woman who made this quilt was probably elderly, but very confident in her competence as a quiltmaker. She liked detail, the more the better. She was frugal, had limited resources, and she had a no-nonsense approach to quiltmaking, i.e., the only reason to make a quilt was for its usefulness. She did not take herself too seriously: she was not making a masterpiece, she was simply having fun and making something useful. Most of all, however, she loved making quilts and that is why I brought a piece of her home with me.

Here are some closer looks to show you what I mean. By the way, if you measure from tip end to tip end of the “pieced melon slice” the size of her quilt block is just over SIX INCHES long. These pieces are tiny!

First of all, her workmanship is loose, her stitches large and a bit haphazard caused in part by the bulk of the many layers. When she is able to make a straight run of hand quilting stitches in a plain area her stitches are even and regular showing an expert hand. I think she was elderly because the stitches are large, yet formed with confidence. Also, who else would have the time, the depth of years shown in her scrap collection, and attempt such an intricate, small pattern if she did not have the confidence of years of experience behind her.

This is truly a scrap quilt. Fabrics are randomly chosen and placed in what appears to be a haphazard way. Yet there is charm in the combinations that I would guess came straight from her scrap basket.

She was using up fabric in a most efficient manner, the large plain pieces between the lines of patchwork were probably cut from flour or sugar sacks (one of my students suggested diaper flannel).

Large calico pieces went into the plain space between the curved pieced units. Pieces that were a little smaller went into the corner squares, and all the remaining bits went into the intricate “pickle” patchwork.

Her approach was efficient and I would imagine it was visually stimulating to see how the different combinations looked with each other.

I never tire of examining this quilt and I am still pleased that I get to live with this quilt and its maker every day.

At Christmastime I scheduled time with my daughter-in-law’s mother to spend a couple of days at her house trading knowledge. I was going there to learn to make homemade turtles. (The best turtles I have ever tasted I might add.) In turn, I would teach her to appliqué and get her started on a quilt for her bed.

This event was to take place over two days in order to cover all of the teaching/learning that was to be shared.

On the day appointed in December, I came down with a terrible flu bug and was very sick for several days. So we rescheduled for the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day.

On our next appointed day, during the night before I was to travel the 150 miles to her house, we had our biggest snow storm of the year (20-24” of snow in about 12 hours). Again, plans were cancelled and we rescheduled.

Finally! This past week we were able to overcome busy schedules, sickness, and the weather to get on with our plans.

What a great learning experience it was for me! Occasionally, I have made candy before but it has always been easy recipes that don’t need precise techniques for a successful outcome.

Mrs. B. is a true master of her craft. When we boiled the syrupy liquid that became caramel, we checked the progress of our candy often. It was not with a scientific candy thermometer though, it was the teacup, cold water, and a spoonful-of-candy-dropped-into-the-cold-water technique to find the perfect stage between soft and hard ball stage. It was very precise with a perfect outcome based on the skill of the candymaker.

Once the caramel was successfully complete and added to the pecans, we started melting the milk chocolate for dipping.

First we had to break up a 10 pound slab (did you get that, 10 pounds !) of dipping chocolate. (Dropping from a standing position onto a concrete step did the trick. By the way, it was still packaged in heavy-weight plastic during this step.)

Once it was broken into smaller pieces it had to be shredded into shaving-sized bits with big sharp knives. This process took two of us (Mr. B. and me) about an hour.

Then the chocolate went into a perfect crock pot and there was a very long wait for the chocolate to get hot enough to activate the cocoa butter and then we waited again for the chocolate to cool down enough for dipping.

Chocolate cannot be rushed. It turns out that chocolates that are dipped at too high a temperature will turn a dusty brown color instead of remaining a glossy brown. If the dipping chocolate cools too much while dipping, the chocolate has to be reheated and cooled…it is very tricky and a candymaker has to work fast.

We had perfect results!

I received a great education in chocolate-making (the old fashioned way), and I can hardly wait to try it again on my own…. before I forget what I learned.

There are so many wonderful traditions that are best learned from those experienced in her/his craft. Yes, books and carefully written instructions can teach us, but there is something uniquely rich in learning from one who has the touch, who knows what works and what does not work, and why, and from one who has failed and succeeded to gain the knowledge that they carry.

Part of the joy in learning this way is to view a person you already know in a new light and to enrich both of your lives with newly shared knowledge.

P.S.  I’ve just posted to my Sewing Room. It is about when to attach applique borders.

A few days ago I was quietly working in my sewing room when I heard one of the cats jumping at one of the windows in the next room. I went to investigate and saw nothing.

Meanwhile another cat began jumping at a window in the room I had just left. Returning to the sewing room I saw an unusual sight.

A large bird, with a long beak, was investigating all of the mortar indentations between the bricks around the one of the windows. The large bird deftly climbed the bricks from the bottom to the top of each window, checking the mortar between each and every brick. Sometimes this bird was lucky and found a morsel of food (probably a spider) in the cracks.

The bird, intent on its task, was undaunted by the cats or me, with my camera, on the other side of the window.

Since I was able to photograph this surprise visitor, we were able to identify this bird as a Northern Flicker.

In the depths of a very cold winter my visiting flicker was a surprise reminder of how fortunate and comfortable I am inside my cozy, warm house with plenty of good food to eat.

Today the sun is shining, reflecting millions of sparkling diamonds off the untouched snow that covers the land all around our house. The skies are clear and the air clean, fresh and very cold.

In its still and spotless state, nature itself seems to be speaking of a new, fresh slate for a brand new year.

At dinner last night we discussed the New Year and the Resolutions that naturally follow new beginnings. Resolutions for change are difficult because, be it good or bad, we have spent many years, in both big and small ways, becoming who we are and how we react to things.

However, the beauty in a New Year is that it gives us a mental and physical place to stop, reflect, and plan for the future.

In this beautiful new day, in a fresh new year, I plan to spend my time putting away last year, planning for a better me in the future, and savoring the time I have to spend in it.

More than half a year has passed without a post to my journal. In summary, I’ve been busy (haven’t we all) and remiss in thinking about what may interest you my online quilting friends.

There is a group of 50 plus quiltmakers who have become the focus of my creative energies of late. A quilt shop in the Salt Lake metropolitan area is the venue where we meet.

The pictures in this post are of some of them when we held class at my house last summer.

Once each month I drive two hours to the City and spend three days teaching classes. I like to keep my classes small. So in three day’s time I teach six classes and we have time to both learn and enjoy the company.

Well over twenty years ago I tried teaching a year-long class at a local quilt shop. It was a great experience and I found that situation is the one that suits me best as a teacher.

In a year’s time not only are stitching techniques refined, the why’s and how’s of design can be taught, and there is time for in depth learning about the history of quiltmaking. A one day class simply cannot provide the environment that allows for the sharing and learning that can take place over time.  

However, the best part of such long classes is the close friendships that form. This past summer there was a wedding between two young people that was a direct result of two mothers who became friends in one of my classes.

I have found many long-time and dear friends through these classes. I wish there were a way to bring all of you into our classes and perhaps one day I will figure out a way to share more widely.

But for now I will try to be more diligent in posting to my journal.

My Old Fashioned Christmas quilt is finished and it will hang in my house this Christmas season. I will be selling the pattern soon.

Spring Quilt Market is being held in Salt Lake City in 2011 and I plan to have a booth there. I will introduce it there and the pattern will finally be available.

 

In the past I have thought of winter as a colorless season—with everything dormant, sleeping, cold, harsh and drab. This year I have seen winter with new eyes. 

The first I noticed was the view outside my kitchen window. The snow is deep here and it has covered the brown earth for well over two months now. Just before sunset, when the sun is low in the southwest, the landscape outside my window is transformed.

The dimming sunlight of early evening reflects off from the snow that has settled into the landscape. The previously white snow becomes tinted with blue. The contours of the plowed, uneven land are reminiscent of gently rippling waves and the view outside my window is transformed from a bleak, cold wasteland into a quiet lake of icy blue that seems to float outside my window.

 

Since then I have been looking for color in places where I had previously assumed there was none.  

Earlier this week, with camera in hand, I took a short walk to document the color of winter I could find. Below are a few of the photos I took.

What I learned from this simple exercise is that winter has it’s own beauty when one takes the time to see it. I also learned that a wide range of color lives on through the cold, frozen season.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

January has ended and February has begun and I know that many of you are anxious to hear about the status of An Old Fashioned Christmas quilt pattern.

 I’ve been steadily working on the pattern drawings—too steadily it seems, because I have had some trouble with my eyes and I had to slow down. After a visit to the ophthalmologist earlier this week I have learned that my trouble is simply a factor in aging! So the good news is that I am back at the drawing board and ignoring the many extra squiggles floating in front of my eyes.

As usual, Foxglove Cottage orders are heavy after the first of the year and so there is an increase of work that I am trying to keep current. 

And then, of most importance, my husband and I are celebrating our thirty-seventh wedding anniversary this week. We were reminiscing yesterday about our first purchases as a married couple—a 12-inch COLOR television set and living room furniture—that I made in the form of three very large floor pillows.

The fact that we had a color television set was worth bragging rights since they were fairly new at the time. The television set’s small size did not bother us at all because back then it was not all that small.

I made the giant pillows from wide-wale corduroy, with a 27” zipper closure in one end to allow the inner muslin pillow to be removed so our “furniture” could be laundered. We went to a warehouse to buy the shredded foam rubber pieces in bulk. The bag we bought literally filled the back seat of our car. That giant warehouse that was the quietest warehouse-type building I have ever been in. It was quiet because the entire building was literally filled with foam rubber, absorbing every sound.  

The most amazing part of our early memories together is how pleased we were with ourselves and the comforts our purchases provided us. How times have changed!

Enough of memory lane, it is back to work for me. Oh, and in case you are wondering, the darling model at the top of this posting is our youngest and seventh granddaughter. Life doesn’t get any better!

Although I dislike the thought of another year passing away with many things yet undone, a new beginning brings new hope.

For me, last year was a year of reset and rejuvenation. For far too many years I have neglected some basic things, like saying “yes” when the answer should have been “no”, and I have let work commitments override the needs of family—saying to myself “they will understand”. And, yes, they do understand but our little ones kept growing and we all kept aging whether I was there to enjoy them or not.

With my focus now clearer, my energy renewed, and my resolve strengthened, I am ready for the challenges of a new year.

This year I have plans for two new publications. I am making this announcement to you with great trepidation because I know that you all will take me at my word and that you will remind me often of my promise.

My first publication will be the long-awaited publication of “An Old Fashioned Christmas”. The delay has mostly been all about indecision—book or pattern format. I have now decided that pattern it will be……I think. I will know for sure when I get a final quote from the printer. Depending on my daily work load, it will be ready late this month (January) or February.

The second publication is a quilt called “Izzy’s Choice.” Unlike “An Old Fashioned Christmas” the pieces are large, the pattern is easy, and the colors are fresh and quite different from quilts you have seen me do in the recent past.

It is a nine block quilt with a swag border. It’s name was inspired by one of my granddaughters, whose favorite colors inspired the quilt’s color pallet.

Now that I have committed myself I am off to work.

I hope that you find time in each day to do the things that are most important. I know that I will be focusing on that one most important goal myself.

Many, many years ago, before I decided to pursue a quilt career, I made Christmas tree ornaments for sale.

It was a sad time in our lives for me because my husband had been laid off work (during the recession in the early 1980’s) and I had to go back to work.

I was trained as a secretary. I easily found a job as a legal secretary, but it was not a good fit. I could do the work just fine but I was unhappy because I could no longer be at home full time. With our two children in elementary school, I wanted to be a full time, stay-at-home mom and that was not possible with my job.

So, I started looking around at what I could do and still be at home when the kids got home from school. At that time craft boutiques were just beginning and I decided to try making things to sell, hoping that my crafts would be wildly popular and I could quit my job.

In the evenings I stitched and stuffed and sold what I had made during the week on the weekend at craft fairs. I made napkin ring pincushions and fridge magnets from counted cross stitch designs. As well, I made Christmas tree ornaments. My most popular Christmas tree ornaments were a pair of miniature Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls with hand painted faces. They were six inches tall. I made and sold hundreds of these cute little guys.

 

After two years of working dual jobs I finally gave up, recognizing that I could never replace my salary with crafts. The following Christmas I realized that I did not own a single set of Raggedy dolls for my own Christmas tree.

Then five or six years ago I pulled out my patterns, fabric and stuffing to make a few more sets for my sister—who had complained every year that she did not have a set of Raggedys but her mother-in-law did. Together we made enough dolls for her and the gifts she wanted to make, but when we were finished I realized that, once again, I did not make myself a set.

This year I ran into a friend from my craft fair days. She, unlike me, was very successful with her dollmaking. Pauline Davenport has established a great reputation as a dollmaker and she is still successfully teaching classes, making dolls and patterns for dolls. In fact, the elf shown at the top of this post is a current Pauline creation.

She told me that every year at Christmastime she thinks of me when she puts up her Christmas tree because she has two sets of Raggedys that she puts on her tree. When I told her that I did not have any, she said, “That must change.”

When I saw Pauline this past weekend at the quilt shop where I teach she presented me with one of her sets of my original Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls. So now, after more than twenty years, a pair of my dolls have come home.