Drunkard's Path

In our revamped dining/sewing room I finally found the time and space to finish this drunkard's path quilt. I made the blocks back in June, and did nothing with them for the next six months. As is the way with these things, it all came together pretty quickly once I finally took them out again. I'm happy but not thrilled with this one. The blocks were time consuming to make, mostly because I am no great shakes at sewing curves, and they were more complicated than the blocks in any other quilt I'd made (Which isn't saying a lot, my quilts are generally very simple). I love the fabrics in this, but I'm not sure I really showcased them well. I was very unsure of what to use for sashing. I nearly went with something much brighter - even orange - which made it a more arresting quilt, but eventually decided on this rather reserved grey. I had in mind a charcoally binding and indeed the fabric I bought was called 'Coal' but when I got it home it turned out to be a bluey-black, more than a grey, and I'm not entirely convinced. In addition to which I made a complete hash of 3 out of 4 of the mitred corners. I'm not exactly sure what went wrong. I can't even bear to show a picture. I'm sounding much less happy and more critical than I feel, it's just that, considering the effort that went in to it, I hoped to really really love it and I'm not sure that I do. It's the way of things though, isn't it? It's very unpredictable what will work and what won't. At least for me.

Clueless

When it comes to knitting, I am really clueless. I don't get how it works. I don't have that sort of intrinsic understanding of the process that I suspect the true knitter requires. I can follow a pattern and I can get by with the basics. When I first knit something on circular needles I thought it might be the start of a whole new things for me. A thing in which I got knitting. But no, I've just stagnated.

I read quite a lot of knitting blogs and I have watched more than one youtube video but I still don't understand how it works. I can't correct a mistake very well, I am pretty hopeless at picking up stitches because I struggle to work out what the hell the yarn is doing. I cannot understand how people can write knitting patterns. I cannot understand how people can alter knitting patterns. Without a picture of what a pattern looks like I would have absolutely no clue at all. And instructions in patterns are quite often confusing to me because I don't really know where I am heading.

Is it simply time and practice? Will it one day click? Or is it a brain wiring thing? I really love knitting and I really wanted to finish this scarf, the first thing I have ever knit for myself (nb. Craig queries whether it should be 'the first thing I have ever knitted for myself. I feel that knit can happily work as past tense but I am open to adjudication from grammar enthusiasts).  In fact I so wanted to get it finished (partly because I actually need it - I managed to leave my scarf in Santa Monica and it's bloody cold here) that I stayed up late to get it done, which involved watching 6 out of order episodes of 'Will and Grace'. Initially Grace was pregnant, and Will was in love with a cop. Then Grace wasn't pregnant and Will was in love with a Canadian photographer. Then Grace married the Canadian photographer so that he could stay in the US. Then Will had broken up with the cop but Grace wasn't pregnant so I think that this before the photographer. I could have changed the station, but honestly, we have about fifty billion channels to choose from and I can almost never find anything to watch. Anyway, I stayed up late and finished it - it is a completely plain rib knit in a lovely wool by Manos called Spruce.   I had planned stripes but then decided against them, so ended up with just two, which I think look a bit crap and I probably should have left them out altogether. But anyway, I finished it and then I thought - should I block it? I've read about blocking but I don't know whether it's required for every knit, whether it would be required for this knit, or really how to do it at all. I only have a few pins here, not having brought any sewing kit with me. The pins come from a shirt that Craig bought which was pinned in no less than 12 places (!). So I damped down the scarf and pinned it with pins and, when they ran out, needles, to a couple of towels. Is this appropriate? By the next morning it had mostly dried and was definitely wider and more open than before. I whacked it, still pinned to the towel, onto the hydronic heater (a gentle heat but still - appropriate? Or wildly inappropriate?) and now I've worn it and it is lovely and soft and I like the colour (sans stripes) a lot. But I remain clueless.

Posy

On Tuesday, as Lil and I walked the short distance home from kinder, we picked a little posy from the flowers poking out of people's front gardens. This is something I did endlessly with the older girls, but the rhythm and traditions of their early years are, I often feel, lost to me now. There was a certain cycle of work I was in - off work for a year with a baby, back to work for a year, off work for a year with the next baby - and so on for eight years. In my 'back to work' year, I worked part time, and even when work was at its most absorbing, I was either breastfeeding or pregnant, physically anchored in the world of early childhood. I'd cycle in to work and gear up intellectually for the day, and cycle home and wind down, ready to be reabsorbed into the countless daily tasks and minutiae of mothering small children.

Lil is still a very small child, not even four yet. And I still work part time and have two days a week home with just her. But our days together are not the same as my days with the other kids. When Ruby was four I had a two year old and a newborn. I think I gave myself over much more fully to the requirements of the job. I didn't expect to get anything done, other than to look after the kids; baking and visiting friends and making playdough and going to the library was the stuff of our days. With Lil, though, it can feel as though our lives have already moved onto the next stage and she has to keep up. She stays up later and watches movies the others would never have seen at her age. I don't put on funny voices or read stories at dinner time anymore to entice her to have another mouthful and I can hardly believe I ever did that with the others. My days standing at the swings and endlessly pushing small children are over. I can't do it anymore. I'm not interested in making the connections with other mothers that I once eagerly sought. I know enough mothers now. My cycle home from work no longer clears my mind and leaves me prepared to step back into family life. Work encroaches on my thoughts and emotions. It's like a magnet, or a vacuum, drawing me toward it and requiring energy to withstand its dark attraction.

Picking this little posy with Lil took me powerfully back to those early days, and left me a little melancholy for all that she has missed out on, from me. I assuage my guilt by assuring myself that she gets plenty of zoo and library and parks with Kim. Guilt is a useless emotion, anyhow, and I don't really feel guilt so much as wistfulness for that time that has now gone, and the knowledge that I can't go back to it, or back to the person I was and the mother I was then, even if I tried.

Whole Cloth

Though I haven't been posting a lot recently, I have not been idle.

I whipped up a small batch of whole cloth quilts. I love making them because they come together so quickly - usually within one day - and really showcase a fabric.

These are all just one metre of 2 quilting fabrics, and with such a small item I thought I'd experiment a little bit with quilting techniques.

This one has overlapping concentric circles. You can see that my quilting has a long way to go. I initially started using my free motion quilting foot and then realised that it was actually easier with a walking foot. Nevertheless, lots of wonky curves, but after a wash and the inevitable rumpling up, I am reasonably pleased. And I just love the fabric.

I played it a bit safe with this one and went for a stippled 'seaweed' effect. I've done this a bit and feel pretty confident now. I tried to make it a bit more polished as I'm planning on donating it, along with my linen 'Maggie Rabbit' to the silent auction at the fete. The top is 'Glimma' by Lotta Jansdotter.

With this last one, I tried straight lines. I didn't want them evenly spaced but I did want them straight, which I didn't achieve - some veer off slightly and I really don't know why! I abandoned the masking tape half way through as it didn't seem to be particularly assisting me in keeping the lines straight. I really admire people who do meticulous, perfect work. I am in awe of those who can achieve the perfect mitred corner. That will never be me, but I am improving. I have no doubt that, five years from now, I'll look back on these and shudder at all the mistakes and terrible sewing, just as I think with embarrassment about some of the things I sewed as gifts years ago. On the other hand, I make things with love and joy and that must count for something, don't you think?

Sewing Party

For Nina's eighth birthday she had a little sewing party. Four friends came over and we made bags. A few days before the party she was suddenly struck by doubts - what if her friends thought sewing was boring? As it transpired they all did really well. We didn't get to sew buttons on as everyone was getting hungry but we sent them home with little sewing kits in their party bags so they could do it themselves. How adorable is that fabric with the children and deer? A spontaneous purchase from Spotlight that I couldn't go past. The Miffy fabric I bought in Japan, and that Owl and Pussycat is an old Heather Ross which I have always adored.

For birthday cake Nina requested a pavlova with raspberries and blueberries. As it is past berry season it was the most expensive birthday cake topping I've ever encountered.

The bags themselves turned out reasonably well. Inevitably they don't look perfect and that was not the aim. I think the guests were pretty thrilled with themselves and I hope they had fun. It was quite a lot of work during the party itself, but the preparation was minimal - just cutting strips of fabric and setting up the room to accommodate seven sewers.

I've been thinking of offering to run a children's sewing party as an item in our blind auction at the school fete so this was sort of a dry run. My feeling is that I wouldn't want to do any more than 5 kids by myself, and wouldn't recommend it for children under eight. And maybe I'm not actually that altruistic to volunteer a whole precious day to entertain other people's children. Maybe it isn't the sort of thing that anyone would be interested in bidding on anyway. What do you think? If you weren't a crafty type who could do it yourself, would you want a sewing party for your child? I'll need to think about it some more.

Romance

drawing by Ruby

Recently I wrote a romance novel for fun. There was a competition which spurred me on to do it, though I'd tossed the idea around in my mind vaguely for several years. My heroine is a lawyer who is working on a pharmaceutical class action. She is not me. She does love to sew but she's not me. She rides her bike to work but she is most definitely not me. She falls in love with her boss and they win their class action, he declares his undying love and they go to the pub. Quite an Australian ending I thought, except for the bit about winning the class action, as anyone who has ever run a personal injury class action in Australia would know (bitter? me?).

I got exactly nowhere in the competition, nor did I deserve to, but it was a most enjoyable and educational experience. In my brief foray into the world of aspiring romance writers I discovered what I suspect must plague every writer or artist of any description; a complete lack of any ability to judge one's own product. In my actual field of endeavour - the law - there are relatively objective parameters of success. Winning a trial is a good indicator that you haven't stuffed things up really badly. Discussing cases with colleagues and finding that others share your view on a matter, debating issues with counsel, analysing a legal point and finding your opinion validated by a judgment all give you indications that you are on the right track. I imagine that if I took on case after case and kept losing, or if I routinely missed the issue, or asked the wrong questions or overlooked a crucial point of law, I'd probably realise that I was not much chop as a lawyer.

But how do you know if you are a good writer who just has to weather the rounds of rejection before your talent is recognised, or if you are simply a hack and should leave well enough alone? (I ask this as a rhetorical question, I'm not proposing to quit my job and attempt romance writing as a career). I wrote this book and I liked my heroine (who is not me) and I adored my hero, who was dedicated to social justice and spoke fluent Italian. However after finishing the novel, and reading plenty of genre fiction and some of the other competition entries, I could not for the life of me tell if mine was on the side of 'kind of okay and shows promise' or on the side of 'stick to being a lawyer and never ever enter this realm again'. I really couldn't tell. A few friends said nice things, but frankly, of course they would.

I'm taking all the positives out of this experience - I learned a lot, I really enjoyed the process, and I can now say that I've written a novel (though to be honest I cannot imagine the occasion when I actually will). I discovered that it is not easy to impart crucial plot information in an interesting way. It can be difficult to avoid 'he said' in conversations, but annoying to have your characters constantly 'snapping' 'riposting' and 'opining'. Writing the actual romancy bits, the kissing and so forth, was quite bizarre. And trying to stick within the conventions of genre fiction but to transcend cliche was a challenge. To real writers, of real, published books, in whatever genre, I tip my hat. It's a hard job with lean rewards and I'm very glad that someone does it and that that person is not me.

Five Easy Pieces

Several years ago a friend told me that her two children, both a year older than my eldest two, had hopped into bed with her and their Dad and the four of them had stayed there all morning, each reading their own book. This seemed almost unbelievable. The idea that my own children would ever be old enough to engage in independent activities that I also enjoyed was impossibly remote.

In my mind's eye, though, I harboured a secret vision of a fire blazing and my four daughters sitting around me knitting, sewing or writing, whilst I, a wise and gentle soul, dispensed advice when asked and otherwise quietly observed. This was obviously a fantasy.  I am not gentle or wise. I dispense unrequested advice. I talk more than I listen. I wondered, too, whether I would have harboured such a vision if I'd had four boys instead of four girls?

In the intervening years of parenting, which included quite a bit of sewing and (attempts at) knitting with my kids, reality had also dawned.  Trying to work on my own project whilst they worked on theirs would lead mostly to frustration. The constant rethreading, picking up dropped stitches, unpicking and tying off meant it was better not to kid myself that I was getting anything done myself.  So the fantasy remained just that.

Lily's 'things'

And then this past weekend, when autumn finally came, I settled down with a bag of bits and pieces to make a few things for our upcoming harvest festival. One by one, the girls came over and requested a scrap of fabric and a needle and thread. I didn't make any suggestions of what they should or could make (a common trap for me), and realised that they were perfectly happy to have no particular end product in mind but to sort it out as they went along. I threaded needles and doubled the thread and tied a knot at the end - not the 'proper' sewing I want to teach them, but it saved endless rethreading and frustration. I had some thick, big-eyed needles that could be threaded with wool yarn and were blunt enough for Lily to do no damage to herself (or others).

Grace's stitching

Grace started off making little bracelets but soon starting stitching a gift for our beloved Kim.

Ruby's stitching

Nina stitched a little chicken and then a little bed for it, but it disappeared before I could take a picture (and remains lost).
Ruby stitched her name.  After a reasonable start she flirted with the false economy of giant stitches before realising the error of her ways.  By the time she reached the 'y' she had really hit her stride and was regretting her dalliance with haste on the 'u'.  Lily stitched 'things' and a great many of them.  She was absolutely thrilled with herself.

Cushion for Kim

During all this industry I was able to actually finish a couple of things of my own. Later I helped Grace turn her stitching into a pillow (her idea and design). She can't really use the machine yet, so I moved the fabric while she pedalled. Of course the results are not perfect which is what makes it so perfect.

I'm not sure that this scene, with the five of us stitching all afternoon companionably, will necessarily be repeated very often.  For sure if I attempt to make it happen it won't.  It is that strange sort of magic that has to occur by chance not design.

ps. And I remembered that last easter, when four of my nephews were staying with us, three of them spontaneously came and stitched with me, so I'd at least be in with a show of realising the same fantasy, regardless of the sex of my children.

The Pyjama Party

Pancake breakfast

Bedtime stories with Nina

Fortune telling with the multi-talented Madame Lulu

Tucking in

The hazards of letting five-year-olds add their own toppings

Dodgy bed icecream cake

The aftermath

Grace had a pyjama party to celebrate turning six. Easiest theme ever. We got up, put blankets and quilts around the living room, tucked teddies into 'beds', made a batch of muffins and mixed up some pancake batter and then the guests arrived. They made hot chocolates, played pass-the-parcel, musical statues and sleeping bag relays, sat down to pancakes with various toppings (the clear winner in my book was the hot toffee sauce), then Nina read stories ('The Tiger who Came to Tea', 'Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Book') while Ruby took them aside two by two to tell their 'fortunes'. It was a hit - a nearly ten year old holds great sway over the under sevens and she got into character beautifully. Thankfully the heatwave broke a few days before the party, and the weather turned cold - perfect for snuggling up in jammies under blankets. The guests were all terribly sweet and delightful, the party was easy and stress free and best of all Grace had a lovely time.

Not Feeling It

Whilst making this quilt a little while ago I kept seeing in my mind's eye a little corner of another quilt. It was red and grey, I knew it had white in it somewhere, and it was squares made into crosses. I couldn't quite get a visual on the whole thing but I thought it would take shape once I plunged in.

I started it immediately and was a bit excited to be using only solids - a first for me. And as I started cutting I was thinking 'yep, this is so right, this will work, this will look good'.

And then I laid out the squares and felt a bit flat.



Something about it reminded me of a high school project. I googled red and grey cross quilts and found a few that were almost identical to the one I was making. I hadn't consciously seen those quilts before but who knows, maybe Id stumbled across them and they had lodged in my mind. Anyway, I liked them on the internet, so I pressed ahead with this one, thinking (hoping) that once it was sewn together it would take a better shape. But the pieced top didn't float my boat either. I asked Craig, who has generally excellent taste.  He made a sort of face.

Nevertheless, I know that the actual quilting can bring something out in a quilt, inject some life. I departed from my recent stippling and went straight lines either side of the ditch. It's a quilting method I've loved on many quilts I've seen but again I'm not sure it works here.  Perhaps these squares (6 inch) are just too big? Perhaps the visual austerity would have benefitted from some stippling? Perhaps that one grey that leans toward tan is just wrong?

But I'd come this far, I reckoned I'd better finish it before judging. Maybe the binding would save it?



I adore this binding generally and I think it does help this quilt but still, the quilt doesn't quite work. Maybe the love will grow? Does that ever happen, or is it more likely that my current indifference will harden into loathing?



Maybe I can't do solids? I've got another quilt (and it is still not Lily's quilt) lurking in my mind. It is all solids. I was so excited when I got the idea that I immediately purchased all the fabrics I needed but it is solids again and I've lost a bit of confidence now. Perhaps, without the gorgeousness of prints to distract the eye, a stronger, better aesthetic than I posses is required to successfully work with solids. What do you reckon? Feel free to rip into this quilt, I'm not precious and could benefit from some insight.

Science Experiment (inadvertent)

During the recent hot spell Ruby asked if she could freeze her water bottle to take to school the next day.  I kind of forgot that she might not know that you can't fill a water bottle up to the top and freeze it.    Quite impressive, isn't it, the power of water?  That's stainless steel.

The Gingerbread Party and other Christmas Traditions

It's become a tradition over the past five years to have a little gingerbread decorating party for the girls and their friends.

The first year I made eleven complete houses for four year olds to decorate. It took me days of work, making the gingerbreads, assembling the walls, waiting a night for them to harden before attaching the roofs. I went through kilos of icing sugar. I can hardly believe it now. This year it was just your basic gingerbread men and women.

I didn't even make a house myself for the first time in many years, and I am totally fine with that. I have kept to my commitment to do only that which will bring me more joy than stress. A few things have gone by the wayside: I have written nary a Christmas card; we bought our gifts for all the teachers; I haven't baked for the neighbours and I'm not going to get round to sewing up fabric bags for gift wrapping as I keep intending to.

I'm have finally figured out that I have a tendency to plan too many things and then feel a bit resentful of everything on my plate. I'm getting better about scaling back and accepting help.

We did made the crackers yesterday. It was a last minute thing and I was prepared to let that go too, though I've been making the Christmas crackers for about 20 years now. But it was easy and the kids all helped. I already had the snaps, the cardboard was cut up packing from the many parcels that have been arriving lately and the wrapping was odds and ends from presents already received (thanks Sasha, for the yellow paper and the beautiful mug it contained). The stickers were a free download from here. They are filled with a mint chocolate, a $1 scratchie and a fortune cookie. I do have two more Christmas dresses to sew. Ruby and Nina's are done, I'll do Grace's tonight and hopefully have time to get to Lily's on Monday. It is one tradition I would like to keep, especially as there will be nothing else handmade this Christmas. Lily's quilt has not eventuated this year and I am still struggling to get an idea of what it will be, despite having bought some fabric for it months ago. Perhaps 2013 will bring inspiration.

The jacaranda is on it's last legs now and the heat today will no doubt finish it off, but the flowers lasted nearly four weeks and I think it was the most spectacular year it's had, at least since we've lived here. The ground is now a carpet of fallen flowers. All feels calm around here. After the high of the party this morning we have battened down the hatches and are trying to keep cool. Shades are drawn and the girls are sprawling on chairs and the floor with the ceiling fan on. It's Christmastime.