fantastic mr. felix: a foxy finished quilt

"Even though so much of modern life and theology insists that what matters is my mind, my soul, my inner self, my heart, there is still this nagging part of me that knows on some deep level that the things we see and touch and hear and taste are spiritual, too." 

--Shauna Niequist

I spend a long time picking out fabrics. The perfect shade of aqua, the happiest-looking foxes I can find. And perhaps it's because I expect so much of them. I expect these strips of cotton to communicate years of friendship. I expect them to sum up love and hope and joy. I expect them to act as a promise of support -- that if ever life is difficult, we are here to help, and if ever life gives cause to celebrate, we are here to join in the excitement.

It's a lot to ask.

But I hope that the new little life who'll be wrapped up in these bright triangles will feel some of that -- the emotion wound up in woolly batting -- seeping out through the stitches.

a suffolk summer quilt

We're just back from our summer holidays; this year, a month spent in Suffolk (on the east coast of England) with my family.

With the warmest English weather I can ever remember, we spent as many days as would could at the seaside, and then returned home to lay down blankets and sit in the garden together, looking out over the most amazing iridescent yellow fields. Something I've missed terribly since moving to Texas is a summer spent outside, and so the sea air and the evening breezes that swept up over the Waveney Valley gave me the deep, clear breaths I'd been missing.






We picked up a few souvenirs from this trip -- a handful of carefully chosen beach stones, two handmade mugs from my favourite gallery in Southwold, a few bars of Cadbury's -- but perhaps most meaningfully, my Mum and I worked together on a couple of quilt tops inspired by the local summer colours.

The mustard yellow fields. The chilly grey-and-navy sea. The pale warm sand. The bright pops of beach huts along the shore.

And what a lovely reminder it is proving to be. I'm still quilting it at the moment, but I've loved wrapping it around my shoulders even now -- loose ends, safety pins and all -- while looking through photos from the trip.




More than other other quilt, this one is infused with a sense of calm and well-being; the feeling of rest, of being home and really known. Something unexplainable that comes, perhaps, from the sharing of fabrics and time and this period of life spent together.

roman tile: a finished quilt

For a few months, I've been playing with ideas for interlocking blocks -- that is, a quilt designed of two or more different blocks, that, when joined together, work to make a continuous design. I love the illusion of it -- these diamonds that are really created from two simple 10" square blocks. Definitely a new challenge for me, working in shapes that demand more accuracy was tough, but it felt very rewarding to break free from my straight-edged comfort zone.

In fact, all sorts of new frontiers got explored in this quilt. I bought my first green fabric -- can you believe it?! -- , and so must beg forgiveness from the poor abused colour green for all of the harsh words over the years. You are not always pond scum.




I also tried out a new quilting pattern -- diagonal lines that intersect in the centre, and then radiate out from there. What a pleasure! Especially on a square quilt, this was really effective, and surprisingly fast given the closeness of the lines.



A few other, older quilts tagged along for the photo shoot. Both were made last year -- a log cabin quilt that I made while feeling homesick for the English seaside, and a toddler-sized subway quilt made while I was pregnant (and certain Penny was a boy) -- and have now been added to the gallery of quilts page.

{in progress: 'not a lotta sleep' quilt}

With a few small pieces of my favourite Lotta Jansdottir prints left over from making cushions, I had the idea of patching them together to make a little modern runner for our dining table. 

The scraps were arranged, sewn together... but then, as I laid it out, unfinished, on the table, the very thought of crumbs and curry and bolognaise and all the rest of our eating-time mess and mayhem splattering on these delicate little prints, the plan changed.

The table runner grew and grew, using up the few larger pieces of Lotta fabric I had, plus a couple of Justin's shirts, of course, and some long solid panels along the sides. It grew to be an over-sized twin-sized quilt (large enough to cover our guest bed completely, so that it doesn't look too blanekty in the day, but can be slept under at night).

As the guest bed is in what will be the new baby's room, I like to imagine having this nice big quilt to cuddle up with/collapse under during the long winter nights of newborn nighttime fun. The calming colours -- greys, whites, a touch of turquoise -- seem perfect for creating a little calm when sleep is in short supply. It'll be a Lotta sleep, if not a lot of sleep.

Now fully-quilted with many many long, straight lines, I have yet to add the binding, but have in mind a scrappy modern binding of black dots, IKEA houses, and a touch of red (well, there needs to be some red in there somewhere!)

Deadline: December. Though we'll see if I can keep myself from using the quilt before that -- how nice it would be to save it as a special you've-just-had-a-baby treat, but then what a waste of cosiness to leave it unloved for all those months!

{annual summer knitting}

Every year, as it gets hot, I'm overcome by the illogical impulse to knit a thick and woolly blanket. In 2010, it was a little faded pink, basket-weave project for Tilly. Last year, it was a gigantic patchwork throw for my sister, Alice, to take to university. And this year, I bring you the grey stripes -- a baby blanket for our forthcoming little winter elf.

Though the knitting is now all finished -- happily, it worked out that I could cosy up with it while in chilly England this May -- all those stripes means a few dozen ends to weave in. And end-weaving-in is top of my list of unexciting projects. But hopefully by December, it'll be ready to wrap around a new little person... you know, if Texas temperatures ever decide to drop down to blanket-wearing weather!

{it's raining letters}

You might have noticed, we've gone a bit alphabet crazy around here. Two weeks ago, I was grumbling my way through Elmo's utterly incoherent volume of ABCs, when Tilly suddenly pointed to the letter A and said "A". In all the surprised cheering and dancing that following, we must have happened upon an ancient tribal rain dance, because suddenly letters started pouring from the ceiling...

... drenching Tilly's room in learning goodness, with a pop of colour.

So far, she's got "A" and "O" down, and with a bit of prompting can show you the "B" and "Q", too. What, you're meant to learn them in order? 

And by the way, this is the new paint job we finished back in the autumn that I never put up photos of.

Greyish.

That's really what it's called -- nothing about moonbeams, thunder or stone. It has the most amazing power to make the room lighter when you want it light, darker when you want a certain someone to go to sleep, and is just warm enough of a colour without having any tint of anything. So, phew, all those hours of staring mindlessly at paint samples taped to the walls weren't in vain.

And since we're doing a bit of a room tour, here are two prints I framed and hung above the changing table.



If you've ever met (and, therefore, been roared at by) Tilly, you'll know that she's all about the animals (seriously, she was making monkey noises for months before she bothered to learn to say "mama"). So, I tried to find as many animals as would fit onto two A4 pieces of paper. Would you believe, her favourite is the shark, and she sings the music from Jaws in his honour -- duh dun, duh dun...

{a community quilt}

Last night, as the clock struck twelve, the last of the tea was drunk, the final ginger-chocolate-chip biscuit was scoffed, and the 130th square was slipped into place on my living-room floor. The enormous grey and yellow geometric pattern is a first effort at community quilting -- quilts made with donated fabric, by volunteers, for local people in need of bedding. 

You can read more about the project, and get involved, here.

P.S. Anyone else imagining a bumblebee? You know, the modern sort of bee, who's strictly about organic honey, wears waistcoats, and comes home to a minimal, Scandivanian-style hive? 

{write on: an easy handmade gift for men}

I'm rubbish at thinking of presents for men. And men who don't use electronics are even more of a challenge. What can you make them a cover for?

Inspired by my friend Terri's crayon rolls for kids, this grown-up version gets its modern style from all the grey felt accessories I keep seeing this year, like this glasses case. With a little personalisation, it makes a lovely gift for the writer (or crossword-puzzler) in your life.

Want to make one yourself? Here's how.

Materials:

Grey felt

Small strip of twill tape (to stamp on)

Rubber stamps and ink

Thread

From the grey felt, cut two rectangles 8" by 12", and one rectangle 4" by 12".

Onto a 3 1/2" strip of twill tape, stamp the lucky person's name using permanent ink (I use StazOn). I couldn't bear to pass up the rhyme for my granddad, Kenneth, and I hope that if you've got a Ben, Glen or Sven in your family, you'll make them a pen roll, too.

Sew the twill tape along one short edge of the small felt rectangle, using a zig-zag stitch around the edge.

Pin the small felt rectangle to the bottom side of one of the large felt rectangles, lining up the edges. Make sure your twill tape label is visible. Sew straight lines, using running stitch, across the width of the small felt rectangle, about an inch apart. These will hold the pens in place. Sew a couple of backstitches at the start and end of every row, to prevent the stitches unravelling.

Tip: Between rows, lift up the needle and foot, but don't snip the thread -- just begin the next row. You can go back and do all the snipping later, and save time and thread.

Place the two felt rectangles that you've just sewn together on top on the third rectangle. Place a large elastic band (hair ties work well) in between the two large rectangle layers, half way down one of the shorter sides. Pin in place, so that a good 1/2" of elastic band is hidden inside.

Sew all the way around the outside edge of the roll, making sure to go through all the layers and the elastic band.

Now fill it with pens (or a single, special pen), and roll it up, starting with the end without the elastic band. Slip the elastic over the top of the roll, and you're ready to go!

P.S. In need of other gifts? Check out CMP's and WV's Holiday Gift Guides, and see if you can spot some familiar (Polaroid-framed) faces...

{most of a part of a bit of a quilt}

Roaming the pinboards for inspiration, I stopped short when I saw this piece of patchwork, from haven. 

I've been wanting to use some of the old quilt scraps that Justin's grandma gave me to make a new quilt -- to take some of that beautiful hand-stitching and not just recycle it, but take it back to its old life a little bit. And maybe transfer some of that seventy-year-old magic to my slightly more modern choice of fabrics. Red, white and grey -- the official sponsors of Christmas 2011.

Can you spot the antique?

(No, Justin's ten-year-old shirt doesn't count!) 

Happily, my giant pile of "nice fabric" old clothing is shrinking down to a single box. The lid doesn't quite fit on it yet, but we're getting there.

Also in the mix: a pair of baggy Thai trousers from our honeymoon that never quite looked as hip once we were back in America, mikodesign's lovely russian doll fabric, a great stash of red fabrics from my Mum, a rather more revealing top than I'd ever like to admit to wearing, and a couple of those $1.99 a yard! fabrics I see now and then at Walmart and can't resist, though I don't know what to do with them.

Of course, even after cutting and piecing six king-size rows of strips, the whole thing is looking a little short. Wrap it around yourself on a chilly morning and you'll have some frost-bitten ankles. So, back to the cutting board for now...

{oh happy grey}

Just a little note to say hello. And that we haven't fallen off the face of the globe. It has been painting week here, and we've been busy to-doing, unscrewing, spackling, de-crackling, stirring, concurring, drilling, filling, second-coating, and then doting on Tilly's newly grey room.

No photos of the actual room yet -- Tilly is in bed woofing (hopefully a pre-nap woof) -- and so I'll give you a couple of photos of rooms I'd pinned for inspiration. And yes, patient Pinterest followers, all of the pins simply titled "grey walls" will now stop, I promise. (Well, until we do the kitchen...)

1. Buymodernbaby 2. The Good Report 3. Tarpapercrane

P.S. Thanks to all of you who are joining in with the Advent Tea Swap! It's now closed, but if you'd like to arrange a swap of your own with family and friends, I'd be happy to share a tip or two if you drop me an email.