I’m making yet another batch of kitchen towels. The way I have my loom set up, I see the back of the pattern when I weave.
The back . . .
I had to use a hand mirror at first, to make sure it was all coming out correctly.
The front . . .
Can you see what’s developing?
I love it . . . but I’m really sick of working on it.
I’ve loved the doing . . . but I want it done.
And it isn’t done. I believe I have 5 or 6 more blocks to do after this one is finished.
Plus I have to figure out how to quilt the sashing, those red stripes that separate the blocks.
My progress is slow because I’m sick of the process and there are so many other things that, right now, I need to do or want to do more than this.
But I tell myself that I am close to the end and I mustn’t walk way now.
This block isn’t fully quilted yet. I will do more, probably in the white points of the star, before the next time we report in.
My quilting isn’t very exciting. I’ve said before that I don’t have the patience for using stencils to draw curvy, involved patterns to quilt over so I tend to:
I didn’t get a lot done in recent weeks but what I did do is a result of being a part of the HQAL group.
The deadline to write a post about the quilt haunts me, nags me, irritates me, but, ultimately, lights a fire under me.
And for that, I’m haunted. Nagged. Irritated.
And grateful.
This Hand Quilt Along is an opportunity for hand quilters and piecers to share and motivate one another. We post every three weeks, to show our progress and encourage one another. If you have a hand quilting project and would like to join our group contact Kathy at the link below.
Kathy, Lori, Margaret, Kerry, Emma, Tracy, Deb, Connie, Susan, Nanette, Edith, Sharon, Karrin, and Gretchen
I was ironing from my stash of vintage linens recently and came across an apron that set off a wave of memories for me.
The fabric is vintage 1960s, sort of cool and retro. The sewing is novice—the waist band is applied awkwardly, so the uneven stitching creates puckers and wrinkles. The colors—the turquoise ties that match nothing in the main fabric—would appeal to a young girl.
I’d bet a lot of simolians that the apron was a project from a long ago Home Ec class.
I was a young girl, a novice at sewing in the 1960s, too . . . I took classes in this thing Americans called Home Economics.
It must’ve been the late 1960s and I was probably in 7th or 8th grade. The boys took “Shop” and used woodworking tools and learned about car engines, while the girls took Home Ec and learned about cooking and sewing.
For a person who now loves sewing and even quite likes baking, I hated Home Ec. Even then, as a 12- or 13-year-old, I thought of it as Home Ick.
I have these clear memories of the teacher showing us how to butter bread. She stressed that we needed to spread the butter or mayonnaise or peanut butter right up to the edges of the bread, very carefully right up to the edges, so that the bread would stay moist . . . for our husbands and children.
She told us to take two slices of bread out of the package and open the slices like pages of a book so, when we put them back together, with filling, they would fit and match perfectly . . . for our husbands and children.
She taught us that it was of utmost importance, when measuring liquids, to squat down and look at liquid in the measuring cup at eye level, so we would get the precise amount and our cookies would turn out perfect . . . for our husbands and children.
Ai yi yi.
The sewing lessons were just as lame, to my 12-year-old sensibilities. We sewed one seam up a length of cloth to make a tube, stuffed it full of batting, and tied the two ends closed with cord and called it a bolster pillow. Really?
We also did class presentations on makeup and I remember a classmate intoning that we shouldn’t use eyeliner because it was passé. I was impressed that she could the word “passé” in a sentence but that whole thing about eyeliner . . . ?
I like to think I was ahead of my time, a mini-feminist in the making. Maybe the attitudes of the late 1960s and 1970s were influencing me, even in the backwoods of upstate New York, but taking an actual class in how to make a sandwich struck me as ridiculous.
Maybe it was because my mother and father both worked and I had long made my own sandwiches . . . but taking an actual class in how to make a sandwich struck me as really, really ridiculous.
Maybe it was because what we were being taught was SO basic, not to mention sexist, and I knew the boys were learning skills of value—changing the oil on a car, making book ends with power tools—and no one was ever suggesting that they do it just so, for their wives and children.
Home Ec died a few years later at my school. I believe it has since been reincarnated, in different forms, in some schools. Boys can learn to cook and girls can take Shop, or not, as electives. Maybe they’re also teaching budgeting and organizational skills, and useful life skills, beyond how to butter bread and disdain eyeliner.
Thinking about my own Home Ec experience has me wondering—was it just that my experience was a lame one? Did other teachers, in other schools, provide a better, fuller range of skills? The person who stitched the vintage apron certainly learned to sew more than a bolster pillow!
Was Home Ec just a thing in the United States? Did/do schools in other countries use valuable school hours teaching such things?
Do tell—what experience did you have with Home Ick?
Sand and suntan lotion and a trip far from home do not lend themselves to hand quilting on a big unwieldy project.
And that is why hand quilters always need a portable project to tote along!
While my women’s rights quilt languishes at home, cold and alone, my fusion squares are enjoying a vacay.
And they are proliferating. At last report, I had finished 54 of these 5-inch squares. I have now finished 97, plus I have 12 more on this trip with me.
I have woven in all the crocheted ends and blocked the crochet trim on all the squares.
I am feeling like this project might be reaching its logical next step—the crocheting together of all ochocino-neuve-jillions of squares into one big square, to be known as THE Fusion Quilt.
I have so many gorgeous bits–some are subtle, some are sophisticated, some are splashy, some are very “loving hands at home.” I love them all.
Does this mean I have used up all the scraps of vintage prettiness that spawned the project?
Not, it does not.
I have dozens more 5-inch squares that may, one day, be incorporated into another quilt.
But, for now, I’m going to wash the suntan lotion off my hands, stick my feet in the white sand, and sew in the sun. And get ready to finish this project!
This Hand Quilt Along is an opportunity for hand quilters and piecers to share and motivate one another. We post every three weeks, to show our progress and encourage one another. If you have a hand quilting project and would like to join our group contact Kathy at the link below.
Kathy, Lori, Margaret, Kerry, Emma, Tracy, Deb, Connie, Susan, Nanette, Edith, Sharon, Karrin, and Gretchen
Love Those "Hands at Home" 