I’m still in a red mode with Valentine’s Day on the horizon.
Lately I’ve been finishing some projects that have been in progress for a while…I miss playing with art quilts and story quilts, but finishing some of these has been satisfying.
The one that I finished yesterday is Yoko’s Garden. Several years ago I was inspired by some deliberately irregular polygons that Yoko Saito had appliquéd in one of her quilt books.
I cut some freehand hexagons from a collection of Japanese woven fabrics I had in shades of taupe and appliquéd them to a remnant of an old linen sheet. I love the soft neutral palette, but felt it needed a zinger, so I added a flower using a bit of a red cashmere coat I had felted. For several years, this piece has been spilling out of baskets here and there when I needed a touch of red.
This year in December I needed something to stitch with red in it. I picked up this piece, layered it on a bit of wool (not wool batting, but a piece of felted wool) and began hand quilting. I enjoyed that process through lots of tv time in December and January, added a binding and label, and I have a finished piece. The final piece measures 15” x 20”.
Hearts were cut freeform and positioned randomly.
Progress on red hearts is going well. Here, on the 8th day of February, you see the first 8 hearts. These are scattered over the linen tablecloth. I’ll fill in with more small hearts and add some embellishments, too.
I’m enjoying planning embellishments keeping in this beige/brown/red color scheme.
And let me just say, stitching on linen is so delicious!
I love to work on textile projects with the colors of the season. That means that I now need to stitch on red.
I have a couple of big projects in progress, but they aren’t red. So to soothe my soul, I reached back for this piece and began hand quilting it. During the Christmas season, this has been a glorious practice for me. I’m revisiting a piece I made several years ago – improvisationally stitching some Japanese fabrics in freeform hexagons on a linen remnant. It needed color, I thought, so I added the red wool flower.
I’ve learned that a piece doesn’t have to be finished to be enjoyed. This piece has been no exception… it’s hung about on chairs and falling out of baskets for several years when I needed an accent of red. Here you see it in a basket on top of a clock in the breakfast room.
The block from 52 Tuesdays proves how long this has been in the works…and my plan for quilting around the hexagons. This piece, still untitled, was appliquéd in 2015.
A couple of weeks ago, I layered it on a bit of felted wool and began stitching. Two layers of fabric, a needle and beautifully smooth thread, and I am content. The top layer is thin linen (used and washed again and again in its past life); the bottom is a lovely gray wool. There’s nothing like pulling a needle and thread through delicious buttery wool. (I’m using Aurifil #12 and loving it!)
Ahh… Stitching peace in this season.
Another example of display yet unfinished is this holly on wool. Here it is draped over another quilt on the ladder in the den (the backside of Tree Farm). This is one of Maggie Bonanomi’s designs.
And yet another wool appliqué posing atop something else. Just to add a splash of red to the dining room wall during Christmas. Again, the wool pattern is from Maggie Bonanomi.
One of my projects completed in 2020 was this School Days quilt made of wool and entirely hand stitched.
I had a delicious length of wool in a subtle plaid (thank you, Mary, for this glorious gift) that I wanted to use for the background. I love the schoolhouse block, but it’s traditionally a pieced block. I didn’t want to cut up this wool and sew it back together, I wanted to appliqué. So I refashioned the traditional pieced block into an appliqué pattern.
The lines in the plaid meant I wouldn’t have to mark anything if I made the schoolhouses the right size to fit within the repeat of the plaids. So a little measuring and planning, and I was ready.
I selected 20 different wools from my collection and ironed freezer paper templates on to the squares. From that point on, I had a perfectly portable project needing only needle, thread, and thimble to work anywhere.
I even laid the houses out on the background to get a pleasing distribution of color and pinned a swatch of fabric in each house’s position so I would know what went where.
I stitched each house to the wool using a whip stitch and thread (usually perle cotton #12) to match the house.
When that was done, I layered it with a piece of hand-dyed linen on the back, pinned it in place, and began quilting. I didn’t use batting – I thought the bulk of the wool-on-wool quilt was enough with a lightweight back. I used 12 wt Aurifil thread for the quilting and found it a delight to pull though the buttery wool fabric.
Again, I had nothing to mark, just stitched along threads in the plaid. It was sheer delight to have one spool of thread, a pair of scissors, a needle and thimble, and pick up and sew. Relax, relax, relax.
Having no batting meant no where to hide the knot, and “popping” wasn’t easy either. So, in another connection to past methods, I left the tails loose as if the quilt were “tied”. But my ties are on the back, not the front.
When it came time to add a binding, I didn’t. Add one, that is. I cut the backing 1” wider than the top, folded over, folded over, stitched down. That’s the way our grandmothers did it, and now I know why. It’s lots easier than cutting, pressing, stitching by machine with mitered corners, then hand stitching down. I will continue the latter process on most quilts, but bringing the back to the front on this one was a pleasure.
This was one of the quilts I carried on our photo trip to Indian Springs. Some of these photos were made there, some in our front yard. The finished size is 36” x 48”.
On a sunny day in February, we loaded up cameras and quilts and headed out on a ride-about.
We drove to Indian Springs State Park, where Jim and I can both travel down memory lane way back to our childhoods. Our personal histories are not quite as old as the park – established in 1927, it is the oldest state park in Georgia.
Jim and his Dad enjoyed the swings at Indian Springs around 1950.
My sister went to college near this park and my parents and I would visit and take her there for a picnic. Jim and his family went there for visits, too. It’s possible that our mothers carried quilts to Indian Springs, too. Their purpose would not be to photograph the quilts, but to sit on them on the ground.
On this day, we hung quilts in trees, draped them on benches and railings, hung them on gates. I think the stone walls, lovely trees, and big rocks are a nice backdrop for textiles of all sizes.
The largest quilt we carried was Seventy and Still Wearing Jeans, a quilt I made for Jim’s birthday a couple of years ago. We posed it on fences, stone walls, and on a really big old stump. Details about this quilt are here.
Smaller quilts, like Dots and Vines, were at home on smaller perches.
The quilts with those vibrant hand-dyed solid fabrics are most photogenic, I think.
The story of the wool schoolhouses and the small log cabin quilts will be detailed in upcoming blog posts.
I’ve been busy in recent days, but at first it seemed self-serving somehow to share my fun. You see, I love staying home and creating; so doing that is not much of a sacrifice to me. But at a time when others are compelled to stay put, whether for their own health or for the common good, and find it stressful, I thought it might be impolite to seem happy about it.
Social media tells me that the ones I know who are getting though this time of uncertainty most peacefully are those who stitch. That’s not news to me – that stitching soothes the soul. Others who sew (or knit, or paint, or draw, or build things) know the peace that comes with using your hands.
One of my favorite haunts is this booth at The Cotton Depot in Monroe, GA
Yes, I do miss going to antique stores and other venues where I get inspiration (and I miss eating the occasional meal without cooking, too). But, since I can’t do those things, I will enjoy the time to do what I can.
So here’s a summary of my recent days.
I first cleaned my sewing closet. The last big group meeting I attended was March 3 when I gave a program at a nearby quilt guild and taught a Stitch a Story class (techniques for textile collage). All those samples and supplies had to be put away and the suitcase refreshed for the next class. That next class has been postponed, but I am prepared.
Preparing for a class like that means pulling out elements from my stash, and I do that with abandon. So afterwards, the bonus room in our house (my sewing closet, I call it) over the garage, needs a lot of straightening. I did that with joy. Re-organizing and neatly placing fabrics and trims is a labor of love. Discovering forgotten treasures is part of the process.
I continue working on art quilts, and I’ve added a new passion: fabric flowers. The techiques and combinations of embellishments make for seemingly infinite possibilities. I keep a basket of supplies on hand when an idea strikes for a new approach.
I usually like to “do my own thing” these days, but a kit from Maggie Bonanomi was the perfect project for a few nights in front of tv. The bunny is now ready for gardening at our house.
And, speaking of gardening, Jim and I had created a new path through our woods in the past winter. Warmer temperatures inspired us to burn collected sticks and debris in evening fires in our firepit. Every day the walk on the trail leads us to new discoveries – most notably trilliums – on our property.
We delight in “surveying the plantation,” checking to see which plants have leafed out, which are still waiting to be sure frost is gone. It’s a thrill to see the first bloom on the Spiderwort (Tradescantia), the geranium that was protected all winter showing its color.
Quiet days now are spent reading and sewing. We watch little tv, but love old westerns. We watched an old episode of Gunsmoke yesterday where Doc had a couple of cholera patients. At the end of the episode, we remarked that “they didn’t mention quarantining Miss Kitty or anyone else.” We probably would not have noticed that in the past.
Tawanda is my outdoor spirit doll. She reminds me to be happy year round – but she is especially right about the garden these days as plants are coming to life (including the indigo).
So I guess you could say my quarantine days are spent in art therapy and dirt therapy. I hope yours are, too. And, I hope at the end of this we have all learned something about a kinder and gentler way to live, without so much hustle and bustle. May we all be safe.
On a recent Saturday ride-about, we took a big wool quilt in case we saw a spot for photos.We found a spot at Starr’s Mill, and gave Miss Nellie’s Country Garden some places to pose.
The quilt is my version of a pattern from Lisa Bongean of Primitive Gatherings.The wool appliqué is stitched by hand onto cotton background fabrics.The piecing together of the blocks and the quilting are done by machine.
As I worked on all aspects of this quilt, I thought of my Aunt Nellie.The wool appliqué – informal and free – and the garden theme led me to know the quilt had to be named for her.
She was known as Miss Nellie to most everyone in the community.I was lucky enough to know her as Aunt Nellie.She was a teacher, and so there are some people who knew her as Miss Hobby, too.She lived next door for my entire childhood, and serves to inspire me every day of my life.
She lived to the age of 91, and only in her 91st year was she unable to tend her garden.She grew vegetables to eat, to share, to can, and to freeze.She grew flowers for the joy of the bloom.
Aunt Nellie’s vegetable garden was neat and orderly, but her flowers were a riot of stems and leaves and blooms.Weeds were kept at bay in both places, but the separation she maintained in her butterbeans and squash was not valued in her flowerbeds.The snapdragons and pansies, the petunias and lilies and gladiolas all mingled about, with her snipping a cutting here and poking it in an empty spot there to take root and fill a space.And, take root they did.Her green thumb was legendary, possibly due in part by the load of fresh cow manure a local farmer delivered to her every spring.
She grew geraniums in pots, dahlias in aseparate bed all their own.She had a bit of yard art, too.I remember a whimsical bird bath, tiers of porcelain basins given to her by a friend.Once it developed leaks, it was repurposed as a planter for succulents.
So the whimsical nature of some of these quilt blocks is a perfect tribute to a woman from the country.The label is a block I had made because Miss Jump, one of Linda Brannock’s creations, reminds me of Aunt Nellie.
More quilt details:The quilt finished at 60” x 75”.I used a whipstitch to secure the wool to the cotton, usually with perle cotton thread, but sometimes with embroidery floss or even fine sewing thread.The quilting is all hand-guided freemotion stitching on my home machine.I used Dream Cotton Request batting and a cotton fabric for the background.And it was all fun!Just as Aunt Nellie would have wanted it to be.
Oh, and another detail.Because the wool is so visually heavy, I made a wider binding than I usually do.The “standard” 1/4” binding seems so wimpy on a large wool quilt, so I cut the binding 3 1/2”, then folded in half and stitched it to the front of the quilt with a hearty 3/8” seam allowance (or scant 1/2”).The binding then finishes (with these fabrics) at 1/2”. I used a woven plaid (easy to stitch down by hand) and cut it on the bias.
More about Aunt Nellie:I’ve written a lot about Aunt Nellie already, if you type “Nellie” in the search box, you’ll find several references to her.But, she is the older of the two “Spinster Sisters” in this post, where I shared more details of her: https://sandygilreath.com/spinster-sisters/
When I shared photos of quilts at Step Back, I promised details on the quilts I took on the visit. So, for those who are wondering about the Floozies quilt, here is its story.
On my first visit to Step Back, I mentally named this cabin “Waiting for Chinking,” since that’s the stage it’s in.I think there’s an art quilt with that title in my future, featuring this cabin.
When I later learned that this cabin is where the “floozies” hang out during the annual Christmas celebration, I knew I wanted my Floozies quilt to be photographed there.
One of the volunteers was kind enough to pose as a floozie with the Floozies! These fine upstanding women of the community act as hostesses at Step Back.They dress in vintage clothing and pose for photos and provide history lessons for visitors.
In other settings, Floozies is a brightly colored quilt. I love how the weathered gray of the buildings provides low contrast with the background fabrics; subduing things, making the birds seem right at home.
The title I used, A Flock of Feathered Floozies, came to me after a year of working on these birds to stitch them in place, then embellish them with beads and elaborate stitching using all kinds of rich threads.
The pattern, hand-dyed wool, and accessorizing threads and baubles came from Sue Spargo in her block-of-the-month pattern a few years ago.I had taken a class with Sue in the past and knew there was a lot more to learn from her.And learn I did.
In each month’s packet there were actually materials for three blocks.Wool background, wool for the birds, instructions, and embellishing threads of cotton or silk, of all sizes and twists. There is a lot of detail in each block, so click on the photo to enlarge to see things more closely.
The project was time consuming for sure.These birds were my companions virtually every evening for a year.As we watch tv, I’m usually doing hand sewing.Sometimes it’s a binding, sometimes it’s appliqué, but for that year, it was these birds. Every bit of appliqué and embroidery was done by hand. The sewing machine was used only when it was time to assemble the blocks and then quilt the layers together.
I kept up with the schedule, finishing each month’s three blocks just in time for the delivery of the next.I would get an email from Sue’s son when the next month’s block had shipped.If I wasn’t done, I would stitch faster!My self-imposed rule was not to open a package until the previous blocks were completed.Since I was anxious to see what Sue had planned for the next birds, I made sure I was ready when the mailman came.
With Sue’s companion book Creative Stitches beside me, I learned all kinds of embroidery stitches I had not known before.The wool appliqué was done with a whipstitch with matching wool thread, so it’s virtually invisible.Then each piece was backstitched with a Valdani #12 perle cotton thread.Sometimes other threads were used for embellishing stitches, sometimes the Valdani.
The background pieces were often embellished with ribbon or linen or cotton fabric, as are the birds.Just look at the French knots on the linen portion of this block.
Of all the new stitches I learned, I think I was most fascinated with the drizzle stitches.See them here?They make a loose fringe-like decoration on the tail of the bird above, but if left longer, they can be couched down to hold them in place.
Once the blocks were completed, assembled, and a border (with a lot of wool circles appliquéd, surrounded by embellishing stitches) added, it was time to quilt. I used a thin cotton batting (Dream Cotton Request) and a free motion stitch to secure the layers. I love how the stitching shows up on the wool.
Obviously, many of these techniques are now part of my stitching repertoire. The quilt hangs in my sewing room, providing me with constant exposure to the idea to “do more, more, more.”And I do.
Sue’s title for this quilt (and a pattern is available now) was Bird Dance.But every southern girl knows that if a woman is overdressed; has too many accessories, she is in danger of being considered a floozie.I love to see people smile when they look at my work, and this piece has generated a lot of giggles when people see the title, A Flock of Feathered Floozies.
And, there is a still at Step Back. So Floozies collapsed there for a rest.
In case you missed them, earlier posts about Step Back are here (Christmas at Step Back) and here (my quilts visit Step Back). And this earlier post has details about wool appliqué.
We headed out the door on a “Saturday ride-about”, bringing cameras and a quilt.This depot was abandoned at the moment, so we posed the quilt and snapped a few shutters.
This little quilt, Linen Baskets, is a sample I made a couple of years ago when my favorite quilt shop had a fat quarter bundle of linen fabrics.The polka dots are all linen, the white background is a Kona cotton solid.Finished, it measures 35” x 43”, a nice size to drape over a chair or hang on the wall.
I love the little baskets.They are adapted from a pattern called Big Bloomers from QuiltSoup.I added wool appliqué in the border with some beading and embellishments.
We live near Zebulon Road, but it doesn’t lead to the town of Zebulon.That fact amuses us.We have noticed many Zebulon Roads in the middle GA area which, when studying a map, do not lead to Zebulon either.So for this little quilt to get to pose on benches and doors and roof brackets of the depot in Zebulon was a fun note to add to our day.
The quilting is a quick loopy meandering trail done with cotton thread and using thin cotton batting.The backing is a bright fun Jane Sassaman design.Many people like basket quilts as much as I do, but when I take this to groups, there are always gasps of delight when they see the back of this one.
I liked the contrast of the soft quilt with the hard lines of the doors and the weathered wood of the floor boards.Jim did some of his darkroom magic on some of his shots, intermingling color and black and white.I never get tired of that!
With a fence full of flowers like these, is it any wonder that gardening and tools are in every room of my house?
I love diggin’ in the dirt this time of year. My morning walk has me counting the hostas that have raised their heads above the soil line, inspecting the buds on young trees, and even pulling a few weeds here and there. Dirt therapy has always been a good thing, but at our house we seem to be more immersed in the pleasure than some years. Perhaps because we were traveling last spring and didn’t get to enjoy newly emerging growth in our yard we are appreciating it more now. And the dogwoods and azaleas have never been prettier.
While in the sewing room today, I noticed that not only were digging implements under the needle of my sewing machine, but the design wall holding projects in progress has gardening as a theme, too.
The ongoing free motion quilting is on my version of Lisa Bonjean’s Primitive Garden. It’s wool appliqué on cotton, including some flannel and some homespuns, too.
Primitive Garden is not the first time rakes have appeared on one of my quilts. This little wall piece pictured above (Off to the Garden, 22″ x 21″) is one I quickly assembled when I bought my Bernina. I was anxious to drop the feed dogs and quilt, so the appliqué is fused. You won’t read that often here, as I prefer needle turn appliqué. But on this occasion, fuse I did. I added a cotton ball for the tail and danced with my sewing machine. This wall hanging helps us welcome spring every year.
As usual, click on any image to enlarge and see details.
Did you know that terrestrial snails love portobello mushrooms? It does make sense. I love portobello mushrooms and they have an earthy flavor that I think snails would love. But, until recently, I had never thought about what these creatures eat.
I love snail shells. We have a small collection on our kitchen windowsill. Some we’ve found (empty) in our yard, some we’ve brought home from the beach. We have a friend who’s focused much of his career on research of olive snails. These tiny snails comprise much of the diet of wading birds.
But until I discovered a treasure of a little book a few days ago, I had never thought about things I didn’t know about snails. I knew their shells possessed geometric qualities related to logarithmic spirals. But now I now that though most of those spirals are counterclockwise, some are clockwise. And, only if the spirals spin the same way can a pair of snails mate. And when they eat, the hole (such as in a leaf) is a square shape. Snails and their geometry – oh, my!
I learned all this by reading The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating by Elisabeth Tova Bailey. I found this little book at our local used book sale a couple of weeks ago. The Friends of the Library hosts an annual sale with more than 100,000 books. The prices are bargain basement level and we usually come home with some treasures.
This delightful book charmed me instantly. There’s something especially appealing about a small book. And the simple drawings of the snails intrigued me, too. The description in the overleaf reminded me of another charming little book that’s been part of our library for several decades, That Quail Robert.
The wild snail in this book doesn’t get named, but provided companionship when Ms. Bailey most needed it, and delivered lessons in observation and philosophy that we can all heed. Reading this snail’s story makes me slow down and appreciate the little things.
I’ve already been motivated to pull out the watercolors and play with them. A stitched snail in wool has a new level of respect now.
As I often do after reading a delightful book, I searched for podcasts with the author. I found a delightful conversation with Bailey and her “snail scientist” advisor Timothy Pearce. His research has included affixing thread to the back of a snail in order to track the snail’s travels. What a delightful image!
Notes:
The book is readily available in print, as an ebook or audio book. The charm of the paper, the size of the book, and the illustrations make me recommend the paper version.
The podcast I found was a broadcast from October 9, 2014 on NWP Radio.
