Thinking Outside the Usual Box

Interior of the New Melleray chapel

If you've read my post on Etsy this weekend, you know in early September I visited the New Melleray Abbey near Dubuque, Iowa. The abbey is in a lovely, rural setting—indeed, until last year the monks farmed the surrounding land. I've known a number of people who visit New Melleray for retreats—the monks rent out 18 rooms for quiet, contemplative stays. The people I know who spend time there aren't all Catholic, but appreciate the opportunity for quiet, reflective time.

Signs demarcate areas in the shop

I went to learn about Trappist Caskets, the business that supports New Melleray. Sam Mulgrew is the general manager of Trappist Caskets. Sam is not a monk but is a woodworker, and actually made caskets himself before bringing the idea to the monks. He explained that creating these furniture quality caskets fit well with the life of the monks—the attention to detail and care with which the caskets are made matches the calm, reflective lives the men lead.

On left, Brother Felix, who has made more than 1,000 caskets

As I walked with Sam around the workshop floor, I saw men engaged in the work at hand. While they talked occasionally, there was no shouting across the room, no blaring radios.

Cremation urns drying

The monk's approach to their work—evaluating each piece of lumber to determine its best use, managing their forest sustainably, keeping the end use of their product in mind—is wholly integrated with the lives they lead. I don't know that I've ever seen a place where work and values align so closely. It made me wonder whether this kind of attention is possible only in a place that's separate from the world. The concept of intertwining your belief system and your daily life so completely is enticing.

I'm not Catholic and I don't plan to be buried when I die, but I left Trappist Caskets having gained insight into embracing both those decisions in life.

Flippin' Knitting

Last spring, a woman at a meeting sat next to me with the loveliest scarf. It was short and flippy on the ends and had the most charming little bobbles. I complimented her on it and lo and behold, the very next week (okay, so the meeting was Weight Watchers), she brought a copy of the pattern for me. A total stranger did this. I love people who love textiles.

The pattern is by Kat Coyle (just found her blog and it is well worth a visit—a super-talented designer with a bold and bright color sense—her lace knits are lovely) and was originally in Interweave Knits Holiday Gifts 2007. You can find it on Ravelry here.

 I made the red one in the spring for myself and was delighted to learn how to wrap and knit stitches and make bobbles...two new skills to accompany my learning to knit cables earlier this year. I settled on Blue Sky Sport Weight 100% Baby Alpaca from Home Ec—very cozy against my neck and it knitted fairly quickly. I decided to knit one in green for my Minnesota sister for her early June birthday. I'm feeling a little sheepish that I just finished it and sent it off, but she probably wouldn't have gotten much use out of it in July and August, anyway. (The colors really don't look nearly as rich in the photo as they are in person.)

And did I keep going to Weight Watchers? Well, yes, for awhile. But I got derailed by Italy, visitors, vacation at the lake, etc. Will. return. soon.

Share (Quilt Blocks) and Share Alike

I’ve never (successfully) been a part of a block exchange. I’ve wanted to join one, but just never had the time to follow through (that’s the unsuccessful part). So last year, when I was at Lake Tahoe with Mary Lou and friends, I was delighted when someone suggested we have a witch block exchange. The witch was modified from a pattern that I think had its roots in one of Gwen Marston and Freddy Moran’s fantastic, freeform books. (You can see Cherise’s incredible version of this quilt below.)

One of my fellow retreaters, De, offered to create a pattern and share it with us, which she did last year. Then Mel made a variation of De’s template pattern using strips. I didn’t get started on these until I was at the lake in August and only have one completely finished. But I have all the segments of the other 14 blocks ready to go.

I admit that used to be a bit of a snob about novelty prints. Some slip too far over the edge of cutesiness, particularly if you don’t have a baby or grandchild for whom you’re stitching. And who really needs a Halloween quilt? But as my friend Anne R. reminded me yesterday, most quilting these days doesn’t have a whole lot to do with need. And is there a better excuse for buying skull and crossbones fabric?

I’ll share the results with you in mid-October, when the retreaters gather and swap blocks…it will be a perfect example of what I love about quilting—the way that one block can look so different, depending on the fabrics used to make it. 

Have you had any experience with block exchanges? Any stories you'd be willing to share?

Happy Birthday, Little Beanie

Today is my youngest daughter's birthday. I was lucky enough to have her here over Labor Day weekend, and since she left yesterday we gave her her presents. The one I'd like to share with you is a circular scarf I knit for her.

Rebecca, (affectionately known as Beanie or simply The Bean), has rather exacting tastes and making something she likes isn't easy. But when I saw this lovely, golden Madeline Tosh DK yarn, I knew she'd love the color. I chose to make this circular scarf, Honey Cowl, a freebie pattern also from Madeline Tosh. I started this mother in May, taking it to Italy with me. I figured it was a simple pattern and would be perfect for those times when I'd be distracted and have to put it down. Even so, I pulled out rows multiple times...not sure how this happened on such a simple, 4-row pattern. But in the end I am very happy with it, and so is Rebecca. She put it right on and even wore it home on the plane, which delighted me no end.

So Happy Birthday, Beanie—Love you lots!

Vacation Round-Up

I mentioned in my previous post that I recently returned from vacation. It was an incredibly relaxing couple of weeks (yes, I said COUPLE). I'm not sure when we last took two actual weeks for R&R, but we did this time.

Friends helped print the signs

The bride's dress, elegantly simple, suited her perfectly

The first part of the vacation was spent at a wedding in Wisconsin. It was a lovely event during which the bride and groom's siblings played piano and bass and read poems. Every audience member got a kazoo when walking in, and we all joined in on All You Need is Love as the couple and their families left the auditorium.

Cupcakes rested on hand-dyed, hand-cut papers

 The reception was special in many ways, but I thought you'd especially appreciate that the bride made gazillions of lovely decorations...hand-dyed paper garlands on the walls, "doilies" under the cupcakes, letter press printed programs, place cards, table numbers, etc. She also created some enormous honeycomb structures that held lights for the ceremony, as well smaller ones that adorned the reception tables. It was a joyful event with lots of fun dancing.

Table decor, made by the bride

Loved the stitching on this guest's jacket

I'll share a few photos of the next part of the vacation soon. It included sewing and knitting, along with floating in inner tubes and drinking beer. Now there's no need to wonder why I was so relaxed and suffering from my return to real life. It doesn't get any more restful than that.

You May Already Be A Weiner!

We have a winner (weiner), chosen by my random number generator, my husband. The winner is Vicky F. Send your snail mail to me, Vicky, and get ready to enjoy a fantastic volume!

Thanks to all who entered. I can't thank you enough for taking the time to write some really wonderful tales about your friends in fabric—touching, funny, sweet, and sometimes bittersweet. If you haven't read them, I encourage people to take the time to do so. They're proof of the bond created by textiles.

Today's photo is one from my vacation at the lake. We got back a week ago today and I still haven't accepted that it's time to get back to reality. The picture gives you an idea of why re-entry is so tough...it's a lovely, soothing, and Internet-free place. Next time I'll post some photos of the witch blocks I stitched on a rainy afternoon in the cabin.

Thanks again for writing, and I hope you continue reading Pearl the Squirrel. And continue sewing with your friends in fabric.

Friends in Fabric, Redux...and a Give-Away!

I've written previously about the friends I've made through textiles, and it's time to mention two of them again. My buddies Mary Lou Weidman and Mel McFarland are not only two of the most down-to-earth, most fun, and most talented women I know, but they've come together to create a new book Out of the Box with Easy Blocks: Fun with Free-Form Quilting.

I've had the good fortune to hear about and see bits and pieces of the book as the quilts came together, and last fall in Lake Tahoe I even got to make a shoe block that wound up (on page 71, in case you're looking) in a quilt featured in the book's gallery of quilts.

Mary Lou's French fabric pineapple quilt

If you've read Pearl the Squirrel for awhile, you've heard the tale of how we all met—I interviewed Mary Lou for an American Patchwork and Quilting article and she wound up inviting me, a total stranger, to Quilt Market. And there I met Mel who turns out to live not too far from my parents in California. Since then I've had the opportunity to get together with them in Lake Tahoe (here and here) to sew. I also took a class from Mary Lou at John C. Campbell in January 2010. So despite our geographic differences, our paths have crossed, all thanks to fabric and sewing.

Mel & cow quilt at my parents' home in S.Cal

The new book really reflects Mary Lou and Mel's spirits—lots of cheerful imagery that celebrates special occasions and the everyday. The patterns give you an opportunity to create quilts for birthdays or babies and there are fantastic instructions to create the cow quilt, letters, cats, fruit, and more. After you've tried a few of them, you'll be ready to make just about anything you want.

So, in honor of my fabulous friends and their colorful, inspiration-filled volume, I'm giving a copy away. For a chance to win, leave a comment about one of your friends in fabric—at the very least, tell me her or his first name, and if you're feeling chatty, tell us a story about that friendship. One lucky commenter will be selected at random to receive a copy of Out of the Box with Easy Blocks!

Last day to comment will be Friday, August 26, so get cracking! I look forward to hearing from you.

Digging into Your Past and Finding Your Future

I mentioned that I've joined the local rowing club, and the experience got me thinking about the way things resurface in life—those things you used to do, but don't anymore. 

There are entire periods of life when it's possible to be obsessed with some activity—car repair, canning, going to movies, playing cribbage—and then for one reason or another you quit. Sometimes it's circumstances—you move and no longer have a garage to store your old Corvair, or you have a baby and the hours you spent in darkened theaters with a box of buttered popcorn are now filled with weighing the pros and cons of bibs and bottle warmers. Or maybe you fixate on something new and different and it overtakes your former preoccupation.

Sometimes these old passions disappear forever, but as I've gotten older I find that often they reappear, albeit in a slightly different form. I realize that part of what I love about rowing is that I’ve always enjoyed being on the water in a small boat—I've taken numerous canoe trips, taught sailing, and in high school I was on a flat water kayaking team. Sewing is the same—I quit for many years, and then a friend taught me to quilt and my love of stitching returned. My old obsessions may have morphed, but the fact that they’ve resurfaced makes me think they're an essential part of me. I may not see the connection right away, but eventually I look back and see the pattern—of fascination, absorption, and exhilaration.

How about you? Is there something you do today that is linked to a passion from your past? What did it used to be and what does it look like now?

One River and 46,000 Glass Tiles

During the summer of 2008, when the Iowa River reached far beyond its banks and wreaked havoc across the state, the University of Iowa was in the process of building a boat house for its women's crew team. They stopped what they were doing, watched the partially-built structure submerge, and once the river subsided made flood-proofing alterations, knowing that the river would inevitably rise again. The result is  a LEED-certified structure that sits at a bend in the river, affording views both up- and downstream.

 

One of my favorite features in the boathouse is a mosaic of a rower, gliding across the river's turbulence. It was designed and constructed by Des Moines artists Rebecca Eckstrand and Tom Rosbourough and is constructed of 3/4-inch glass mosaic tiles—46,000 of them—laid by hand and designed to withstand flood waters. Take three minutes to check out this video that shows the mural, the process used to create it, and the boathouse.

In June, my husband and I stopped to see the mosaic at an open house and were surprised when the tour guide ask us if we'd like to try rowing. I've long admired the sport, but have a few injuries and wasn't sure I could row. Here was an opportunity to find out.

Suffice it to say that not long after I signed up for a two-day learn-to-row workshop and survived. And after that, I joined the Hawkeye Community Rowing Club and have been on the water two and sometimes three days a week. Each time I'm both thrilled and terrified. I'm also surprised how much focus it takes. I never noticed Paul on the river bank, taking this photo (that's me in the front, my first time in a two-person scull). Suffice it to say that I am in love—with learning to row; with being on the river at 7 a.m., when only a few hardy walkers stride the banks and our boat scares up an occasional egret; and with the knowledge that my body can still take on, and meet, a challenge.

A Real Headache

The daughter of some friends recently underwent surgery for a brain tumor. She's a college student, 20 years old, and it was a frightening event for all concerned—hell, it was every parent's worst nightmare.

Despite this, her parents were paragons of calm—the mom told me that she felt that she needed to hold it together so that her daughter wouldn't be even more frightened before the surgery, but that she sobbed after leaving her daughter en route to the surgical suite.

Fortunately, things seem to be going well. The tumor was benign, and though she had to be re-hospitalized for a few days, she's home and the stitches are out.

While friends brought the family meals, and while I knew that was highly useful, I decided on a (totally impractical, particularly for a 20-year-old young woman) sock monkey. This time, I followed the directions while making the monkey. E's school colors are red and black, so I made a hat from a crimson baseball sock and embroidered a black "E" across the front. Then I made a pair of crossed band-aids from wool and french knots and stitched them on the head, where they can be hidden under the hat. (Indeed, I got the sweetest thank you note from E, who said that now that she'd gotten her stitches out she had one less thing in common with the monkey.) I used scraps of my Woolylady wool for both the band-aids and eyes and was reminded what a pleasure stitching through wool can be...like butteh!

I was a little worried about giving her this rather odd gift, as I don't know E all that well, but was gratified that the entire time I visited she kept the monkey in her lap. And I am so, so happy that she seems to be doing so well. I think their experience is part of what informed the last paragraph I wrote for my recent Etsy post on The Oxford Project: "Sorrow and fear, passion and joy will find you, and the completely unexpected can happen whether you strike out for parts unknown or move just down the block."