a quilt...

I decided I should sit down in a big comfy chair for a bit and stretch my fingers out before I started looking like the hunchback of Notre-Dame complete with claws for hands.  I've been prepping a duffel-bag full of uniforms to start the quilt. Daily uniforms, dress uniforms, removing the bits and pieces that will create a memory of a time served.  Some of that stuff was very difficult to cut through and the scissors I am using are sharp enough to slice your fingers by sliding across an unattended blade.  

I'm down to one pair of pants.  They are the bright blue of the dress uniform.  As I have been cutting and salvaging the fabric, I have been plotting and planning.  Trying to decide the best places and orders to use each color.  I will admit, this bright blue with it's very recognizable red stripe has me a bit stumped. I thought I had it figured out, all planned and ready to use. Until I realized there was only one pair and the stripe is only on the outside.  They would have needed 6ft long legs for my plan to work.  So I am back at mentally planning it out.  I will figure it out.  The stripe might end up in the piano key border that my brain keeps insisting needs to frame the whole quilt. Who knows. 

I already know the quilt will have the middle panel, bordered by a modified trip around the world, I will create some star blocks that will include his patches and emblems.  I am a bit ignorant of the proper terminology with Marine ranks and insignia, but I am sure I can do it justice. I am not sure how I am going to include the stars, I have several different ideas and I guess it will depend on what it looks like when I get to that point in the quilt.  I have most of it worked out in my brain.  Almost time to commit!

For a small moment in time.  I am sipping my ice tea, enjoying the changing colors outside the window and timing my sweet pups time out in the sunshine.  It's been so mild that they have gotten quite spoiled with lots of outside time, today is edging back into the 80's... which means less outside time than they like.  Again, Belle is my smart girl, she will bring herself inside. Beau... That boy loves the heat (not good with seizures) and has to be almost dragged into the house. 

last night at 9 pm

My plan is to have the piecing of the quilt done by Friday.  Hubs has a few appointments this week (getting ready for surgery) so those should give me the break that my body will be craving from cutting, ironing, cutting, stitching, measuring and sewing some more. I am so excited to see how this turns out.  I am feeling very blessed to have been selected to create it.  And honestly, once I have committed with the first snip of the scissors I am a bit obsessive.  If everything goes as planned, it will be on the longarm this weekend. 

I'm really doing terrible sitting here decompressing.  I have thoughts bouncing in and out, trying desperately to write them down before they shift away into something else.  My brain is truly at the dining room table, my thoughts are deeply wrapped up with this quilt. Maybe I'll be more successful writing tomorrow... 

today at 1 pm

I'm heading back to the piles of threads and fabrics... 

beginning new journeys?

Last week record breaking heat, this morning possible snow?  Mother nature is definitely having some hormonal shifts. I doubt we will get snow, but at this point nothing surprises me.  I feel like the entire world is under going some kind of change.  At least I don't feel anxious about it any longer. 

Yesterday, as I was doing my odds and ends type chores and settling back into my routine while Hubs was at work, I spent a great deal of time in the silence.  Just thinking. I've just become aware of the terms cottage core and granny core in the past few months.  I am not really up to date on many things, but these two sort of humored me. A lot! 

I guess I have been on the "cutting edge" for a really long time and simply didn't know it.  My social media is filled with people wanting to hone their granny skills.  Wanting to remember and relearn the things that have intentionally been forgotten.  I always just assumed I was born in the wrong era or that I am simply just plain strange.  I have fought hard my whole life to keep the skills that others are chasing.  Who knew?  I mean does that mean my eccentricities are back in style? Does it mean that polyester and leisure suits aren't far behind?  Goodness I hope not!  I am praying that the desire to return to reality is just that a return.  

I am finding it a touch easier to access so many of the things that I never left.  

Modest clothing, and cotton, linen and wool fabrics are just a start.  I mean they are still crazy cost prohibitive, but lets be real do we really want or need disposable fast fashion and all the stuff that fills our closets and homes?  I have clothing I bought when my son was born.  He will soon be 35, I still wear my favorite sweater a couple times a month.  When I bought that beautiful cotton sweater I almost died at the price, I still remember the slight knot in my throat as I paid $35 dollars for it.  Can you imagine the cost today?  Yet here I am still wearing it, it's been mended a few times, I've had to sharpening my skill sets to learn how to mend knitwear so that it is invisible (mostly - I wasn't that good at it in the early days), but I think $1 a year is a fair investment at this point in time. 

Meet Gertrude my 1950 301a

I smile at the questions posed on many of the sewing groups I follow.  People longing to know the best machine they can buy for the craft that they are wanting to pursue.  I feel a profound sadness, in that I used to be one of the people longing for all the technology and doodads on my machines. Feeling it would somehow make the things I created better, fancier.  It didn't.  The machines I used the most are older than my sweet Hubs, and he is almost 74.  I create quilts, home goods, doll clothing, bedding, bags, etc on machines that I can personally disassemble, repair, and rebuild.  There are no fancy stitches, they are not computerized.  They stitch.  Oh I still have my fancy machine - although it is now almost 25 years old, it's tucked away under my sewing table, I rarely pull it out anymore.  In fact, I am probably only holding on to it for nostalgia's sake, I saved a long while to purchase that machine for myself and it was the fanciest and best I had ever owned.  

My sweet 221 also 1950 - meet Mildred

I now own a total of 19 machines and only two of them are under 50 years old.  Crazy isn't it.  If you are looking to hone your granny core or cottage core skill sets, I strongly recommend buying one of the classics.  The ones that have stood the test of time and still make a strong beautiful stitch.  If you need help finding one or fixing it, let me know.  I love to share that kind of knowledge.  I do believe that I will start getting a few of them ready for new homes this year.  Trial and error has taught me which ones I am extremely partial to and which ones I feel comfortable loving and passing off to someone else to cherish.  I am also considering offering sewing classes on my beautiful classic collection.  

one I may part with after I service it

Who knew so many people were missing out on the joy of creating the items for their homes.  Removing home ec (which by the way I despised) was a huge disservice to our younger generations.  The inability to create for, provide for, and sustain your own home and family has created a void.  So many people have lost their independence in a basic way, they are easier to control, manipulate and in my opinion steal from.  

The things we spend our hard earned dollars on are not often in our best interests. They are in the best interests of the people benefitting off of our labor and our dollars. But I digress. 

I am loving watching the return to actual cooking.  There was a time that going out to dinner was a treat.  Something that felt like a reward, a pure joy.  Now it is all bland, finding amazing doesn't happen often and then dealing with the after effects of a meal that you have no idea what was actually in it... mind blowing. 

Hubs and I spent a good part of last year educating ourselves on what is actually in our food.  We both were starting to have some health problems that we wanted to nip in the bud, so to speak.  It takes us hours to grocery shop now, as we read all of the labels, searching for real food.   Each time I am thankful that I have learned how to grow and preserve our own food.  

I am thankful that I am at home and able to make a home for us.  I found a recipe that I wanted to try yesterday, it was a Curry Lentil Stew.  Hubs was definitely not sure about it.  Struggled to wrap his head around those flavors together.  I made it any how.  I mean worse case scenario was we went to the cantry and picked a different meal.  It was wonderful.  I even decided to try my hand at a high protein naan to dip. I felt my naan needed a bit more work, but Hubs felt it was delicious.  Either he was telling a tale to boost my spirits or I am being a bit too judgmental in my expectations. I feel the truth is somewhere in the middle. 

The entire meal was made from whole, natural ingredients.  There were no chemicals, no words that you need a dictionary to look them up.  Just food.  The way it was always intended to be. The thing is these things take time and energy.  Unfortunately, for most of us, when working a 40+ hour work week, that precious commodity doesn't exist. 

I don't need to learn a great many of the skills that I see all these different groups setting intentions to learn this year.  I have spent a lifetime holding on to the threads and honing my skills.  But there are many things that others have perfected that I am still pulling back on.  That I have tried, failed and moved on from.  Some of that failure was linked to the season of my life that I was in, working to much to focus, struggling to keep all the different balls in my world up in the air.  In this season, I am finding myself willing to try again. 

In my past I used to make a lot of my clothing, heck I have sewn wedding dresses, bridesmaids dress and even a flamenco gown.  I do have the basic skill set and knowledge.  It just became easier to lean into fast fashion.  Yup, guilty as charged. But in my desire to eliminate man made plastic based fabrics from my life, I am on the verge of starting to sew clothing again. To help stop the waste that we have contributed to.  

And sour dough will likely be a thing this year, as I work to eliminate the unhealthy big AG stuff they are trying to pass off as food. I usually end up starving the poor thing.  I am also going to work on expanding my knowledge of food preservation to include fermentation.  As I am relearning is vital importance to our gut health.   And eventually, I will start grinding my own grains, because the stuff they are doing to our flour is obscene. 

I was a trail blazer without ever realizing it.  I wasn't odd or trapped in the wrong era.  I was always supposed to remember and strive to continue so that I could help share it with others.  And here's the thing, I have always loved sharing my knowledge and helping others develop the skills to sustain them.  There was simply a time when few were interested. 

They are simply not impressed at all

Please to tell me... are you expanding any of those skill sets that have been gathering dust on the shelves of your mind?  Anyone a master carver?  Basket weaver?  Fabric weaver?  We might need to collaborate.  I long to learn new skills, I also long to share the ones I have.  

Well... almost med time for Beau, which means it is also time for me to start my day, so much I want to do and accomplish... 

much love, 

b

is it in the DNA?

The rain stopped somewhere in the middle of the night, all that remains is the lingering dampness and the deep dreary cloud cover. The kind that says "maybe I'll downpour, maybe I won't... I'll get back to you on it." It's going to be a slow kind of day today.  The kind of day that beckons you to curl up with a good book or maybe take a nap. A reminder to slow down, to spend time taking care of yourself. Too bad I'm not a fan of napping and I spend far too many lost hours in books and reading. Today for me is a day to sew.

I'd forgotten that I'd promised to remake Hubs' housecoat that I'd made him, I used the wrong pattern at Christmas and it was a bit on the small side.  He wants one that is longer and bigger around, so it is more like a giant blanket than a robe. I have everything I need, I simply forgot to do it.  When a project lingers longer than a week or two, I definitely need a reminder to do it.  By the time he comes home, he will have a comfy, oversized robe to snuggle up in.  Something to protect him from the chill that comes with this much rain and the lingering dampness.

dang that looks long from this angle

I'd started to cut it out yesterday, so I only had a few bits to finish this morning. I'd stopped for several reasons, mostly it was the knowledge that if I put an extension leaf in the table it would be much easier to handle. And I wasn't in the right mindset to tackle that yesterday. At all!

As I was gathering everything up to cut it out, I discovered that my pattern was tattered and needed repair, and while gently pressing and creating the missing pieces I was struggling to understand why I was so reluctant to sew. I love sewing, but my mojo has been missing for over a month now.

It hit me like a ton of bricks. The last time that I had sat down to sew, not helped the Dragon or a quick repair, was the day Beau had his breakthrough seizure. I'm pretty sure on some deep level, I was afraid of a repeat. I can get kind of hung up on things like that.

This morning, as I was gently using my hands to smooth and press the soft layers of flannel together, I found myself lost in thought. Where did this knowledge come from? Heck, where did any of the knowledge of things I seem to simply "know" how to do come from?

Is it passed down from some deep pool of familial DNA? They claim to have proven that every woman born carries the cells of their maternal ancestry. Do those cells also carry the knowledge from generation to generation? I promise you that I did not learn to sewing in Home Economics class. Oh, don't get me wrong, I was shown the basics, but I was not the type of student that had the patience to listen for long. That is still how I function. Let me dig in, don't sit and talk at me. I assure you I will have tuned out in the first 5 minutes. My brain has already started sorting the project out without you.

As I slid the pins in, it seemed like something I have always known. Now, in all fairness I have been sewing - my first love, since I was in school... so we can safely say at least 45 to 50 years (cripes that is terrifying!), but lessons are not something I ever took. I don't have the ability to focus that long.

I don't tend to make clothing any longer, although I am very capable. There was a time I made most of my clothing and my kiddos. But somewhere along the line the cost of the patterns, then the fabrics, sky rocketed. It was no longer the least expensive way to have nice clothing. I have made wedding gowns, bridesmaid dresses, heck I even got coaxed into making a flamenco ball gown once. True fact - I despise working with boning and taffeta fabric. One of my favorite work "suits" from decades ago was made out of a beautiful navy wool. I wore it forever.

Again, as the prices soared and my spare time decreased, I fell into the habit of buying today's disposable clothing. Although, I am that person that keeps things for years and years. I have sweaters older than my children. I will mend and alter something until it barely resembles it's original self.

So lets go back to my original question, where does that almost innate knowledge come from? Are we all born remembering bits and pieces from the past? Do we each receive our own special mix of past knowledge that we are then given free will to do with as we please? Is that why I am drawn to creating? I use so many mediums, and I am never content to stay in one lane. Even now I am fighting an overwhelming (and I believe soon to be lost) battle to build a frame to make rugs out of scraps. Every time I turn around there is another pull to do this.

It doesn't mean I am giving up any of my other passions, just adding to the mix.

Do I have a pool of genes that are causing me to be driven to be self-sufficient? Is that why I do the things I do? Would it be quicker and easier to pick things up at the store. Yup. Of course it would. But where is the satisfaction in that? I don't want to be all the same. I don't want to trust others that my food is safe. I don't want to lose the skills that seem to always be right there when I need them.

I remember the sweet woman that taught me at the farmers market to use a drop spindle. I remember hearing her tell me that I must have been born with the skill as I was a natural. I was surprised at how easily it came to me. I'd always been drawn to it, but had never even attempted it. And there she was, offering to show everyone interested how to use it, how to create with it, right in my path as I was browsing for fresh vegetables. I left with a new spindle and roving, forgetting the veggies altogether.

I have friends and family that are incredible hunters, fishermen/women, their gardens are incredible, they have awesome skills with mechanical things, builders, medicinal, some are naturals with animals, amazing with numbers and math, etc... are those skills that they inherited along the way?

When I was in school I could not have cared less about being there. It wasn't my thing. I wasn't even very social, my "group" of friends was small and most I have long since lost touch with. My mind was a million miles away, except in history or art based classes (those always held my attention) at least until a teacher spent far too much time explaining rules and far too little time doing. If I started doodling, it was a great indication that I had tuned out. I was also that kid that never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. Lord almighty more than a few teachers and counselors would make me crazy asking that question.

Me. That is what I wanted to be. Simply me. The person that now, at almost 60, I have become. The person that is free to follow the dozens of ideas that pop into my head on a daily basis. The woman that sees something beautiful and wants to dive in and experiment with the process. The person that has tons of knowledge without understanding the root of it, simply dying to try it all, immediately.

I don't know if I will ever know where the knowledge, ideas and drive comes from, but I am so thankful to possess it. To have been gifted with these treasures.

Thanks for walking in my crazy, random thoughts and questions. I may never be a master at anything I do, but I am so thankful for the journey and opportunity to explore them all. Aren't you glad you aren't my sweet Hubs? The man that feeds my insatiable quest to learn, do and create? He deserves a medal!

my co-conspirator in all I do!

Time to sew, he also needs a nice cozy, custom made robe....

love and peace, b

Wondering why...

I can't believe how fast time seems to be flying by.  We are already moving into the middle of July and yet it seems like I just wrote yesterday. I have been an active traditional homemaker now for over 3 years, again... how? Where is time flying off too?

Yesterday I was busy putting up the last of the 72 dozen ears of corn that Hubs loves so much.  As I stood at the sink scrubbing the silks from each ear, I found myself thinking, nothing new there.  I was questioning why I do some of the things that I do each day.  When I could easily go to the store and sit in my car and wait for someone to bring out my order and load my trunk.  Why would I spend hours shucking, cleaning, scraping and canning corn? 

Why would I do half of it?  Why wouldn't I take the easier route?  Why not just go back to work at a job where I will be taxed to bits only to be taxed on everything I purchase and then taxed again at the end of the year when all government agencies decide they haven't gotten enough of my hard earned dollars?

Why would I spend hours a day taking care of my family?  Wasn't it somewhere in the 50's or 60's that they started the marketing campaign about better living through chemicals?  Wasn't that supposed to make lives easier?  At least that is what the marketing campaign said.

Years ago I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease, shortly after a tick decided I tasted good and shared Lyme disease with me.  I remember the anxiety I felt when we went to pick up our medical records a short while later, because we were moving back to Germany and being told they were being stored in the environment hazard area.  My mind was completely blown away.  I was stunned beyond thought and reason.  I was too sick at the time to deeply question it all as I went to a different part of the hospital to gather my records, separate from my families. 

For literally years I struggled with life.  I lived in pain, my mind was often foggy and my memory was shot.  I have so much regret surrounding those times.  I can't unwind the clock, I can't go backwards in time, but I can go forward. And in moving forward for the most part I have been healed, oh it's still technically there, but I no longer suffer from it. 

Somewhere over the past two decades things started to come together.  I learned, I studied, I started to understand a lot of things that I hadn't realized.  

Slowly we've removed many extra chemicals from our lives.  When you start to read, you start to learn.  

Our skin is our largest organ, it absorbs everything we put on it. It took time, I had to learn how to make soap, I'm still working on shampoo (that stuff can give you a headache) but for now I have sourced some that is chemical free.  We use very little, if any, commercial topical creams, lotions or medications.  It's amazing when you start looking into herbs, natural oils and tinctures the benefits to your entire body.  If you haven't looked into castor oil or frankincense for your external needs I strongly suggest those two as an incredible starting point. 

When you look at the things you consume you might become a bit more anxious and unsettled. How many people really read the ingredient lists when they are gathering their groceries and snacks?

After learning about the external influences, I might have become hooked on taking a deeper dive into herbal remedies, ya know... the old ways.  The things we don't learn in school are far greater than the things we do learn.  I can 100% assure you I have never in my adult life ever used algebraic formulas, yet everyday I cook meals for my family, use basic math as I work out our budget, I work in my garden, I sew, I make clothing and household items.  

As I am staring down the final year of my 50's, I realize I use very little of what I learned in school.  It carries very little value in the real world.  Most of it amply prepared me to be a drone in the tax generating wheel, very little of it prepared me for life. Sadly it is worse now.  Kids are graduating high school completely unprepared to go out into the world, to have meaningful lives, to be able to explore, dream, develop businesses and think.  They are woefully unprepared. 

I think back on school, home economics in particular.  And I realize that I learned very little of the skill sets I use today in those classes.  In the cooking sections I learned how to place an order for the ingredients I would need, I learned how to assemble those ingredients into a meal and the absolute importance of making sure there wasn't a crumb left on the floor after class (my instructor would lose her mind if things weren't meticulous for the next student). Oddly, it never taught me to buy groceries in the real world, to stretch a budget to cover whatever might happen, to put up food so I wasn't reliant on the grocery store. I learned to make noodles from scratch in one class, but never how to dry them for storage.  I was never taught to plant a seed to enable me to grow my own food.  In fact besides cleaning the floor properly, insuring that I pleased the fussy teacher to get a good grade, using a rolling pin to roll out noodles (and promptly rubbing all the skin off the side of my thumb - super painful FYI), and the incredible field trips in my international cooking class, I remember very little useful information from those classes.  

one of the recent quilts... I've improved

my newest treasure a 1953 301A - as soon as I tune
it up... I will be making a quilt!

If we bounce into the sewing part of those classes... well I do remember how to lay out a pattern and even follow a pattern.  I also learned (on my own) that it's important to look twice at the way it will end up once assembled.  That poor stuffed turtle lived forever with his head on upside down.  The teacher never even caught it while checking my work.  Oh well. 

for a friends baby...

For my great nephew

Beau approves... a customers quilt

I also took wood shop as a teen, I still have the shadow box I built it is a cherished possession, that I will probably never part with.  Hubs still has the napkin holder he made years earlier.  Looking at his vs mine, that decade or so of instruction time difference really shows.  His is creatively cut out with wood burned features.  Mine was simple, the construction was very basic and lacked the processes that would have made it sturdy and stable for all these decades.  I have spent much time over the years putting it back together so that it would last. 

Why do I do the things that fill my days?  Is it because I am some crazy prepper, no.  Although I could see where folks would assume that.  Is it because of fear?  Maybe to a degree, but not in the way one would assume.  I'm not afraid of the future, God has that, I am afraid of the skills being forever lost.  

Mostly, it's because I don't believe the world we live in today is sustainable.  Not in a sense of we will run out of this or that, not really.  Not that I don't believe there will be shortages, I 100% believe there will be.  I believe that food, fuels, medications, etc will be in short supply.  Because we have been programmed to believe that we need all of the things that we can buy (and be taxed on) as the only way we can survive in this world. Everything must be something someone can make a profit off of, look around, pay attention.

I almost cried this morning, drinking my cup of coffee and scrolling through social media.  I came upon one of my canning and sustainability groups, the woman was sharing a video she made that morning. It showed miles of cars waiting to buy food at a fast food restaurant in Houston.  Much of the city is still without power after Beryl came through. Miles of cars idling in line waiting for a burger and fries.  Her point was that it has been two days and folks are waiting in line for junk food.  Her question was far more basic, didn't they have food at home in their fridge or freezer waiting to be cooked and/or consumed?  Wasn't it at risk of going bad? 

Why?  This is one of my major reasons why.  I don't want to be in the group that is lost when the things we've been conditioned to accept for our basic needs is no longer able to provide them.  I don't want to be the one that cannot provide for my family and loved ones. The one that has no idea how to cook something because all the recipes were online and we've lost power or internet and I'm lost. Or because I don't know how to cook in anyway except with my electric stove (mine isn't electric for the record). 

I don't want to be a slave to a broken and failing system.  I don't want to be the person begging the government to help me survive, in case you haven't noticed it truly is a form of slavery, and one that has been used forever.  Slavery doesn't have to involve physical chains and shackles, mental ones are far stronger and leave less physical proof. 

a full 20 hours after the storm

the next day...

At the end of May we were hit with a terrible hail storm.  The damage is incredible, and most everyone in our mile or so wide stretch of the storms path are still dealing with the aftermath.  Homes are damaged, windows were shattered, cars were beat up (many to the point of being totaled - our daughter had two of theirs totaled), garden's and landscaping destroyed.  I will admit that losing most of my garden and landscaping crushed my heart.  The rest can be repaired, but to lose those... I was so heartbroken. 

It's just over a month later, the physical stuff is slowly being repaired.  My garden looks very different than I planned it.  This year, I am letting some things go to seed for future gardens, as most of the damaged plants continued to put out seeds and I am delighting in that process.  Of the 5 tomato plants 2 survived, barely, and are covered in tiny tomatoes.  Thankfully I was behind in planting because of cicadagedon.

Even the flowers were damaged, but are struggling back to life. 

The tiny okra, bush cucumber, zucchini, sweet potatoes and acorn squash are thriving despite the damage they decided they were strong enough to weather that storm.  So many other plants were destroyed, there are no peas this year and the beautiful lettuce was turned to mush.  The Swiss chard had a few tiny bits still living so I left them be, they rewarded me with the best growth ever.  The rest of the boxes are now planted with assorted beans to dry and more okra.  Every year I say I wish I had been able to plant more of those, yet never do.  

When mother nature hands you lemons, you can chose to cry or make lemonade. 

I don't want to be one of those that can't think outside the box.  This year I have started foraging mullein, I have been using dandelion and I know where to forage massive amounts of elderberry this summer.  I have learned so much that was never programmed into us in school.  Learning that the things we were programmed to believe were useless weeds and needed to be eradicated aren't useless or weeds at all. 

I pray that because I refuse to forget the old ways that I will never been one of those sitting in a car waiting for something to be given to me.  I am sharing those skills with my grands, I will share my knowledge and skills with anyone that wants to learn.  I want to be friends with people that can teach me new old skills. I want to be a part of that community.  I want to spend my days, hours and skills helping those around me that want to help themselves.  That want to be a strong enough person to face the storm and come out in one piece.  Maybe a bit tired and worn, but strong and self-sufficient. 

You knew the pups would show up...

It's time to head to the sewing room.  It's been a busy couple of weeks and I am running a bit behind.  

Many prayers and much love!  And cheers to the keepers of the old ways... you are my tribe!

creative soul work...

Are you a creative person?  Have you experienced the natural high you get when you are deep into a project of any type, when it's all coming together.  When the mental road blocks disappear and you can just dig in? I am that person.  I have so many "hobbies" that I never truly get bored or feel at completely loose ends.  The biggest challenge I often face is what to work on.  

I am so thankful for the skills that I have acquired in this lifetime. I have had very little formal training in any of my creative outlets.  The most I've had was probably in spinning.  Andrea was the name of the wonderful woman that placed that first drop spindle in my hands and encouraged me to try it.  I was hooked instantly, it felt familiar even though I had never tried it before.  She helped me work on my tension and spin. From there I was off and running. 

I often find myself getting stuck as I work through a project in my mind, getting ready to start and complete a project.  For me it is crazy important to be able to completely visualize what I am going to do before I start. I have been in various stages of working on a double sided quilt.  My brain was stuck, it is critical that both sides are the same size in order to create this quilt and it literally had me frozen.  All the shirts were prepped, I just couldn't make myself cut into the tops until I could visualize.  I also had to be able to stand, bend and sit for a few hours at a time in a desk chair.  I was nervous. 

I don't know what connected the other day, I don't know what piece finally fell into place.  But by tonight that quilt will be ready to go on the longarm frame.  I was struggling with ideas on binding, but that popped into my brain the other night also. I am excited!  I didn't sleep well that night as my brain was in high speed, my body was loving life and I was lost in the whirr of my dear old Pfaff.  T-shirt quilts require a bit more power and strength than my sweet little featherweights.  

By the time I had laid out the second side, it was hours past my normal bedtime and my eyes were getting blurry.  Honestly, if my eyes hadn't been so tired, I have a feeling I would have made a cup of coffee and kept on going.  I love making quilts, especially t-shirt quilts, because of what they will mean to the person that I am making it for.  I am really in love with this one, although I probably say that about all of them.  

Years of being a Tetris fan has definitely paid off when making the bits go together into a balanced and beautiful finished quilt. 

baby alpaca yarn... so soft!

I am currently doing a few things at once (yes, I know that sums me up) and my little travel bag was packed beside me to take with me yesterday.  Hubs had to work down south and I was catching a ride.  While he is working, I took a nice long walk at one of my favorite places around!  I couldn't wait, I don't often get to leave the neighborhood during the day and I was ready for a bit of adventure.  It's a pretty good amount of drive time about 90 minutes.  I figured I would have most if not all of a hat made, I was right, I have 6 rows left, maybe another 20 minutes or so.  

Creating can also come in the joy of photography - not that I am very good at it - but it captures beautiful moments in time.  I managed 3 hikes during the course of the day, granted none of them were longer than a mile, I can't really handle longer than that at a time, but all together, three miles happened.  It was wonderful!

If everything goes according to plan by next week I will be making some soaps, they need four to six weeks of cure time.  Not sure if I am going to give them for the holiday's or not.  Or if I am just going to keep stocking up for myself and my "shop".  I am feeling ready to start seriously exploring this new path I am on.  

In fact I finally feel like I am healed enough to completely dive into my "work" again.  I overcame some serious mental and physical blocks as I worked on the quilt.  I was afraid.  I lay my quilts on the floor to design them, so that I can get the correct perspective and be sure that I enjoy the flow of the colors and designs.  As I am still not able to get down on the floor and kneeling may forever be a thing of the past, I had to wrap my head around new ways to approach it all. Overcoming those mental and physical obstacles was huge for me. 

Creativity for me is where I lose myself and find my soul.  I need to be creating.  But it is super important to me that what I create has a physical value, it is practical and useful.  I find the greatest joy comes from seeing someone using the things I have created for them.  

The burnt up candle, the half a bar of soap on the side of the sink.  The blankets being snuggled in, cozy socks to warm your toes, you get the idea.  

My creativity even expands to cooking.  I can get lost in the alchemy of cooking.  Adding a bit of this and a touch of that. My friend that I have been cooking for showed up at my house the other day with a fabulous collection of mason jars for me.  All different sizes.  I was stunned.  I'm not cooking for him for that reason.  Although I am so thankful for this new collection.  One can never have too many mason jars. 

I don't know what today holds, what promises are laid out before me.  I am torn, sweet Hubs says we can do whatever I want and there are tons of things going on that I wouldn't mind taking in, but the other side of my brain is feeling like I don't want to spend money, I don't feel confident and strong enough to go rock digging, I simply want to stay closer to home.  I want to finish getting the quilt on the longarm, clean up the front garden, tidy up around the house, cook some yummy meals for us and maybe go for a hike close to home. Hubs has offered to take me back to Meramec to hike, or to Cadet to go to the outdoor craft show (for the record it's 30 degrees outside and a fire seems a bit more inviting), honestly he's offered to do whatever I would like.  

I think I am going to make some cinnamon roll muffins, have a fire in the fireplace and slowly decide to join this day.  After I do that, well then who knows what adventure will wait for us... It just feels like a slow day. 

Tomorrow can be for adventures...

patience...

I don't know about you, but patience is a virtue that I am often trying to practice, and more often that not having to remind myself that I have lost. 

On Sunday both Hubs and I were up to our elbow working on vintage sewing machines. We oiled and cleaned my beautiful Singer 99K - to forever moving forward to be called Dorothy (she's strong, dependable and comes across as a bit determined).  We took it step by step, stripping her down to the skeleton. We cleaned, oiled, and checked every bit of her.  We learned how to disassemble the light case and clean that (gross), we didn't need to replace the light, although Hubs really wants me to put a LED bulb in.  I am okay with the one she has. 

What a process!  That is truly all I can say about it.  All together it took us about 4 hours.  Not bad considering we had no idea what we were doing and were working alongside the very nice English fellow on YouTube. 

Having accomplished the work on Dorothy, we started in on my beautiful Featherweight.  She's a bit older than Dorothy being a 1950 to Dorothy's 1956.  And I couldn't wait to get started.  And started to take her apart.

Boy oh boy... what an experience.  The last person to clean and oil/lube her had tightened the screw down on the spool pin cover plate so much they stripped it.  We were not sure we would get it out it was so badly damaged. Hubs definitely exercised patience with that one, and he gets total props for doing so.  That was about the time we realized how badly damaged the belt was. When testing her we also discovered that the wires in her power cord were beyond damaged (replacement arrived yesterday) and the light burned out as soon as we turned it on (replacement ordered). We bought a belt (several sites insisted it would work - yep - not great - new correct belt also arrived yesterday). 

She was super clean, but for some reason she simply wouldn't sew correctly. I knew it was a simple project, but after working on the truck in the early morning, spending hours lost in the work on Dorothy, I was overly worn out.  Still hadn't packed for my upcoming vacation and my temper was getting short. 

My sweet little Featherweight had earned her name... She will forever be known as Sophia (she older, sassy, cranky and wants things her way).  I had to walk away from working on her.  My temper was starting to flare, mainly because I knew it was something super simple and my patience was gone.  I no longer had the ability to reason it through.  I opened an instructional video from the featherweight store, but didn't watch it.  Hubs was watching one of his BC shows (you know - before color) and I had a lot to get ready before the coming adventure began. 

The youngest grand daughter and I decided we were going to Arkansas to hang out with family this week. I'm pretty sure she was only a year old the last time we'd done it.  And she is pretty opinionated, not sure where she gets that from... 

I wasn't sure she was still going to agree to our trip, as she's changed her mind several times in the past.  So I will admit to being over the moon when not only didn't she change it, but was excited and couldn't wait!

Around lunchtime on Monday she and I loaded into my little beetle and headed south.  Full of energy, excitement and expectations! By the time we hit just north of Farmington my little travel companion had fallen asleep.  I was a bit glad, as it would make the trip quicker for her.  And a lot nervous, what if she wouldn't sleep that night? I shouldn't have worried. 

When she woke from her little nap we had just stopped across the state line to stretch our legs and take a break.  Six hours is too long to simply sit. Chatting with her I missed our turn and took us on a short detour that added about 20 minutes to our trip, not a problem we found wild turkey's and huge guineas.  We arrived just in time to relax, eat a bit and enjoy the pups, and visit with Aunt T and Uncle J.  A few short hours and some craft time later day one was over and bedtime arrived - at her request even!

Over the next few days we painted, played with plaster, made more play dough treasure chests than I could count (bad play dough boy kept breaking them), we giggled and laughed, we swam in pools for hours on end (I might have inhaled most of both of them thanks to my splash baby) we talked, we explored, we visited and enjoyed time with everyone and their critters (she is definitely an animal person). 

While we were in Arkansas my brother in law fed into my sewing machine habit, by finding one from 1911 (that baby is going to need some work!!!) that my mom bought me for my birthday present and a Mercury machine from 1953 (It's a singer clone made for Morse - I might have a sweet spot for Morse machines as that is what I learned to sew on). Neither of them have a name yet, but I have three machines sitting in the garage waiting for attention.  I am fairly certain I need to stop now.  Goodness have I managed to acquire a few of them rather quickly. The two that came home with us were a steal.  Mom actually paid more than I did, her gift was $35 mine was $30 and I know mine's history and story. The Singer is a 66 Red-eye.  She is going to need a LOT of work.  She runs, but she is missing a few parts and it might have been 1925 the last time she was cleaned up. It will be my greatest undertaking so I am saving that one for last. 

I was super proud of my baby girl.  She was in a strange place, traveling for the first time she could remember with Grandma alone and only had two meltdowns.  Once because I woke her up trying to carry her back to Great Grandma's house when she was so exhausted, to watch her stop mid-meltdown and explain her feelings is unreal, to watch her gather herself together once the shoes grandma forgot to grab show up (thanks Aunt T) and tell me what she needs to feel safe and loved is so inspiring. And once because she was hangry and being four couldn't quite figure it out.  I melted so hard when she wrapped her little arms around me and apologized for being so angry.  She said "I'm sorry grandma, I was so hangry! Thank you for not being mad at me!" OMG - what grandma wouldn't melt! 

curing the hangries...

She taught me so much about patience and stepping back to observe things this week. It is often hard to believe this sweet princess is only 4 years old.  She is wise and articulate far beyond her years.  She will question until she understands and even when she gets frustrated because she isn't understanding your explanation she will ask it a different way until she does. She is tall for her age, brought into sharp focus standing next to her cousin that is a day older than her and barely up to her shoulders.  When you are around her for even a few moments you quickly forget that she is simply a small child (she insists she's a full grown child) that is still experiencing the world.  Those sparkling eyes, the crazy curls, and those dimples... well if you don't melt you might not be human. 

one day difference

By the time we returned home yesterday we were both weary - what a drive.  About halfway home when she woke up from her nap she softly thanked me.  A little 4 year old thanked me for taking her to see her friends in Arkansas.  Good thing she couldn't see the tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I have learned not to show weakness. 

My momma and me ❤

I want to find something for her older sister and I to do.  Something special just for her.  I miss those trips too! At least I know that won't involve the one hundred mile version of Baby Shark.  Who knew?

This morning after a good nights rest and fresh eyes and perspective it took a 14 minute video for all of the problems with my sweet little Featherweight to make sense.  Loosen a few screws (yes mine are already loose - but not Sophia's) pop the finger in where it was supposed to be and install the new belt and it was off to the races.  I am waiting until the silly screw arrives to sew with her, she needs sleeve to protect the bed extension, so that might be the first thing I make with her. 

Patience is truly a virtue.  And sometimes stepping away and doing other things in life, like enjoying time with family will help clear your mental vision. 

Well the house looks like a sewing machine junk yard and I am behind on my chores from playing too much.  Time to get back in the flow of things!