Tag Archives: quilt

Bounty of the garden

The bounty of our garden never includes vegetables because we have too much shade — but oh! Everything else!

Rhodies bursting into color. Comfrey stretching up in regal glory. Ferns gone wild.

Tidying the front bed a little. Planted two creeping junipers.

Everything (almost) dies under the front black walnut, so this year I’m going to plant some tall grasses in containers for a little screening.

In between ruining my hands weeding and planting, work is getting finished.

Cupcake pin cushion construction learned years ago from artist whose name I’m sorry I can’t recall but does it matter when there are thousands of tutorials on it now and Pinterest pix in the millions?

I like this new one because the open frets of the vintage button offer an easily identifiable spot for needles.

Teeter totter

Yesterday: cold enough to see my breath. Today: they’re predicting temps in the 90’s.

Meanwhile, this small quilt is missing something (life?).

I love the orb (though I can’t quite say if it’s a sun or a moon) and I like the integrity of construction — the house is pieced; the orb is revered appliquéd. But it feels lacking. What would you add?

To add anything on top is to disrupt the construction. I’ve layered raw edge appliqué on pieced compositions more times than I can count — so why the hesitancy?

This little one, on the other hand, makes my heart sing. Fun fact: there were a couple of summers in my teens when I worked side by side with Sufis — I thought they were the coolest people on the planet.

Look what emerged!

Okay, if anybody’s yard is going to spit up a sewing machine foot, it would be a quilter’s, but really? How did it get outside and when?

After putting up with a pounded dirt backyard for three years, we got quotes to re-sod it. I’m not a committed suburban lawn grower — there are the sustainability issues, the possibility of poisonous treatments, not to mention the huge cost of weekly yard crews. But the mud is untenable. It’s not just ugly, it’s super inconvenient (think: four muddy paws at the back door ten times a rainy day). And that’s where I draw the line. My convenience.

The quotes were astronomical, so even with tree-insurance money, we’ve decided to do it ourselves. What else is new? I get it: two or three guys, a batch of hours, plus the cost of the loam and sod (and — pretty sure — a hefty mark up for a Newton address). Ugh. What’s a couple of grueling days to us?

Even with paying for the sod to be delivered and renting a tiller, we’ll come in at $1,000 cheaper than the lowest bid, which was itself $1,000 less than the next lowest bid.

While we’re at it, we’ll reduce the size of the north bed (and straighten it) and extend the bed at the back southwest corner. The plan is to plant some fairly mature scotch pines in the corner too — both to keep Finn from going nose to nose with another dog-reactive dog and to screen the lot line where three large trees have come down recently.

After a stretch of relentless insistence on ball play, I’m happy to report that Finn finally understood that he doesn’t run the show out back. After a while, he gave it up and relaxed in the sun. Meanwhile out front some marsh mallows (is that their name?) that I never planted are thriving. I love it when that happens.

A mini-clothes line nearby affords good back light for viewing a nearly finished Village Quilt. I’m pleased with the translucent quality of the gauze backing (90 weight), but need to figure out how to better integrate the two layers next time. There was some bubbling that I’m pretty sure could have been tamed with a traditional batting/cotton backing layering. Any suggestions? Maybe an all over invisible baste first (a la Jude/spiritcloth)?

Have a nice weekend all!

Maybe by the next post, we’ll have a back lawn (but my sister will not be unpacked. That is certain). Talking abut grueling days — Thursday, Move Day, was a total grunt — even WITH a crew of three movers and her PCA present for three hours.

Playing Card Symmetry

At last, there’s enough quilting on this piece to consider that step done. Now — how to finish? It’s a little on the big side for me — maybe 18″ wide? Back when I composed this — two years ago — I had considered placing a reverse house below the horizon line, not unlike a playing card — one knave’s head down, the other up. Didn’t stick with that idea, but now I find myself wanting at least a moon below. I can consider the idea with the app PicFrame.

It’s more interesting with two moons, don’t you think?

PS I am under the weather with a cold or flu, so forgive my delay in getting to some of your blogs. My cheeks hurt. My eyes feel furry. My nose is stuffed. This is the first congestion I’ve experienced since I started using a Netti pot about four years ago. A pretty good run, I’d say.

Roof then ground

Added a roof. Up next: ground. Am trying to correct the tilt of the house, but perhaps I shouldn’t?

Yesterday Trayvon Martin would’ve turned 23. My heart still breaks to see his face.

Splashnewsonline.com

(Photo: SplashNewsOnline.com)

Here’s a poet with powerful things to say about motherhood and blackness.

The Barn

Having this quilt on my wall for a while meant a couple of poor color transitions had time to prick at me. When I decided to give the piece to my brother for Christmas, I decided to tackle those spots before shipping it off. It’s not always advisable to attempt “improvements” of this kind.

First, I added some yellow in the foreground to pull the eye foreword and interrupt the blockiness of the patchwork.Stitched a few dark patterned strips on either side to lend depth and to interrupt what had been a distracting light area to the barn’s left.

And finally, I applied more hand quilting here and there and added some red bits to adjust the perspective lines on the cupola and far right eave (not terribly successfully).

The tweaks are okay. Maybe not what I hoped for. With additions like this, you always risk of either disrupting the spontaneity of the original design or of creating new problems while fixing existing ones.

This piece ran the additional risk of spoiling the (possibly impressive) fact that it’s almost entirely pieced.

Anyway. The upshot is that my remediation, successful or not, has whet my appetite for learning. How come I never learned perspective? Really? And, maybe it’s time to learn how to manage transitions more skillfully by attending to color values.