ordered chaos

from Block Party

So the block I made for September? This is an approximation of how the finished quilt will look. The idea and instructions for this quilt come from Block Party - The Modern Quilting Bee: The Journey of 12 Women, 1 Blog, & 12 Improvisational Projects. Isn't it amazing? This and the other 11 quilting projects in the book strike me as ordered chaos.

I get tired just thinking of trying to create a quilt like that by myself. Randomness and disorder are not easily contrived. Consider the numerous online tutorials for "messy hairdos" of one kind or another. Or how much time and planning it might take a teenager finding their own style to put together a mismatched outfit. Apparently mismatched socks are all the rage and actually being sold - my sock-eating dryer saves me money in that sense (though Allyson, your kids seem to be trendsetters). But take quilt blocks from 12 different people following some general guidelines and, voilà! There is your ordered randomness.

Although for most of my life I've thought of myself as someone who religiously follows instructions, patterns, or recipes, I have recently become enchanted with the idea of creating, pattern/recipe-free. Sometimes I go a bit overboard and end up with an unwearable item or an inedible meal (just ask my husband). But this quilt block was such fun to work on since there really was no recipe for success. I found the process quite liberating.

into october

I unboxed all the quart jars this week. For an entire year they sat huddled in a corner of the basement, empty and (I'm quite sure) thoroughly depressed. A whole year without homemade jam or applesauce; months and months without bottled peaches. I ask you, what is a box of jars without peaches? Oh, how I missed those peaches last winter.

So I unboxed the jars on wednesday and hauled the girls to the home of a friend-of-a-friend. Her apple trees were being cut down, and she was looking for a loving home to send the year's harvest. For the first time in my life, I picked apples at a stoop rather than a stretch. But considering I had three young girls along for the picking, ground level access was a decided boon. Less romantic, to be sure, but much more effective.

All day thursday I made applesauce (with my "helpful" little boy reaching for the knife at every turn -- how does he always know just where the knife is when he can't see onto the counter?!?). Friday I passed and then turned back to a farm stand selling local peaches and tomatoes, and just like that a busy saturday became much busier. Tomato sauce, bottled peaches, apple butter, and peach jam, all in the name of a tasty winter.

Saturday evening our round of fall birthday celebrations belatedly began, complete with requisite piñata in the neighborhood tree.

Happy birthday my boys. Consider the peaches an extra gift.

thoroughly modern

I feel like I've just been picked to be on the cool kid's team at school. I've been coveting the chance to be in a modern quilting bee ever since I saw this and this (aren't her squares amazing?). And then my amazingly talented friend started one and invited me to join! The premise of a modern quilting bee? There are twelve members, each member is assigned a month in which to pick a theme as well as fabric if desired, then all other members make quilt squares that meet the guidelines. By the end of the year, each member of the quilting bee will have a quilt.

What do I like so much about this? 1) I am notoriously bad at finishing big projects, like quilts. 2) I get incredibly sick of pumping out square after identical square for quilts, but overwhelmed by putting together a more interesting, free-form quilt. 3) I have faith that I can, actually, finish one to two quilt squares per month.

I haven't much experience in quilting. I have made three quilts. The first was when I was 16. It has purple-ish calico cows appliqued all over it. It permanently resides in my parents' house with all my other embarrassing early forays into the world of crafting. The next was a white on white wedding quilt for my older sister (I used to be afraid of color). The third was a wedding quilt for my younger sister using a set pattern, white space and rich colors. I liked the way this quilt turned out. I felt a glimmer of hope that I could, too, learn to create beautiful quilts. I then began having children and haven't quilted since.

I still owe my brother and my other sister a wedding quilt. As well as myself.

With my position secured in this modern quilting bee, I feel like my time to do some excellent quilting has finally arrived.

I just finished the block for September. More on that soon.

quick skirt: a tutorial

Alright, I'm going to try to make this somewhat easy to follow. Fingers crossed.

Quick Skirt

1/2 yard fabric (For adult size, use 1 yard fabric).

1 spool elastic thread.

1. French Seam - back: Begin with fabric folded in half, with wrong-side edges together. Sew 1/4 inch from outer edge (if there is fabric information printed along these edges, or a strip of plain fabric, you'll want to sew 1/4 inch from the inside edge of that and trim the excess off, so that you will not see it when the seam is finished).

2. Turn the fabric inside out and press seam. Sew 1/2 inch from your pressed edge to create a french seam, hiding the unfinished edge inside.

2. Fold and press both hem and waistband (top and bottom) edges under 1/4 inch.

3. Fold and press waistband edge another 1/4 inch.

4. Fold and press hem another 1-3 inches (or 6 inches if you like, depending on desired length of the skirt).

5. With presser foot against the inside fold, stitch around hem.

6. Fill an empty bobbin with elastic thread. I use my machine threader just as I would for regular thread. You will have elastic thread on the bottom and standard thread through the needle on top. Set your machine to the longest stitch it allows (a "4" on my machine) or a zigzag stitch (both have worked well for me -- it just depends on what kind of stitch you want showing on the outside). With the fabric right side up, stitch just as you would for a normal stitch, with the needle in the center position, beginning with the presser foot on the outer edge of the fabric. This will both begin your rounds of elastic stitching and stitch down your waistband seam (folded in steps 2 and 3).

7. When you reach the end of your first round of elastic stitching DO NOT STOP. Simply stitch over the first few stitches of the first row, and then sew at a slight downward angle for 1/2 inch until your presser foot can use the round you just stitched as a guide. Continue going around in circles 6-10 times, shifting downward in a smooth drop at each circle-end. When you are finished with your last round, close your final circle by stitching firmly over the beginning of your last round to make sure the elastic thread won't unravel. Don't worry if the waistband seems very loose at this point -- it usually does.

9. Wash and dry your skirt on low (be careful drying elastic, as it can harden -- don't you hate fried swimwear?) Your waistband will be tight and firm now. After the initial washing, I usually hang dry any clothing with elastic (for the aforementioned reason, and also because I just like to hang our clothes), but you are more than welcome to dry the skirt howsoever you normally dry clothing with elastic.

Then throw it on and enjoy!

wednesday's ode

To beautiful surroundings.

new school year art

 

As my daughter and I prepared for her to enter kindergarten this year, her excitement reminded me of my own (ages and ages ago). There was nothing more lovely than pristine pencils, unbroken crayons and fresh notebooks without doodles, scribbles, or tainted by the telltale marks of an eraser.

This year, I saw beauty in the aftermath of preparations. And in contemplating the creations and learning that would ensue from the pencil stubs and crayon halves; the bursts of creativity (or boredom) that would leave their mark on the pages of her notebook.

date night with my girl

On friday night, dinner is a hurried affair. Something quick and easy that doesn't require a lot of clean up. The kids and I eat early and then I hand out assignments: make sure to change the baby before you put on his pj's; please clear a footpath across the floor in your room; please please please put away the food that will rot before I get home. With the necessities under control, the seven year-old and I head for the car.

Over the past few weeks we have discovered a route to her riding lesson that is almost exclusively rural -- fields and horses and broad views of the hills. We turn off the radio and roll down the windows and talk about farms and animals and the horse we want one day. I'm partial to grey arabians; she is dying for a black Rocky Mountain. [Speaking of dying for a horse, she brought me a Shel Silverstein book the other night, plopped it open to 'Little Abigail and the Beautiful Pony' and announced, "You really need to read this mom, to see what can happen to a girl when she doesn't get her pony."] Before the car is even in park, she throws the door open and sprints for the stalls. I gather up my knitting or a book, and go looking for a spot with a little shade and a good view of the paddock.

This week, as fall officially kicked in, there was a new edge to the air, a new hue in the sky. Fresh -- can I call that a color? I brought a jacket from the car but could not bring myself to put it on. She rode bareback for the first time, and could hardly stop hugging the horse.

For a full hour she did this:

While I did this:

And all while the sky was doing this:

and this:

and even this:

Sometimes I think the whole combination is a show put on entirely to soothe my sanity, to ease up the tension from much of the week. But even if the audience extends beyond one, if part of the display is for the benefit of everyone managing a glance out the window, I'll still happily buy my ticket. Friday's drive and lesson fee and hurried day are a price more than worth paying for the pleasure of watching the sky dance and evolve, while this girl of mine strokes her dream.