The Winter’s Quilt Top is Finished
This is going to be a collection of photos as this winter’s quilt top project is ready to become a quilt in time to come.
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Noreen
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Noreen
Art Does Imitate Life
Sometimes my will is stronger than my physical strength. As much as I have enjoyed working on this artistic quilt, I just could no longer herd this huge amount of fabric around to get the last border on the quilt. My titanium shoulders allowed me to know that I would feel more than just weary if I insisted on continuing. Just as in life, sometimes you just have to know when to stop and let things lay for a time, or there is going to be irrevocable repercussions. Art does imitate life.
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Noreen
I just spent three very satisfying and fulfilling hours. I have a very enthusiastic beginner quilter that came seeking help and advice. It is gratifying to see someone becoming invested into piecing fabric to make art. Dennis’ nephew, Brett, is 52 and owns his own concrete business. Somewhere the winter hours beckoned him to put many of the same calculating skills that it takes to read blueprints and put bids together for concrete projects into a winter pass time of quilting.
Starting out with his sisters old sewing machine, he did invest in an economical new machine with comments that it made a lot of difference in the basic stitching.
Brett has watched many YouTube videos on techniques of quilting. He is now at a point where his first quilt fashioned from the pattern “Attic Windows” is ready to be put on a quilt frame. When I found out that he built stands from which the quilt frame will hang, I had to admit, he was quite serious. Today he picked out embroidery floss with which to tie the quilt and got a few pointers on what will take place after the tying is done. I think he has my phone number on speed dial. Brett knew he wanted a hobby before he got much older and this seemed to fit him. I will say his alignment of pieces of fabric to build the quilt is spot on considering the size of his hands and fingers.
Amazing and delightful to see the light bulb go on when things fall into place.
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Noreen
Dennis made a great tuna and English pea hotdish so I could do our taxes. Let’s here it for TaxAct. I had a bit of self-imposed glitch that righted itself after a bit. Dennis reflected after I stated the amount that was needed to be submitted: “But the television ads say ‘zero is still zero’, ya right.”
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Noreen
Fresh Air Can’t Hurt
Dennis has gone to see his friend recovering from a bad fall on the ice. I have taken the opportunity to open up both ends of the house for some fresh air. Fresh air can’t hurt after a spell of cold temps, and it sure can’t hurt keeping me on the straight and narrow with my scrappy projects in my sewing studio.
I have been in the habit of making gifts for people for decades. I find it relaxing and allowing myself to think about each person who will be on the receiving end of the gift. That is how I had so many scraps that ended up being finished one inch squares to put together in various patterns.
Having a sewing studio is not foreign to me. When Carrie was just a year old, my Dad and my Mom staked Orlin and me to a 160 acre farm not far from where my parents lived. I was very familiar with the farm and the home, as I had spent many hours in that home and on the dooryard playing with my District 34 classmate, Marith Kurth, whose parents owned the farm. It was a lovely story and a quarter, three bedroom home with a dry, usable basement.
We did enjoy and make use of every square inch of that home. It is the first home that Kevin ever knew. It didn’t take much prodding from Carrie to teach Kevin how to navigate the steps either going up or down or out. Without the basement, that we did finish out for a playroom and a television room, some would have said it was a small home. Marith and her brother’s family found it suitable long past the time that grandchildren visited.
One of the basement storage areas, Orlin converted into a sewing room. There was a handy closet on the west end that was partitioned off for a canning cellar on the south end and a sewing storage area on north end. It was handy as all get-out. The kids were close by, the laundry was close by and the half bathroom didn’t hurt either. In time, the sewing room had enough room in it for a 4-harness rug loom to be added. Sewing studios have been a part of me for over fifty years.
Back to the one inch squares. In today’s world, I would not have made anything from which these scraps evolved. I am
onto larger pieces of fabric. Fifteen or sixteen years ago, I did make gifts for the gals who worked for me in the courthouse. Once I got into the swing of all things being an inch, my sister-in-laws each received one, as well as my mom, my daughter, and a niece, Erin. Wouldn’t you know it? I had scraps left.
Today, with the fresh air wafting through the home, it was time to get serious and put scraps to use once and for all. I never throw very much away if I can envision something coming out of the depths of a storage box. Several years ago, when granddaughter Megan was going to receive her first American Girl Doll, daddy Jeremy emailed me. He was handcrafting a doll bed and wanted to know if I could make the bedding, complete with a quilt for it. No problem. At that time, out came the one inch square happy scraps. Now today, the batting and backing has been determined as well as the bindings being cut. Dennis already had marveled over the potholders that were whipped out earlier from quilt squares that had not made the cut. He knew I would not back down until this group of projects would be finished. It is fun to have an item here or there for an unsuspecting visitor to our home. Happy scrapper quilter sucking in fresh air: happy home. -
Noreen
While folding some laundry from the stackable unit in the bathroom, I glanced out the bathroom window out towards the patio and porch. What to my wandering eyes did I see? My rocking chair in the porch was going full bore. I had to really watch to see what was driving the motion. It wasn’t what . . . it was who. Fuzzy and Harriet were wrestling on the cushion. It was a toss up as to which one of the two would be close to being pushed off before there would be a lunge to get back on top. Oh, for the simplistic life here on Stauffer Avenue.
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Noreen
What? Who Me?
Wheel of fortune was not to be enjoyed last night. At 6:30, I got a phone call, all the way from the garage porch. “Grammie, I lost a cat.” We live just feet from Stauffer Avenue and Dennis always allows the cats to go out for one last time each day before the lights go out for the night. I had no idea what I would be in for when I went out.
All the cats were accounted for, except Harriet. From a small kitten, Harriet would sit in the open doorways and look outside, but chose to stay indoors. Harriet was gone. As soon as Dennis hits the garage porch, the first one to greet him would be Harriet. It was possible she had ventured outside and Dennis hadn’t noticed it, but that would be rare. Dennis had already been looking for some time in the connected garages to the porch. The stepladder had been used and Dennis checked all the pillow boxes up on the rafters where everyone had a spot to sleep. He had checked under everything that might have been harboring her and in every container and pail, including the Koi tank. Had Harriet made a bad jump and gotten hit by one of the ceiling fans and lay injured somewhere?
We called and called and the five other cat were hovering around most likely wondering what all the commotion was about. I had brought out a flashlight and we checked each and every corner again, as well as the wheel wells of the vehicles. Everyone of the cats love treats and I hoped Harriet wouldn’t want to miss out. The treats are kept behind closed doors of the storage buffet as Snuggles is the first one to hunt until he finds the bag and then proceeds to chew through until he gets his fair share. I took the bag out and closed the door as Dennis decided an empty ice cream pail would make a better storage container. I rattled the bag and everyone came out to enjoy them, but not Harriet. I walked out on the patio and checked the Stauffer Avenue. No Harriet. I knew Dennis was not ready to give up, but we had nothing to do but hope that her little face would soon be seen on the outside of the patio door, wanting in. I went back inside and every once in awhile I would look out the bathroom window as Dennis had all the outdoor patio lights on, just like Motel 6, “keeping the lights on.”
Harriet, looking all innocent.
In time, I got a second phone call from Dennis. Harriet was lost no more. Dennis had started to hear a noise, much like a meow but couldn’t place where it was coming from. All at once one of the doors of the storage buffet came open and out bounced Harriet. Dennis said she made her rounds as if she wanted to make sure she had not missed anything. The storage buffet had not been opened since Saturday as treats are not given out everyday. When I had gotten the treats out, I tugged, and as usual the doors stuck. We checked, there was no way Harriet got in the storage buffet from the bottom or back. Talk about a puzzle. If we didn’t know better, one would think the cats had been playing hide-n-seek. We will never know.
Dennis came in for the night feeling much relieved and I did dream about cats during my night’s slumber. Darn kids.
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Noreen
There are no Guarantees
Even if there were guarantees in life, God has given each one of us free wills. On any given day, our will can take us to a good place or one that is not so good.
When Dennis and I first met over a cup of coffee at DeToy’s Family restaurant, neither of one of us had any awareness of the other. Both of us living in the same small community and both of us having a child in the same grade at the public school and having attended the graduation of our children.
Our life is full of smiles each and every day mixed with a fair amount of hugs for each other when a memory slides down our cheeks.
Here Dennis and I are after celebrating a 20th wedding anniversary in 2015, which both of us had totally forgotten to celebrate if not for my brother and sister-in-law’s greeting card that came in the mail. We can attest to the fact that time flies when you are having fun, or experiencing life to the fullest each and every day. As often happens, this noon after having a light lunch of toast, we reminisced over events, family and what may lay ahead. With us having seven children in a blended family and now having six great grandchildren from Dennis’ grandchildren, there is enough material for many, many luncheons.
There are no guarantees, but Dennis and I feel we have hit the jackpot right here on Stauffer Avenue.
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Noreen
It’s a very mellow type of day. True to my intent, the potholders got stitched up. There were an additional eight blocks of a log cabin pattern that I am puzzling over. Dennis came down into the sewing studio for a bit and we enjoyed a snack of crackers and some chit chat. We both agreed we had no reason to shop out of town for anything this week. Contentment reigns on Stauffer Avenue.
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Noreen
It May be About Passion
Last week I went to pick up a few items in Shopko, and I ran into a gal that I had worked with in the courthouse. LuAnn mentioned she had five more years to go before she could retire. Her first question of me in the conversation was in regard to how I was managing with the long winter? It took me a bit before I realized the time span from fall to now, in February, hadn’t been a concern for me. LuAnn went on to say she had better begin thinking of a hobby, as the last time the roads were bad and she had to spend the weekend at home and it was not easy for her.
I don’t think I ever thought of my love of threads and fabric as a hobby. It came about as second nature as my mom, Lena, had us girls using the treadle sewing machine as soon as we could reach the treadle. There was hemming and seaming and the all important carpet rags that needed to be done. Feed sacks were turned into pajamas and aprons. The better feed sacks were saved in multiples for Mom’s house dresses. I think Dad made it quite clear that he was in favor of the blue chambray work shirts with all the necessary pockets
As Carrie and Kevin came along, there was no shortage of clothing that could be sewn with little expenditure. I think I may have overdone it when I did do a shirt and pants combo for Kevin and embroidered on the shirt and pants. Of all the things that Kevin has taken home from my attic, that set of clothing still remains here. Hmm. For Carrie, all the ruffles and pleats that we could muster were welcomed. Now the cost of a paper pattern is over $10.00 per pattern. The real kicker is that the knit and stretch in all clothing is not all that easy to sew. The seams need to be serged, meaning a final treatment to the edge of the seam to control fraying and unraveling.
I am at a point in my life that sewing is a passion and an outlet for creativity. Nothing gets me going more than a challenge. The larger project I have been working on is at a standstill for lack of several yards of fabric to coordinate the final finish. With that being the case, I dug into my scrap box. 
I am determined to lighten that load. Kersten and Kevin took a huge amount of scraps off of my hands in the form of a king sized scrappy quilt. I found some extra quilt blocks that were not needed in a previous quilt and I have decided that several potholders could be made out of them. I would not ordinarily put that much work into a potholder, but I just am not one to throw items out without trying to re-purpose them first. Actually, the background wallpaper of my blog is from the print of a quilt that these potholders will be springing from.I did go outside and push off the snow from the driveway to clear my head, and I am now prepared to get after this fill-in project. Every once in awhile when Dennis wanders down into the sewing studio, he marvels at what I save in regard to a scrap. Well . . . I have a pile that would make three inch blocks, another that would make five inch blocks, and also a pile that would work for the old time favorite: the postage stamp pattern. Rightfully called that for . . . well, you get it. The quest to fulfill a challenge is a passion.
I do have time this afternoon to work a bit longer down here in the sewing studio, as there is a pork roast with carrots roasting away, filling the house with oh such wonderful aromas. Dennis is getting caught up after a great weekend of the trade show and is looking forward to a good home cooked meal.
