quiltersmuse.com Blog

Sometimes, I look around me, and all I see are unfinished projects. Never mind all the quilts and embroideries I have finished. The ones that are not yet done, sit there in reproach. Then, I look at the shelves that hold quilt fabric that I just had to have that day, in the excitement of a trip to a quilt shop. I would have to live a very long time to use every scrap, every tool, and every spool of thread I have ever acquired.

When I get discouraged, wondering how I am going to finish everything I’ve started, I don’t have to think for very long before I know that it’s alright. I remember all the people who have shown me their mother’s or grandmother’s unfinished quilt and asked for my advice as to whether or not to finish it. Since the value of many of those is strictly sentimental value, I feel that is a meaningful and important link to the past for those who want to take their time to finish a loved one’s work, sometimes the work of someone whom they never personally knew.

If the fabric appears to be sturdy enough, and is from the twentieth century, I usually tell the inquirer to go ahead and then tell her ways to preserve the piece, with usual caution and advice similar to what I wrote in my book, Straight Talk About Quilt Care.

The other side of the coin, for unfinished projects, or UFOs, is that some collectors prefer to collect quilt tops. They take up less space, are more easily transported when giving talks, and afford the viewer the opportunity to see the back of the work (the piecing). In nineteenth century quilt tops, that is quite an interesting study in itself.

I don’t expect to live long enough to finish all my quilts. I don’t say that because I am in any known danger of dying. I say that because even though a pile of UFOs loom in my studio, in the excitement of new ideas, I keep starting more projects.

The main goals are not to get bored and not to lose interest. My hope is that long after I’m pushing up the daisies, someone else will find my unfinished work a blessing and a treasure. I can’t do it all. I’m “just a woman.”

Have a good weekend!

Pat

Every day is a constant round of decisions. Some of them are more simple than others. I learned one thing about decisions when I was taking an Education course, and that is: decisions are easier to make if they involve a choice between two things. So, it’s much easier for a child to answer the question, “Would you like cold cereal OR scrambled eggs for breakfast?” If you just say, “What do you want for breakfast?” – well, that question is a little too open-ended, and is more difficult to answer.

Today, I made a decision. It is not one of those earthshaking ones, just a little one. I decided to go to K-Mart to buy an artificial Christmas tree. The price tags ranged from $79.99 to $299. (or was it $399?). Anyhow, we picked out a tree that we liked, which is already set with colored lights.

This idea has been a long time in coming. My Dad had planted a tree nursery on the farm where I grew up, and I’ve been used to having live trees, most of my life. Around here, the live trees option involves going to a “cut your own” farm and giving them an arm and a half of one leg, in payment, or for the same price, buying a half-dead tree, cut in Canada in August, bundled, and shipped down.

All things considered, not the least of which are my allergic reaction to leaf mold, and my lack of patience with falling needles and constant watering, we now have a tree that should last for the rest of our lives.

I’m glad that’s settled. One less thing to stress me out. Now, we are looking forward to displaying our very wonderful and extremely eclectic collection of Christmas ornaments, many of them made by friends or family members.

Among them is a paper Danish star, given to us by my daughter-in-law, counted cross stitch ornaments from various friends, and clay sculpted and painted ornaments made by my sister, who is an artist. There are ones that were made by my son, in grade school, including a profile of a horse, made with felt, and embroidered. He used the buttonhole stitch to adhere two pieces of felt, and he added embroidered details. He made that in about the third grade, if I remember correctly. So clever and smart he was at such an early age! I always feel happy to see the decorations again, after having them carefully packed away.

The holidays are tough for a lot of people, especially for those missing loved ones far away. For those who are sad or depressed, seeing how happy other people supposedly are, if we are to believe the television, only increases a sense of not being connected to the greater world.

This year, I am planning to have a nice holiday season. I will bake our time-honored family recipe for “Stollen,” order a fruitcake from Collin’s Bakery in Texas, and probably eat it all by myself, over time, as my family does not like it. We will visit the LaSalette Shrine in Enfield, NH, an annual trek to see the mountainside full of light displays. If there is a good concert anywhere, then we may attend that. Of course, I will listen to Bing Crosby, watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” for the umpteenth time, wrap gifts, and otherwise have a pre-programmed, good time, just because I can. I’ve come to the conclusion that attitude is all.

I hope that you, too, will enjoy the holiday season that is upon us, beginning next week, and that you will also pre-plan events that make you happy.

As always,

Pat

I sometimes get accused of singing a few dirge like tunes, and one that can certainly qualify for that category is a Negro spiritual entitled, “Sometimes I Feel like a Motherless Child.” Of course, the words refer to children who were sold away from their parents to other plantations and how they must have felt.

The song is plaintive and rendered in a slow manner. It’s the kind of tune that sticks in your brain, only to keep replaying itself. I’d made a stab at recording it a while back, but was not very satisfied with the rendition, so today, I recorded it again. Click here to go directly to the song.

Music is such a powerful point of connection to history. Sometimes, just sometimes, a song can connect with one’s personal history. I am a “motherless child,” my ninety-two year old mother having passed away a year ago. Before that, I’d lost her to dementia, and old age. When one is getting ready to die, he or she becomes detached from the world and from loved ones. Maybe this makes it easier to go on that last, lonely journey.

So, when I sing that song, it is heartfelt, from its historical context, and from experiences along my own personal life’s path.

At some point, we inculcate all we’ve learned about nurturing and begin to be caretakers to others. The lessons we have learned by the time we reach middle age have been hard, but we are survivors, a fact that many others can’t claim.

It’s alright to set aside a few moments, now and then, to be sad about the past…and think of things we could have done and didn’t, things we wish we had accomplished, and tasks we left to another day, but that day never came.

At some point, we who are adult women must become our own mothers, and our own point of reference, and then, a resource for others. In that way, our mothers will remain with us, even though they rest on God’s golden shore.

A tearful Pat

In 1973, when I bought my first sewing machine, a Sears Kenmore brand, I thought it would be the only machine I’d need, or want, for the rest of my life. The machine is rugged, with all metal parts, and no plastic to break. It has “cams” for decorative stitches. It certainly came in handy for making such things as a suit for my first husband, that he so bravely wore, (teeheehee), and maternity dresses for me, to give the high school kids I was teaching something at which to laugh. Yes, those were the days before I swore off on clothes making altogether and realized my real talent lies in quilt making…by hand!

Since that time, sewing machines are so advanced, they can record the image of you slaving over any given project, reach out and give you something to wipe your brow, and hand you a cold soft drink if you get too overheated from hot flashes. No, no. Just kidding. I do get carried away, but I bet I’ve just given a manufacturer some good ideas!

Music Playing Devices

Have you noticed the changes in the production of items to play music? I have a ton of cassettes. I am wondering if anyone actually makes cassette players any more. Our eight track tapes were discarded long ago. Then, we had CDs, which are still being sold, but one wonders for how much longer? What is the next generation of music players? Will it just consist of downloaded music from the Internet on iPods?

Need for Record Player

I have a dilemma. The other day, in a little used closet, I discovered a record, a 33 1/3 RPM, that measures 16″ across in diameter, (very oversize). The record contains historic information about a national credit union meeting in 1952. The record’s outer wrapping is addressed to my late father who was very instrumental in founding credit unions in New Hampshire. If only I could listen to that record, and find some way to translate the contents to another medium, to save for posterity!

When we moved everything out of the family homestead, it took constant decision-making as to what to keep. Evidently, the record came home with us and was placed in the closet, forgotten there since the late 1990s.
Seeing the record brings me back to my own childhood. I remember begging my mom for 45 RPM records, the little ones that would play on my kid size record player. While I can’t stand to hear the group now, at the time I liked Alvin and the Chipmunks. I remember all the songs of the 50s and 60s, like it was yesterday. “All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth,” “I Wanna Hold Your Hand,” “It’s My Party and I’ll Cry if I Want To,” and “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” are just a few of the tunes.

The thing that one comes to know about life is that it is constantly changing. What is new today is old tomorrow. We can only hope to paddle fast and not be swept over the dam. Change can be good, for the most part. However, the elderly sometimes long for more simple times. I don’t mind getting older. Now, if I could only learn to program that DVD player so I can play DVDs I ordered, on the TV… First, I’ll have to remember where I put my glasses.

Pat

Initially, I had named this blog, “The Spider’s Web.” I had reasons, none of which I explained. The “Spider’s Web” is a traditional quilt pattern that is rather fun to make.

A true spider’s web is an intricate collection of silky “threads,” closely interwoven and designed to catch prey…to eat later.

However, I would never think of devouring my readers. Rather, I like to ensnare them in my thought processes so that they can think and come to their own conclusions.

I love Victorian times, and the embroidered spider webs and spiders of Victorian age Crazy Quilts have always enchanted me. I appreciate spiders and their marvelous talent at weaving…for food. However, I don’t particularly appreciate their hunting when they decide to try their handiwork in a corner of my living room ceiling! The same work of art would be fully appreciated between slats on a fence, outside, with the early morning sun making the web’s dew sparkle.

I listen to my readers. One of them told me today that she does not like the spider web association, and that perhaps I should call my blog “from the cotton balls,” or something more light hearted.

For my part, I could call it “from the cuckoo’s nest,” or “the loon’s call,” and be just as happy. You see, for all the serious “stuff” I write, I do have a sense of humor, and that is often directed at laughing at myself. Maybe the Blog does not need a name at all, but I will be happy to accept any and all suggestions.

A rose by any other name smells just as sweet.

Pat

pat@quiltersmuse.com

You have all heard the expression, “Making Something out of Nothing.” I have always wondered about this phrase and today, I woke up pondering its meaning. How can someone make something…from nothing? I guess that all depends on the intent of the word “nothing.” What comes to mind, first of all, is a children’s book that is on the fringes of my memory. It was called, “Stone Soup.” Apparently, the woman had nothing to eat and began to make a soup by boiling a stone. The details of the story are vague in my memory, but somehow, I recall that she ended up with an edible concoction, after being able to add this, and that.

Life is a series of making something out of nothing. We are all born into this world without a stitch of clothing, and howling at the indignity of being thrust from our warm, comfortable, nurturing “home.” Who we choose to be and what successes we have are a result of hard work. We “make” something of our lives, or….we don’t.

That said, whether we are crafting our own lives or making a quilt, we still start out with raw materials, not exactly with “nothing.” We have the help and guidance of other people, first of all, our parents, or those who raise us. In making a quilt, we start with thread, fabrics, needles, and a pattern of our own design or one of someone else’s vision. While it is true that we do not all begin with the exact same opportunities, what matters most is what we do with the talents we possess.

There is great satisfaction in creating a material object “from scratch” – another expression that would be a bit baffling to a non-English speaker.

In thinking about this concept, in regards to quilting, Challenge quilts come to mind. They are always interesting to compare at quilt shows. The idea behind them is to have participating quilters use a group of pre-selected fabrics to create a unique quilt of their own design. In a sense, this is working from “scratch,” the “scratch” in this case, being fabric.

Another interpretation of the expression, “Making Something Out of Nothing,” is to exaggerate the inconsequential, i.e. to give more “weight” to a subject than what it merits, to make “too much of something,” “to make a mountain out of a molehill.”

Language holds many levels of meaning. Expressions that we take for granted, like “making something out of nothing,” and other phrases can provide food for thought. Now, I hope that I’ve not made “something out of nothing,” in writing about this topic. (very big grin)

Make it a great day!

Pat

Good morning,

I hope my headline is not too misleading. I have no intention of talking about the color of one’s skin. That is a TOTALLY different issue, and one that none of us has ANY control over. No, when I asked, “What Color Are You Today?” – I was thinking of how we choose to dress ourselves and the impact that choice makes on others around us.

Do you consciously put a lot of thought into the colors of the clothes you choose? Without a doubt, we choose colors we like and which look good on us. What is our point of reference? For me, my mother always complimented me whenever I wore something pink. That was one of her favorite colors, and both she and I looked good in pink. On the other hand, I adore the color orange, but have learned never to wear it. With my complexion, the color orange, worn near my face, is not complementary.

There are classic color combinations that seem to always work well, whether in a quilt or on a body. One of those is red, white, and black. That is why quilts with black and white checkerboard patterns in borders always seem contemporary, surprising, and just plain fun. It’s also why a black skirt, a white blouse, and a red sweater always look good together.

Another sure-fire combination is red, green, and white. These colors are cheerful together, and that’s probably one reason why we see so many antique quilts from the 1850s onward, with that color combination. Of course, wearing those same colors is primarily reserved for the Christmas season.

Traditionally, black represents loss and mourning – that overwhelming sense of desperation and sadness. At the same time, the color black can appear elegant, as in a beautiful dress, possibly with a gold belt, for evening wear.

Black fabric “habits” with white accessories were the traditional garb of nuns, such as the Sisters of Mercy. In that case, the dress symbolized their adherence to the strict rules of a religious order, and subservience, according to their faith.

The color Red has many associations, a few of which are anger, war, and power. The suggestion is frequently made to business women to wear the color, when giving a formal presentation. That is part of the concept of “power dressing.” Close relatives, the colors Magenta and Purple, have been highly prized colors, and have at times been reserved for wear only by royalty.

Green and Blue and “cool” colors, temperature-wise. Blue makes us “feel” cooler, when seeing the color worn by other people. Yellow, on the other hand, is the color of warmth and joy, reminiscent of the sun. Not everyone can wear the color well, but blondes look great in it.

Think about your mood when getting dressed for the day. Have a heightened awareness of the colors you choose to wear, and think about what “image” you want to project, for the day, and how your choice of colors may affect others.

Gray is a neutral color, being the combination of both black and white. The color looks stunning on people who have gray hair. Add a pink scarf to a gray sweater, and you’ll probably get a lot of compliments.

Color choices, whether in clothes or in quilts, and how they affect our emotive reactions, is a fascinating subject. I could chat about this longer, but I have to go decide what colors I will “be” today. Have fun!

Pat