Forensic Quilting

I've already confessed I'm a fabric junkie, well established since I used to beg to go to the Hathaway Shirt Factory in Ontario to get scraps. I had big dreams to start quilting, from age 12 on. I remember my beloved cousin Lou Ann asking me to make her a quilt, and I was overwhelmed. She told me not to worry - she'd give me 20 years to complete it. That sounded like forever. It was 28 years ago. Still no quilt.

I've done a couple of pillow covers, baby quilts, a sampler with a class. I just get overwhelmed by opening up a pattern book and it says "Cut out 844 of pattern A, 1688 of pattern B, etc." The best book I ever got was called Quilting for the Careless. Let's face it - I have 10 minutes to do a little something, not a long weekend with only my sewing machine for company.

I started a simple scrap quilt 5 years ago. I do a bit, here and there, now and then. Now the term "scrap quilt" would lead one to believe that I would make do with the oodles of fabric I've accumulated. But no - I've been buying a juicy fat quarter here, a scrumptious yard or two there. And just to confirm I am in fact insane, I am doing it all - cutting, piecing, and quilting - by hand.

After having spent so much time with the hypothetical quilt already, and considering myself lucky if I complete it before my death - I am simply incapable of imagining giving it away. Call me selfish. I just don't have that generous of a spirit.

So imagine my consternation at the Textile Center sale, finding several mostly done quilts and such. The care and cost of picking out fabric, choosing a design, cutting out a zillion pieces, and machine-piecing about a half of them, and then simply walking away??? I don't get it. But I'll pick up wherever they left off...

Hence forensic quilting, because although the ziploc baggies are full of fabric and pieces and borders, there is no road map or pattern. I laid out the (supposedly) twin size quilt on the dining room table the other day, and was lucky to have a spatially-gifted friend over to help me put it all together. At least in theory. Here's the pictures.



I think this is the keeper:












I didn't like how the big squares arranged here, so this is a design we discarded:

Back into the pile:

Let's be realistic - I have a new sewing machine and more of a learning cliff than I feel comfortable with. And I'm operating in the dark without a clue. So even halfway started, this is going to take me a while. But I feel fortunate to pick up where someone left off, even if I don't understand it.

Squandered

It was one of those days that I truly wasted - no motivation to bring to the many to-do's that are looming large. I felt the need to vacuum at one point, but sat quietly until the urge passed. My guilt requires I admit I let my son watch way too much tv today, even if it was PBS. Some days are about recharging. By the end of mine, I was reminded why...

Many tales of loss today - jobs, friendships, lovers taken away without warning. Although none of them affected me directly, they left people I love in a world of hurt. And it is a curse of the empathetic: to know the extent of pain but still be incapable of actually of doing anything at all to make it better.

Having looked over my day, I don't feel much like writing. It doesn't take much of a dose of reality to remind me that this is a vanity project and there are much more worthwhile pursuits. But I am nearly 1/3 of the way through this year, and although I haven't exactly had huge revelations or leaps of personal growth worth writing about, I need to continue. Follow through has never been a strong suit of mine. Baby steps...

I had a neat experience a couple of weeks ago, when I attended a conference that was actually worth my while. (I am racking up continuing education hours for my license renewal, which is both tedious and expensive.) I wandered in, took an aisle seat, got settled. I know I'm not interested or energetic enough to stay on task for a 7 hour conference complete with PowerPoint and bad coffee - so I brought some quilting piecework to do. It's an adult learner thing; multi-tasking actually helps me pay attention. I struck up a conversation with a lovely lady behind me and she really is a gem - painfully candid, from Iowa, very funny - and has dedicated her life to running a city mental health center for the past 28 years. She is both a cat lady and a collector of antiques, and we commiserated about the quantities of stuff that take over while your priorities are elsewhere. Over lunch she told me about an experience several years ago when she ordered some books on antique toys and wound up getting a box full of quilting books instead. She sorted things out with the bookseller, and they told her they'd send the correct ones and she could keep the others. So for a few years, she's had these great books on quilting just sitting around, but she knew she'd find the home for them eventually. Last week, I got the box of them in the mail. They are really nice and I need to write her a thank you instead of blog-blabbing... anyways, I had a point. It's so easy to be in communities of interest these days, that it's kind of fun to be open to happenstance where you have all the elements and need to find the connections. We're all just folks, and everyone has a story. When we don't take the opportunity to connect, that's truly wasteful.

And another thing....

In homage to the lowly yard sale, a short film done in 48 hours by some way-too-talented folks who are probably prohibited from ever actually attending a garage sale, due to their overwhelming hipness.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ThPgR4TcNM

One of the guys is a high school classmate of mine, but is much hotter in person.

You never can tell!

Just today I managed to get the garage sale clothes out of the dryer and into rotation for the kids, namely L who is a lot tougher to buy for as her size is weird and her tastes vary daily. And there is no discernible transition time - yesterday she liked yellow uniform blouses paired with skorts, today only red polos and jumpers will do. She's not exactly a morning person so you can imagine the scene as I'm sifting thru laundry, clean and not-so-very, as she whines about having to wear that dumb whatever.... I was taken aback when she liked 5 out of 6 items, and kindly suggested I wear the discarded pullover as "that's really more your green than mine."

At the St. Mark's garage sale I was able to pick up a couple of uniform skirts for $1 each, with room to grow. Someone in the parish has a pretty hefty clothing budget, because I snapped up two pullovers and one embroidered cardigan from Hanna Andersson. Love the clothes but rarely find a sale good enough to justify purchasing them first-hand. They seem nearly impossible to wear out, too. We were lucky to have one of the Grandmothers take the kids on a shopping spree last fall - by far their favorite clothes, and ones I'm not embarrassed by. (Do clothes shrink en route to church? Even though I check before we leave, I always seem to be walking in with my son in high-waders and my daughter with a bare midriff. Yeesh.)

X has managed to catch up or eclipse those kids around that used to keep us flush with hand-me-downs, but is a lot less picky so I think we'll be fine. Plus our traveling Grandpa keeps him in quite the t-shirt collection, featuring dragons and tuk-tuks and the occasional panda bear. I had bought some cute shorts over the last year so we're set for summer. Even though they go barefoot every chance they get, we're good on sandals. (I know it's lame to buy things in advance and store them, but it really has saved me over the years. And the kids get so excited when they finally get to wear those darling violet Mary Janes that have been lurking in the closet...) I did get some puddle boots for X, on e-bay, for $10 and they are quite the hit.

Bob did buy another stereo for his car (4th? 5th?) at $100. He thought briefly about buying a used one but realized that that's probably supporting the industry of folks who have been stealing his car stereos for years now. And he bought some computer software for X to help with the Kindergarten skills. And some train movies...

Seeing as my 40th birthday and Mothers Day occur on the same day, I informed Bob that in the spirit of simplicity, estate and antique jewelry was just fine with me. He chose not to hear that one, claims he doesn't read the blog, so if you see him - remind him!

So not buying anything new just got a whole lot easier, thanks to the return of the garage sale season. The forecast on my self-control, not quite so promising. Hopefully the heady novelty of seeing neighbors and pawing through other people's crap will wear out soon enough.

Rainy weekend notwithstanding

... Spring has sprung. It's official. The long dark days of winter are past. Two unmistakeable signs: it's still light out when I am trying to wrangle kids into bed at a decent hour, and the return of the garage sale.

My life just got a lot more interesting.

I admit I am a garage sale junkie. Which usually translates into a junk-junkie. With my aspirations to purchase only used items, garage sales can now make up a large part of the shopping experience I'd been missing. Yes, thrift stores have the "searching for treasure" appeal, but it's just different. Garage sales are more like scavenger hunts... changing location and strategy on the fly, hoping to score that elusive whatever you've been meaning to replace/procure/duplicate and/or supplement. It's all there. Possibly... somewhere. And looking is half the fun.

Since weather in this region is dicey at best in April, most schools and churches are doing their rummage sales now, and indoors. We hit the St. Mark's one yesterday, shortly after opening, and I scored a lovely used Singer sewing machine (needs tune up) for a measly $20. As my current sewing machine makes alarming crackling noises and occasional smoke when I press down on the pedal - and it was expensive to take it in last time for the exact same problem - it seemed a good call. Also scored some nice Hannah Anderson tops for L, sewing notions, a couple of skirts and a vintage table cloth that needs to be turned into a skirt. The find: vintage travel Scrabble set: $1.

So other than the sewing machine and the school uniform skirts, not much here met the criteria of being necessary. I found it amusing that Janel came to the sale with a shopping list, and asked me what I was looking for - and I was stumped. But the old "I'll know it when I see it." is admittedly a dangerous mindset.

It's time for me to reveal my innermost shopping self: I am a manic magpie.

The inner dialogue goes something like this: "What's this? What's this? Oooh bright colors and shiny.... and what's this? More! It's the perfect ___________ I've been looking for to pull of a feat worthy of Martha Stewart when you add _______, hot glue some _____ and then make a ________ for your very own, hand made _________!!! That will be so cool. Is there more? Perfect! "

There's a fine line between creative optimism and elaborate delusion. Usually I'm running somewhere perpendicular to 'em both.

Happy Earth Day!

Seems like Earth Day and all things about "green" living are all over the media this month. You know the economy is bad if talking about the environment is now a "fluff piece" in the evening news. I don't remember other years being quite so intense. National Geographic has a great piece on green roofs this month. The Sunday New York Times magazine was entirely devoted to environmental issues. Just to mention a couple that are well worth reading.

I've been closely following developments in technology that make possible living more mindfully about the energy we use, and the waste we leave behind. I'm still hopeful. There are small but positive signs - our neighborhood is overrun with Priuses and fully electric cars, not to mention lots of year-round intrepid bikers. From where I sit on my front step I can see an impressive solar panel display on a nearby duplex. At our garden store, the plants came in compostable pots made of rice, corn and bamboo. Small, hopeful changes integrated into every day life.

I know there are plenty of economic reasons why available technologies aren't more widely used, or aren't given enough research and development resources. I just don't want to hear them. That's usually Bob's role as Primary Killjoy, and I get lost in the stream of statistics on return investments and undue burdens on early adopters. So geothermal heating and cooling systems are unbelievably expensive to install (@$40k) and may never fully repay the initial cost... shouldn't we be doing it anyways?

That is the royal "we", by the way. People who can afford to pay more for a house or car can subsidize the industry until technology is well enough established to be put in reach of lower income consumers. On an entirely volunteer basis, of course. We should spend our money on the lifestyle we value - and for too long that has meant a high-consumption one. With so many people un- or under-employed, savings and stock options eviscerated - living large has become socially unacceptable enough that those still solvent try not to brag about it. Maybe similar societal pressure can be brought to bear on environmental sensibilities. And not just from the alternative crowd - mainstream folks giving the message that conspicuous consumption just isn't a status symbol or virility enhancer.

I admit I flip off Hummers. I do. Whether or not the kids are in the car, even if I'm not wearing mittens. The way I see it, driving a ridiculous gas guzzler well outside a military purpose is a way of screaming derisions at the environment and those who revere Mother Earth. I'm not alone - check out www.fuH2. It's moderately amusing in an admittedly sanctimonious way. Just because I'm approaching my dotage doesn't mean I don't enjoy acting juvenile.

Time to get out and enjoy the sunshine.

Crafty Ladies

About a month ago I was alerted to a very tempting fundraiser at the Textile Center - $25 entry, and first dibs on their huge fabric sale. Initially I was in, and then my subconscious must have tried to intervene - because I absolutely spaced it. (That's happening a lot lately. Say hello to 40, say goodbye to your memory retrieval capabilities.) So when my friend asked me if I was going, I said - uncharacteristically - no. I did not in fact need fabric, and knew setting foot in the hallowed halls of fabric and yarn would be way too much for my elusive self-control.

I love how my friends are supportive of me and encouraging me to set limits, etc. but just not with them....

At the call later on in the day, I was easily swayed - we'll call it Girls Nite Out, with an auxiliary crafting fix. I asked Bob what his plans were for the evening and he replied unhesitatingly "Watching the kids so you can go do something." That's always a good answer. 20 points awarded. When he did ask where we were headed I said a FUNDRAISER at the Textile Center. No mention of my fabric compulsion.

We arrive at the Textile Center to see a block-long line of women (a few token men, representing bored husbands everywhere) and I haven't felt such excitement since scoring good tickets to see REM in 1989... which is admittedly sad, on many levels. The doors open and the line moves quickly as we stumble over each other to hand in our admission fees and get to the fabric.

I don't even look at the silent auction items, or the food/drink - we're hyperfocused. Audible gasps are heard as we enter the room - 8 long rows of tables, plus the perimeter, with head-high stacks of fabric. I get sucked into the vintage fabric vortex but am quickly overwhelmed so I retire to the cotton corner. I'm so focused on the piles, I don't even notice I'm standing next to one of our preschool teachers, Mary, wearing a super fun skirt she just "whipped up" this afternoon, in celebration of the sale. I freely admit I am outclassed, outwitted and outplayed - but still I'm stuffing rolls and rolls in my bag. There's a feeling of "grab now, sort later" so I'm not answering the "yeah, but what will you do with it?" question. The prices are pretty awesome: 4 yards of upholstery fabric to redo the dining room chairs - $5, gallon-sized Ziplocs full of vintage scrap, $1. If you don't mind getting trampled, checking the boxes underneath the tables is even more fun. At some point I hear a collective groan and look across to see one of the piles toppled - imagine a game of Jenga but with fabric. I narrowly miss causing an avalanche myself. Folks are laden with grocery bags, bolts, etc. and there is much jostling.

Some stuff I can't even process - boxes upon boxes of sewing patterns, notions, trim. Imagine all the colors and patterns of an art museum - shoved into a much smaller space - and you get the idea of how visually overwhelming it was. Not that I was complaining, mind... My best find was the UFO section, which stands for "unfinished objects" and projects that time forgot. Heaps of mostly intact kits, quilt tops, dresses that need trim - it was the crafty version of the Island of Misfit Toys.

At some point we retreated to the corner and started to paw through our finds, ooh and aah, and even put some things back. The bunch of us are flying high with ambitions and acquisitions. There's a ten minute warning before we mosey towards the check out. The damage: $61.oo, plus $25 admission.


Janel, Mary, Jakki, and Sonji with our spoils. Note the jubilant smiles and celebratory beer.

When I got home and wandered through my purchases, I had a few happy surprises. Best deal ever - all the cut out pieces of an entire quilt (full? queen?), half-assembled, and in great patterns and colors. For a buck. Amazing. It might even force me to make friends with my sewing machine...

But my friends who sew are even more fun. Thanks, gang.