Passing the Soup: A Metaphor for Being There for Friends

When I write about myself, it's usually about my relationship with textiles. But today I'm going to share what I think is one of the loveliest and luckiest things about my life, and it's got to do with soup.

I consider myself a pretty healthy person—I try to eat thoughtfully and moderately. I walk 3-4 miles several times a week, I do pilates twice a week, all last winter I swam between a half-mile and a mile twice a week, etc. etc. Nevertheless, I've wound up needing significant medical interventions in four of the last five years. It's challenging on a number of fronts, not the least of which is because it doesn't fit with my self-image. But what's made it all bearable is the passing of the soup.

Pre-Soup Veggies

This past Monday, the day before I was scheduled to have significant surgery on my nose for skin cancer, my friend Emily called and said she wanted to stop by with some soup for me. She did and we chatted and she left a wonderful container of carrot-potato soup and some sweet potato pie. I had to cut our visit short because I was taking soup to my friend Greta, who had just had a baby. It made me realize how lucky I am to live where my community of friends looks out for one another in good times and bad.

This past year I've shared wonderful joy and deep sorrow with friends, and as much as possible I've tried to "pass the soup." Often I feel guilty that for one reason or another I'm not able to make someone an entire meal and feel that the little I do is inadequate. But when it's me on the other side, I'm reminded how there are many ways the "soup" gets passed, and how each one of those acts is meaningful and helpful.

Since my surgery, I've had a cadre of volunteers who arrive twice daily to walk Pearl, and who've brought dinner and breakfast. I've received flowers, take-out Thai food, cards, and phone calls. Greta's texted me photos of her dear, sweet new baby. Everyone has their own skill set and an amount of time they're able to give at that moment and each act of kindness adds up to an amazing whole. I've felt so loved and cared for during this medical incident (and the others). I hope I remember in a few weeks, when my face isn't swathed in bandages, that no matter what I do for someone, even if it seems small, it matters. It's worth doing.

Pass the soup. 

What's keeping me BUSY

Poor, neglected blog. If there are any readers left out there, I certainly appreciate you! Here's what's been keeping me busy:

1. I'm working on a book with the tentative title of Art Quilts of the Midwest: publication date is March, 2015. I'm interviewing and writing a bio of each of the 20 artists whose work will be included—there were close to 100 entries—and have yet to talk with one who hasn't taught me something new, provided an interesting perspective on art and place, and been kind and lovely to "meet."

2. The spring issue of Stitch includes a couple pieces I wrote: an article on cross-stitch (loved learning that history) and a back-page essay about sewing the same pattern multiple times.

3. Posts I'm working on for Moda's Cutting Table blog continue to enable me to talk to some talented designers...I've got an interview this afternoon set up to "meet" one of their newest (you can find the story on Monday on The Cutting Table).

4. I've been working at Home Ec on Thursdays. The sock monkeys at the top of the page were tucked into my bag yesterday in preparation for the class I'm teaching on Sunday at Home Ec—it'd been so long since I made a monkey that I stitched the one on the left as a refresher....and I must say its cheery outlook during these dreary, cold days was my reward. (Sock monkey history here.)

5. And I've been putting Pearl's booties on nearly every time we head out into the Polar Vortex (we refer to this as Pearl's booty call). She hates them, and stands on three legs, holding the offending bootie up until I force her to put a leg down so I can put on the next one. This continues until all four are on, her leash is hooked to her collar, and she trots out of the house and down the sidewalk.

6. I made mitered-corner napkins for Maggie for Christmas out of Minick and Simpson's fantastic woven Midwinter Reds.

7. I finished binding the quilt I started last summer based on the workshop I took with Bill Kerr of Modern Quilt Studios. Linda Duncan quilted it, along with two others you'll soon see, and I really love it.

8. I've been knitting, but both projects are gifts, so their unveiling will have to wait.

So that's what's up with me...how about you?

No, Pearl, No!

Pearl feigning nonchalance

When I was visiting my folks in Southern California, my mom and I happened upon a great shop in Laguna Hills: Sewing Party. They had some fantastic samples and their classroom was buzzing with activity. My mom was so inspired that she had my dad take her back the next day and she bought the Harlequin pillow pattern (which also includes this smaller, pin cushion version).

She asked me to clarify the instructions on the pin cushion portion of the pattern and so I ended up making one while we were at our cabin. (Pearl was convinced it was a dog toy and would snatch it whenever I looked away.) I made two using Vanessa Christensen's Simply Style and when I got home I made another with Carolyn Friedlander's Architextures fabrics. I've also marked the quarter-inch stopping points on two more sets of squares (the most fiddly part of the process) in preparation for sewing them. If you're in possession of any of those mini-charm packs (2.5" squares), they work perfectly for this project. Making something three-dimensional was really a revelation.

(If you'd like to try your hand at the Harlequin pin cushion and live in the area, I'll be teaching a class at Home Ec on Oct. 19. They'd make great holiday gifts, and wouldn't you feel so smug having a head start on those! )

There's No Place Like Home

I've been away, again. Got home about midnight and finally had a decent night's sleep. Travel is enlightening and I always come back with a greater appreciation for the world I've visited, but also for the world in which I dwell—my friends, my garden, my home, and my dog all look a little sweeter to me. Each time I return I promise to be kinder and make more time to be with them and enjoy the moments I have here.

Sunrise this morning proved the world was abloom—redbuds, tulips, hosta poking its green tips through the earth, lilacs. France is lovely, but truly, there's no place like home. 

Heading to Houston

Does Pearl look a tad miffed in her stitched portrait? It's likely because I'm once again leaving her behind. I'm off to Quilt Market. Photos and commentary to come!

(This amazing Pearl portrait was created from a photo by Codi and Alisa at Home Ec Workshop. Check out their shop window for lots of other critters, some nearly as cute as Pearl.)

Textile treachery

Like many a textile-lover, I'm fond of fibers of any ilk and can't stay true to just one. I love to sew, I love to quilt, I love to needle felt, and I love to knit (crocheting is still beyond me, but on my radar of things to try). This past winter, while it seemed that I wasn't sewing much, I was still knitting. Winter is the only time I get really into watching TV, and knitting is the perfect way to make me feel slightly less guilty about it. So I spent some winter knits curled up with needles, yarn, and Law and Order.

I've always been intimidated by a lot of knitting because it seems so numbers-oriented. But enough people convinced me that even I, a math-phobic, could handle cables. So I gave it a try, joined Ravelry, and made the Gretel beret by Ysolda Teague. And what did I discover? Knitting cables is the most freakin' fun I've had in ages! I loved this pattern because every row was different, but not too long, and I had that incredible feeling of satisfaction from learning to do something that's scared me.

I knit it in a washable wool (I think it was Cascade 220 Superwash) in an orange that I thought would look good with my big ol' brown down coat.

The only problem is that it is huge. The pattern has three sizes and I wanted a bit of the snood look. I started knitting the snoodiest of the three sizes and realized that would be enormous, so ripped it back significantly and went for the medium size. Even then, as my husband said, to make this hat fit I need to grow dreadlocks. I really did swatch it beforehand, but somehow it didn't work out.

Pearl supervised my photo shoot. Sorry I didn't get a picture of it on someone, but I was trying to save myself the humiliation of being laughed at, which is what even my dearest friends have done (they try to be supportive and say it's just fine and then they see it drooping to my shoulder blades and crack up). 

I'd still really love a snood with cables. Does anyone have a pattern they've tried that they'd recommend?

Collaborative quilting

I've joined a small group of interested quilters at Home Ec Workshop (Codi calls us Prelude to a Quilt Guild) and we've met a few times now. The group is fairly free-form and our stitching abilities range from newbie to very experienced. Sometimes we just talk about what we've been doing and sometimes we all decide on a small project that we work on between meetings and share the next time. Thus far, I hadn't managed to get any of the projects completed, but this last time I was inspired.

Each of us cut 64 squares of 5.5" background material (I used a print I've had for ages, everyone else picked solids), and 128 half-squre triangles, cut from squares that measured anywhere from 2.5" to 4.5". Then we threw all the half-square triangles in a big pile and plucked out the number we needed. It gave each of us an opportunity to use someone else's fabrics, which were often fabrics we wouldn't have chosen ourselves.

I sewed each block intentionally not color-matching the triangles (although I did often sew a large one and a small one to each background piece). Then I deviated from the original pattern (it's loosely based on Corner Store by Lynn Harris in Pretty Little Mini Quilts) in which the background blocks all faced the same direction (above), forming a kind of flat Star of David.

In a future post I'll share the finished quilt tops. Can't wait to see what everyone's come up with!

Pearl helped, of course.

New camera and a newly green world

I can't help myself. I try not to resort to pictures of my garden, but right now it's impossible to ignore. The daffodils are done and the redbuds are nearly so, but it's still an amazing sight. I just love early spring, when the plants in their beds are so tidy, compact, and perfectly colored and formed. No insects have had a chance to lay waste to the foliage and even the rabbits have yet to wreak their usual havoc. I decided it was time to move beyond my point and shoot and bought myself a new camera last week, and between that and the scenery, I couldn't resist. Please forgive me. 

Skin applique?

I've not been sewing at all, lately. Lots of freelance projects, plus a few medical issues have kept me from operating at full steam ahead. But I'm sure I'll be up and at 'em again, soon.

In lieu of actually using my sewing machine, I've taken a photo of something that DID require a needle: Molly's tattoo. I'm not a fan of tattoos (just ask my daughters), but when I met Molly four or five years ago I admit that I was drawn to the sewing machine tattooed on her forearm. If someone held me down and told me I HAD to be tattooed or they would take Pearl away, this is the tattoo I'd get. But only if...

Molly tells me that she got it after a break-up with a boyfriend, as a way to remind herself to remember to do the things that were important to her. She's got a very nice beau now (Donny) and a very nice dog (Oliver the beagle) and I'm quite lucky to have them as my neighbors. Molly still sews often, altering vintage clothes to give them a more modern fit. If you want to check out her stuff, visit her Etsy shop. If you're in Iowa City you can also check out Molly's "altered vintage clothing" and handmade skirts at White Rabbit. 

Anyone else have a sewing related tattoo? I'd love to see it/share it. Send links!

Wanna feel my fabric?

If you're reading this blog, I know you love fabric (or you're my dad).  And if you're not my dad and are addicted to textiles, we have a lot in common. 

Today the Fed Ex guy stopped by my door. Pearl growled and then barked at his knocks and I was a little annoyed...I'm supposed to be working, after all. But then I opened the package he'd left on the top step and out came two large zip-loc bags filled to the brim with fabric folded in the tidiest squares. The colors were rich and the prints better than I'd hoped. And best of all, they'd been marked down 50 percent...totally my kind of shopping.

That said, I'm a big proponent of shopping locally. I get a little annoyed by sewers who want to buy everything online and then are surprised when the local quilt shop has to shut its doors. While there are many amazing online businesses, there is nothing like taking a project into a store and saying "I don't get it" and having them help you. Or taking a class so that you get it in the first place. 

Fortunately for my local shops (Home Ec, Common Threads, and Pine Needles),  I'm a promiscuous fabric buyer. I purchase from all three local and semi-local shops AND from online vendors. 

Yes, yes, of course I have far too much fabric. But I have so few other vices that I don't even feel too awful about it. And every time I take a class or learn a skill I'll see a new fabric (or maybe an old one I've loved but couldn't figure out how to use) and decide it would be just the thing for a Birdie Sling or a wonky house. 

In the case of today's delivery, I was harkening to Mary Lou's advice to include cheddar fabrics in one's quilt. And these purple and blue veggies will be incredible potholders, a la Peg's pattern at Common Threads. And then there is enough of a couple to make a Birdie Sling and to use as a border for a quilt I've got started...


So let's hear what makes you buy fabric—do you buy for a specific project, or do you buy because you see a particular piece you can't resist? 


P.S. Anyone have a clue as to why the font looks different, despite the fact that it's the same font and size as in the previous post?

Keepin' the clouds away...

I mentioned in a previous post that after Kaffe Fasset and I put our heads together on a design detail I felt so elated I bought an umbrella adorned with one of his prints. Because Iowa just had the wettest October on record for 100 years, I had ample opportunity to use it.

When I bought it, it seemed to me a springtime print, just the thing for lifting my mood on grey March days. But the first time Pearl and I took an afternoon walk beneath it, I realized it was perfect for an autumn day: the colors echoed the changing leaves and magnified the beauty of a stroll around my block, even on a cloudy, wet day. I took Pearl home and got my camera and captured a few shots of the view of my neighborhood, from under my umbrella.



A reader asked where to find such an umbrella. I was fortunate to find it at the Westminster/Free Spirit booth at Quilt Market. Here's a link to the umbrella on their site. They've also got lists of vendors, although don't specify who is carrying the umbrellas—guess you might have to call around (or visit a lot of fabric shops. Now that would be a hardship, wouldn't it?)

Help needed (psychiatric and otherwise)!

I'm home alone today: Pearl is visiting the groomer. While there's something pleasant about not being followed constantly from room-to-room, I've also realized that aside from unconditional love and comic relief, dogs have another important function: they make their owners seem less crazy.

In my case, I find that even though no one else is around, I'm still commenting OUT LOUD about things I'm doing: "It's time for just a little cup of coffee" I say jovially as I sashay toward the kitchen, or "I wonder what the mailman has brought us today" when I'm bored with my work and need a distraction or "That Nora Ephron is something else" after reading a profile in The New Yorker over lunch.

Talking to oneself is bad enough, but I realize I often employ some amusing little accent (well, amusing to me...and to Pearl) when I'm providing this blow-by-blow commentary on my scintillating life. It's probably marginally weird to talk to one's dog like this...but I'm guessing it's beyond marginal to talk to oneself like this. Don't tell!!

Okay, now here's what I really need help with. I made the blocks for this quilt back in early June—the last time I sewed! The pattern is Ingrid Barlow's Boxed Blessings, which I bought in Madison, Wisc. during my quilter's equivalent of being a locavore (I bought patterns by local designers). Barlow made the pattern with more solids, whereas I decided I'd be a stash-buster and use a bunch of Heather Bailey half yards I'd purchased a year or two ago. I added an orange polka dot and a wonderful stripe that incorporates all the colors perfectly.

The problem in June was, the blocks all seemed to fade into one another (bottom photo). So I added striped sashing (top photos) and planned to bind it with the same stripe. I wasn't going to add a border, but now I'm not sure whether a plain fabric border might be just the thing to calm it down. Or perhaps I should take this as a lesson learned about combining multiple prints without the relief of a solid and just let it go.

Any suggestions/comments/advice? I'd love to hear from you!

Yellow in the garden and a yellow give-away!

I'm afraid of late it's been the garden vs. Pearl the Squirrel, and the garden's winning. If you live, as I do, where winter is relentless, the opportunity to be outside is too tantalizing. (These are very tiny, late-blooming jonquils—each flower is literally the size of a dime.) The garden wins because it's finally possible to put things in the ground and anticipate lush hosta foliage, deep pink and purple petunias, and fresh sprigs of basil and mint. And being outside just feels so good.

That is, until the last couple of days, when gnats started their dive-bombing mission. I've swallowed more than one, and when I let Pearl (the dog, not the blog) outside I've taken to carrying a hat. I spend the entire time swatting gnats off my ears, neck, and face.


Work projects have also made time for blogging scarce. But you can help me with one of them. I've been thinking a lot about my relationship to fabric and why I've chosen to express myself through textiles. What is it that draws you to fabric or yarn, that makes you long to caress it, use it, and yes, buy more of it? Is there some memory of learning to sew or knit as a child, perhaps, or the colors or textures of fabric, or the way it allows you to produce something unique? Leave me a comment that tells me about your passion for fabric, what it means to you, and why. (It needn't be long, or even a complete sentence!)

On May 31 I'll choose a winner. And that lucky winner will get something written by someone else who is totally smitten with fabric: the talented Diana Rupp (the subject of my profile for Stitch). She's the proprietor of Make Workshop in NY and the author of Sew Everything Workshop, a fabulous, sprial-bound volume with how-to tips on everything from choosing the right fabric to what to look for in a sewing machine. Although the book bills itself as a beginner's guide, there are wonderful projects included for those with a range of skills. Leave me a comment and this fabulous book just might be yours!

Buns in the oven

Time to unveil a few of my "top secret" sewing projects. First is a baby quilt that my co-worker Sondra and I made for another colleague, Madelaine. A couple of years ago Sondra and I made a wedding quilt together for another work friend. That time we worked separately: she cut, I pieced, she quilted, I bound. This time around we thought it would be fun to work together. Sondra engaged in espionage and ascertained that Madelaine, who doesn't know the sex of the baby, was opting for gender-neutral green and brown in her nursery. (I admit to being terribly old fashioned, but I think not knowing is the way to go—the moment when the doctor or midwife announces whether you have a boy or girl is one of the truly magical surprises in life—and it leaves room for you to ask brilliant questions like the one I asked of the doctor—"Are you sure?"—when the baby is not the sex you imagined. The doctor said he was sure.)
Sondra not only found out the nursery colors, but knew that Madelaine really likes Amy Butler fabrics.We opted for a combination of Amy Butler and Joel Dewberry fabrics and that collaboration was an interesting one.
As we selected our fabrics we each had one we loved that the other person was uncomfortable with. So we each had to compromise and stretch our visual horizons a bit. She chose the dark green, which I see now was entirely necessary for contrast. I chose an Amy Butler fabric (middle row, outer two blocks) that incorporates the green and taupe and a bit of orangey-caramel color that I think helps tie the fabrics together. We both felt pretty happy in the end with the interplay of color and pattern. The quilt pattern is Cubic Rhythm from the Spring 2009 Quilts and More. We liked its graphic quality and thought it would go together quickly.
While we admit to doing a bit of seam ripping, by and large it was a pretty quick quilt. I cut it out in the a.m. and we finished putting it together by late afternoon. Pearl helped, of course. I did the machine quilting the following weekend and Sondra bound it and used her graphic design skills to create a perfect label.


We presented it to Madelaine last week, just in time for her scheduled c-section next Wednesday (that darned baby is breach and just won't turn). About a week after we'd had our sewing session, Sondra told me she's also got a bun in the oven and is due in October! So sneaky, that girl. While we were sewing we'd talked all about pregnancy and she never let on. She and Madelaine are going to be fabulous mothers and I'm so excited there will be babies in the office on occasion!

Best in Show

Pearl, Paul, and I watched the terrier group during last night's Westminster dog show. When the wire fox terrier didn't make the final cut, Pearl just lay down on the floor and closed her eyes. (My sister sent a link to a New York Times article about past winners, which said that wire fox terriers were the all-time champs, with 13 wins.)

I had to watch the Scottish terrier take Best in Breed...quite a cute little guy, very self-confident. Rebecca wanted a Scotty when she was little, but I had heard they were feisty with kids, so we went for a Westie. Tillie was a great dog and lived to be 15.

Pearl actually started life as a show dog: her name was Cheviot's Dorretti Swallow (which was a British sports car). There's a photo of her in a 2006 dog show here. She apparently earned her champion ranking (or whatever it's called) and was retired when she was 20 months old, which is when I got her. For some reason, they didn't want to breed her...probably because she is a squirrel. I should have known...I do think much of her squirrely behavior stems from her show-dog lifestyle.

Doggie on the green

I'm still working rather relentlessly on my previously-mentioned writing project. Except for some time out to revel in the inauguration, I've had the ol' nose to the grindstone. I haven't even bothered to peer into my sewing room lately, but I think in a week or so I may be able to. In the meantime I leave you with this little terrier—somewhat Pearl-like, don't you think?—waiting patiently for me to return to my cutting mat.