Tag: Appliqué Cat Quilt

And in the end, she kept calm and carried a lot of yarn…

When I wrote my last blog post two weeks ago, my world was full again, my son was home from a deployment in Syria, and all was well with the world. The next day, the Monday before Christmas, my daughter and I went to the theatre to see a lovely production of White Christmas at the Papermill Playhouse. It was a great show, and we drove home, completely unaware of what was happening in our house. A heating pipe burst (actually turns out in four places), in the back of my daughter’s second floor bedroom, and while we were gone, it flooded the back half of her room, and was raining through the ceiling fan of the floor below. We did our best to figure out how to shut off the water, call the police (who were kind and supportive but not very helpful), call the plumber hotline at 11pm the night before Christmas Eve, drag out rugs and debris that were most critical, file an online insurance claim, and realizing we had no water until the plumber could get there in the morning, went out to an all night QuickChek (which my daughter apparently knows well since she works the night shift), and a stop at a Taco Bell, because it was 2am. I don’t ask, she was driving…

Christmas Eve was a parade of contractors, insurance reps, a restoration company, the plumber, all while I had promised a friend to drive her to the airport in what turned out to be a blinding snowstorm. You can’t make this stuff up. In it all, I stayed remarkably calm, because the alternative wasn’t very productive.

Christmas night, my wonderful son came over, helped me move anything that was not nailed down from the affected rooms, and we got take out Chinese. Not my best Christmas ever, but certainly a memorable one, and my son, who has been through hell and back, was the most amazing level headed, flexible, calm and decent human being, and I couldn’t be more proud of him.

8am the day after Christmas a crew showed up. And the mitigation work began. By noon my den looked like this.

They moved the sofa, and put in my living room, where I already had two sofas. They put the credenza with the TV in front of the piano, in my dining room. They tried to work around a floor to ceiling bookcase, and a 1950’s phone booth. Don’t ask…

In the upstairs, my daughter worked all through Christmas night, since she works nights, and this was her night off, and moved everything from her room into a guest room. To save all of her stuff, I lost count after 18 loads of laundry. Time was of the essence, and since she works the night shift, filling in for a Christmas Eve overnight into Christmas morning, I jumped in to help. (My daughter is a critical care Vet Tech in an 24/7 vet hospital).

By the afternoon her room was filled with drying equipment.

And same with the den, the noise was deafening. The only place I could escape the noise was my studio. There is a metaphor there I’m sure…

And so, for the next four days, I listened to the loud sound of machinery drying out my home, meanwhile, I hid in the only places unaffected, my weaving studio, my sewing studio, and my bedroom/office. This was not a bad thing.

I had planned to go to my mom’s after Christmas to show her the progress on The Quilt. Of course I had to cancel those plans because of the mitigation work, and since I was basically confined to the studio, I started winding skeins for dyeing. And I kept working on the twill sampler…

And then there were knots over the back. Yippee!

And I finished something like four towels worth on the new towel yardage…

And I kept working on the quilt. New Year’s Eve, I went to a concert, part of Morris County’s First Night, the cello player was my teacher. I went with one of my music friends and we went out for sushi afterwards. I was home by 9pm. I spent the rest of New Year’s Eve working on the quilt. I finished all the appliqué work 30 minutes after midnight.

That spurred me on to get the borders on the quilt, which spurred me on to go out to a quilt store for backing fabric, batting and advice. I was out anyway picking up my work from the Shakespeare Theatre pop up shop, where it looks like they sold $700 worth of my work. They get to keep all the money. We do what we can to support the arts.

Anyway, I got lots of advice, about how to quilt, whether to cut the edge binding on the straight of grain, as suggested in the directions, or whether to cut it on the bias, which, why wouldn’t you do that? In the end, I did what I wanted, because why would I do anything else?

I came home, inventoried my work while I washed the backing fabric, and then set to work trying to figure out how I was going to quilt it. I decided that I’m not skilled enough to do free motion embroidery, and I didn’t want to see machine stitching anyway, to compete with all the hand appliqué. So I stitched in the ditch wherever background fabrics were pieced. It was enough quilting for a wall hanging, and by Friday night, last night actually, the quilting was done.

Today I attended a winter sow lecture at the library in the next town, and came home with a tray of pots filled with soil and seeds from a number of different perennials. They will get cold hardened outdoors, under chicken wire (which they provided as well), and be ready for the spring.

Then I went down to the sewing studio, and put on the binding. On the bias. Because I know better.

So the quilt is finished except for a rod pocket, I can’t believe it. My weaving friend Tommye Scanlin, wrote a lovely book called Marking Time with Fabric and Thread, just out in October. Tommye is an incredible tapestry artist, and the book is about marking time, fiber artists who use their medium to mark days, weeks, months, years. Journaling of sorts. It is a beautiful book, full of inspiration. And this quilt was like that. I spent the last 15 months or so working on it, through a challenging year, it was so centering and so calming, and one of the most important things I’ve done in recent years. All for my mom, who wanted to make this but her eyes and hands at 93, just can’t. So mom, this one is all for you. Thank you for the gift this quilt was in helping me mark time.

So the carrying yarn thing in the title? 1/4 of my daughter’s floor to ceiling 12 feet of wall closets, is full of yarn. She had some pretty great stuff in there. (Which I’m stealing, she doesn’t read my blog!) I started carrying all the yarn down to the weaving studio to figure out where to put it. The knitting machines are now down in the weaving studio. This is going to take a long time to sort out, but ultimately, we lost nothing. Everything was cleanable, and salvageable, including the wool rugs, and I’m thinking of rehoming the TV and credenza because I don’t ever watch TV, and turning the den into a music room, with the piano, the cello, and all my recorders, music stands, and music. I’m part of the music world now and getting together at peoples homes to just play is a real joy. I want to have that space too. I even brought my cello, beginner that I am, to a rehearsal of Christmas music with some of the newer recorder players, the Monday right before the flood, and held my own playing the bass line, which I knew well on the recorder, but now I could play it on the cello.

So my world going into 2025, after 16 years of blogging, is a little turned upside down, but I have friends, I have places to gather with friends, I have plants patiently doing their winter thing, I have music, I have yarn, I have some fresh MX dyes on their way from Prochem, and I have projects waiting to help me mark time. And I have a quilt ready to take and give to my mom. All is well with the world, at least in my little corner. Eventually reconstruction will begin, but for now the house is quiet again. Happy New Year to all of my readers who have stuck with me over the last 16 years, I hope you find lots of new adventures, things to learn, and new friends in the new year.

Stay tuned…

My world is whole again…

I will admit that I struggle with this whole season. And it is sad and heartwarming at the same time, the amount of people who seem to feel the same way. Expectations, family dynamics, travel, too much food, or not enough, all of it can consume you and leave you empty and depressed.

The woman behind me in line at the post office asked me in a friendly conversation starting way, if I was all ready for Christmas. I didn’t know her, a stranger, but she was eager to be friendly and just picked a way of striking up a conversation. I don’t think she was completely prepared for my answer, which was basically, “no”. I explained to her that I really had no plans for the holidays, as I had a son who was deployed, and hoped he would come home in time, but even if he didn’t, December 25th wasn’t some magical date where everything would come together. I had no plans, because there was no one to plan with.

The end of the year holiday season has always annoyed me from a business standpoint, it is largely just inconvenient, things are closed, places are overwhelmingly busy, schedules like deliveries are off, and I’m completely sick of emails begging for money, telling me how wonderful their products are for gift giving, “last chance on our special offer”, etc. I think January is really my favorite month because it is just normal. No holiday anything. Just 31 days of silence.

I don’t want to be a scrooge, yet this time of year really is, for me, magical, but not in the way that everyone seems to celebrate. My expectations are that it is cold, the gardens are asleep, the Winter Solstice is reassuring in that the light will come again, and that this is the season of generosity, of music, of gatherings with friends and strangers, and this is the season of one of the reasons for weaving. Towels. Lots and lots of towels. Even though my family is begging me to stop giving them towels, because their drawers are full, there are lots of others who have never gotten a towel, and are absolutely delighted with such a useful pretty gift.

So I finished up the 9 towels on the warp, I’ve already given out a few, and decided that they were so much fun to weave, I should just tie on another warp.

I looked at my vast stash of 8/2 cotton and randomly picked an icy warp.

I wound another 10 yards…

Tied it into the existing warp,

Beamed it onto the warp beam,

And started to weave. I’m sure the warp would be even prettier with a dark weft, but I have a couple of cones of an icy gray, and decided that rather than buy more cotton to have a dark weft, I’d just use what I have. Head start on next year, or hostess gifts when I need them.

I finished up the Deflected Double Weave Warp I had transferred to my floor loom from one of my Structos. I grabbed another one of the Structos and started offloading that warp onto my small floor loom.

This one was set up in a four-shaft twill sampler, or gamp, and once it was on the floor loom, weaving it off was a breeze. There was only three yards of warp on this, so I’m just weaving it as a scarf, but it may turn into zip bags, or I don’t know, I don’t have to monetize everything…

My guild’s final meeting of the year is usually some simple project, a make it take it kind of thing, and this year’s project was actually a bit magical. We created little weavings in the round, around a ring covered in cotton.

I took what was leftover from the guild sale, what didn’t sell of mine, and gave it to the Shakespeare Theatre of NJ for their small gift shop in the lobby of the Kirby Theatre at Drew University in Madison. I did this last year, and they ended up selling $500 worth of my items, and of course they get to keep all the money; my gift to them and the fantastic productions they do. There was a table of handmade items, some were mine, and some were by the ShakesPurls, a knitting group that supports the Theatre.

They had a large tree in the lobby filled with my ornaments.

They had a greeting card rack, and as I spun it around, I found all of my cards.

This is the season of music. And I’m really enjoying all the opportunities to play, dress up, rehearse, and I’m really really loving playing the cello. I practice at least an hour a day. We had both our holiday concerts with Montclair Early Music, many of you asked to see my costume, made up largely from just stuff in my closet I altered for effect.

I was hanging in the sewing studio, and started pulling out my more opulent fabrics that might work up into more costumes for the coming year. The public seems to love when we all come out in our medieval garb.

I have one more performance, this one tomorrow, in a local memory care facility. It is a great privilege to be able to take the gift of music to strangers, and maybe Christmas Carols might spark a bit of memory in those who have lost that ability. I love the music of the season, in all of its forms, though I will be glad to put away the holiday music and pull out new things to learn. We played Carol of the Bells at our winter concert a couple of weeks ago, which is Ukrainian, and after the concert, a couple of newly relocated Ukrainian families came up to the music director, with tears in their eyes, saying how much it meant to them to hear a bit of their homeland in this miserable war. Music has that power.

This time of year is for tying up loose ends, I love finishing up projects, and moving onto new challenges, and the greatest challenge I have ever taken on, was making this appliquéd cat quilt for my mom, from a Maggie Walker kit she bought in the 90’s. This was a really tough year for me, for many many reasons, and this quilt marked time, each month gone as I finished another block.

All of the last 100 pieces of the trumpet vine that runs through the central part of the quilt have been cut out, and today have been pressed under and ready to stitch on. I store them 10 at a time in sushi trays, stacked in order.

This is where the quilt is at this point, I’m seeing the end of an incredible project. I will miss it.

And the most important thing I want to share with all of you, is that he is home. My sister and her husband came with me yesterday to the National Guard Armory just outside of Princeton, and my son, who has spent the better part of this past year in Syria, is finally home. My heart is whole again. It will be a long road of reintegration for all of the returning troops, all he wanted last night was to go home to his apartment, with his beloved jeep that I kept repaired and running for him, and sit on his own couch with real pizza and a beer (no alcohol in Syria or any Islamic country). We brought him back to my house, where he grabbed his keys, hugged me goodbye, and took off to begin to pick up his life where he left off.

I’ll go and visit my mom who is 93, next weekend, and show her how far I’ve come on her quilt. That I still have my mom, and that she is still that amazing woman who raised me, is the biggest blessing of all.

Enjoy the magic of the season, the return to the light, the sleeping gardens, the opportunity to give gifts of music, things made from the hands, and just plain old friendship. Enjoy the music of the season, whether you play an instrument or not. And if you don’t, why not? I’m playing the piano again, glad I still kept the one I bought 40 years ago. And I play recorders, and now the cello. And there are always people to play with. You don’t have to be very good.

And I’m enjoying planning out my next year, what new adventures will I take on, what will my garden look like when everything wakes up? The night of the solstice it snowed about 4 inches. Everything is clean and white, and fresh.

Stay tuned…