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.

in progress: all in red

You might find it a little hard to believe, but I've never made anything completely red. Usually, I can't resist a little turquoise, a little pink, a lot of grey. So this work in progress is really something new to me -- seeing how it is still possible to create interest and movement by combing prints with solids, and mingling orangey-reds with reddy-reds.

The reds are a mixture of fabrics I've collected over the years, some passed along from my Mum, some swapped with Heidi of Red Letter Quilts in an effort to thriftily bulk up each of our red stashes, and these gorgeous Echino leopard scraps recently received from Ashley of Film in the Fridge.

Don't hold your breath, this one won't be ready for a few months; I just couldn't resist sharing this lovely pile with you -- just like a punnet of freshly-picked strawberries, no?

you are sew loved

"Feeding the people I love is a hands-on way of loving them. When you nourish and sustain someone, essentially, you're saying that you want them to thrive, to be happy and healthy and able to live well."

Author Shauna Niequist writes about her love of food, and how she has found that cooking for others is a tangible way of loving them. And though I don't often feel that way about food, that's exactly what sewing means to me. Sewing for the people I love is a hands-on way of loving them -- of keeping them warm and comforted, and perhaps brightening their day with a bit of colour. Emotion often stays concealed in the remote world of the heart and mind, but we can bring it out into the physical realm of the senses. Love is a warm bowl of minestone soup on a cold day. Love is a soft blanket to wrap around your shoulders when you wake before dawn. It's hands-on, it's communicated.

This quilt is a bit of tangible love for Art and Lylabeth -- a couple we met a week after we moved to Texas and were feeling very distant in that new-start, new-place sort of way. They showed us love with homemade cinnamon lemonade. Love was a physical space around the dining table, or room on the big leather sofa. Love was well-thumbed pages in borrowed books.

Next week, then, this quilt goes up for auction at the Salvation Army Banquet in honour of Art. You can find more details on the event here.

in progress: kite quilting

Trying something a little different on this quilt -- diagonal lines, alternating between single and double rows of stitches. It reminds me of kites -- as if what we thought was the sky were simply a million blue and white kites, flying so close to each other that we can't see the blank expanse of universe beyond. 

one red square

One-hundred-and-seven blues, whites and greys, and one red square -- this quilt top is done! It's made with blues pulled from the stash of ancient history, plus a few all-time-favourite Summersville squares, plus a little newly-acquired Bella, by Lotta Jansdottir, and of course the good old solid whites and greys.

This quilt is destined for the Salvation Army Banquet auction, coming up on May 9th. The banquet is in honour of our friend and mentor, Art King, one of the first people we met when we moved to Texas nearly four years ago, who sadly passed away last year. I wanted to make the quilt meaningful, somehow, without being fussy or cute, and in planning the design, I remembered something my granddad once told me, in reference to his watercolour paintings:

All great art has a spot of red in it somewhere.

All great Art.

Art, with his passion for the famously red Salvation Army, was the red -- a stand-out, never-afraid-to-be-himself sort of guy. Always visible, and yet able to get along with and fit into the community of other squares (!).

{a colour-study of calm}

An advert for paint played on the telly all the time while we were in England: 

A couple, newly-married, happily painting their bedroom a bright red. They close the bedroom door, and when it opens again, a second later, several years have passed and the room is now a blur of children jumping on the bed, pets howling, and the frazzled parents, with paintbrushes and a can of white paint, frantically painting over the red walls.

Last weekend, I painted our red walls grey. I painted the beige hall grey. The week before, we painted the green kitchen grey. Over the past few months, I've been sewing grey covers for our red cushions. Slowly, slowly, our home is becoming a place of peace and refuge -- a backdrop to the colour we want to add, rather than an overflowing box of paints into which we have fallen.

A few weeks ago, I found this card in a lovely shop in Bryan. "Colour Study of Whole Heartedness," by Karen Horney. Though the colours this artist chose don't capture my sense of whole-heartedness (I don't think there's even a spot of green or purple in my heart), I love the idea of conveying an abstract value or emotion through colour.

And as I imagine calmness, displayed the same way in Pantone shades, it is so much simpler. Not thirty-six shades, small and squeezed in, but perhaps simply four swatches -- a bright white, a cloudy-summer-in-England grey, a moody charcoal, and a red that sings -- each floating in white space, free to breathe. 

{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!

{brought you some red}

A few lovely reds that have been inspiring me this week. Life's not all stylish greys, you know. 

1. Wine tags by REDSTARink 2. Red-and-White Tribute quilt by Thelma Childers 3. Emily Barletta's stitched art 4. Red lighting via Design-Shimmer 5. Log cabin quilting from 1955 from A Piece of My Soul

{my creative year}

Today is for looking back. Today is for pulling out the old photos and exclaiming, "Can you believe how bald she was back then?" Today is for watching as more of the signs and turns on the path of your life come into focus, and for seeing that now, right here, is where you've been heading the whole time.

This is a little glimpse at my year, and all the things that have inspired and built upon each other in 2011.

In January, my first (and only) loaf of bread was baked, and I ate it all by myself, in one day, with vast amounts of butter. A good day.

One night in February, freezer-paper stenciling was demonstrated on my kitchen table. I was in love.

In March, I began knitting the giant patchwork blanket which later accompanied Alice off to university.

In April, the preparations for Tilly's birthday party were well-underway -- a rainbow of felt.

In May, I finished Tilly's party dress -- a vision in ruffles, a true labour of love. She wore it to Justin's cousin's wedding, and later, to her birthday party.

In June, we hammered together the world's cheapest photobooth, and celebrated one year of Tillyhood.

In July, I slowly, slowly embroidered over all of the names on the signature tablecloth.

August saw us jetting off to Denmark. All of our creativity went into entertaining Tilly on the plane.

In September, my granddad turned ninety, and we threw a bright and artistic party for all of his painting-class friends. A wobbly cupcake stand was made out of a cardboard box, and many batches of Bakewell Cupcakes were baked and pigged.

In October, Terri taught me to make aprons. One of which the Royal Mail seems to have swallowed up. Must I lose something to the postal black hole every year?

November was a blur of orders -- enough felt Polaroid frames were cut out to circle the world, enough pegs were stamped to number the stars, enough trips to the post office were made to drive me half insane.

And December, a quilt thought-up and completed and donated. And then a little rest -- a bit of sorting, a little Lord of the Rings, and tonight, a celebration of the year with friends. Hope you all have a lovely end to the year (if it's still 2011 where you are...) and see you in 2012.

P.S. Want more? Check out last year's mosaic: My Creative Year 2010

{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...

{the second annual advent tea swap}

Ladies and gentlemen, dust off your teapots -- it's time for the Second Annual Red Red Advent Tea Swap!

As the first swap was such a success, we are really excited to repeat the tradition! Last year, teas arrived from all over the world, including China, Finland, England, and America. We tried unusual flavours, found some new favourites, (as well as discovering that Justin thinks chamomile tastes like "warm urine") and loved sharing the experience with some of you.

Would you like to join in this year? Here's how it works:

What you'll need: 25 bags of tea. (20 to swap, 5 for yourself)

What you'll do: You'll be paired up with four other tea swappers, and send each of those people 5 bags of tea. 20 bags of tea will arrive for you -- paired with the 5 you kept for yourself, you'll have enough for one bag of tea for each day of advent, and a one for Christmas Day.

You can make yourself a tea wreath to display your advent tea, check out my advent tea calendars, or just keep all your teas in a nice pot by the kettle!

How to join in: Send me an email at astrid@redredcompletelyred, before November 13th, including your mailing address, so that we'll know where to send the tea!

(Note: if we have enough local interest, Bryan/College Station folks, we can have a separate swap group without the need for postage)

Looking forward to sharing a nice warm cup of tea with you this winter...

{pinterest challenge: ruffles}

This tutorial -- seen on, you guessed it, Pinterest -- was for a ruffled tote bag to take Trick or Treating. With a different set of colours, though, it was easily adapted for a new season of celebration.

Don't know how to make ruffles? You will after sewing this bag. (Note: you'll probably also have discovered how NOT to do it!) Tilly has been trotting around with ours today, and I love how it looks as if she's wearing a floor-length flamenco dress!

P.S. Looking for a free Christmas present? I'm giving away a new piece from my shop over here -- stop by, leave a comment, and win yourself an original bit of Red Red.

{a little pot of happiness}

Inside this pot is the secret to happiness.

Well, lots of different ingredients to happiness, really. From making up a batch of Nigella's chocolate mousse to slipping on my threadbare red flannel pajamas, these are the things that have the power to turn any rough day into a smooth, rich and creamy day (yes, I've got my mind set on that mousse now...)

Of course, it works best if you can build up a stock of happy little slips when you're having a good day already. Whenever you bake a delicious new cupcake, discover a favourite new place to sit and read, hear a quote that speaks to you or a great song, add it to the pot, ready to be pulled out when you need to recreate that feeling. (Congratulations to Mumford & Sons, who made it into the pot less than a week after I'd heard of them!)

And it doesn't just have to be ideas. Along with the slips of paper, I keep a couple of stones in the pot. The chalky one, I found on the beach at Mariendal in Denmark, where we stayed this summer; it carries the taste of ice cream and Fransk hotdogs and the feeling of adventure. The striped stone is from Southwold, the nearest beach to my parent's home in England, and reminds me of long, peaceful walks along the shore, with the sea to one side and the bright beach huts to the other. Like tickets to another place -- and another state of mind -- just rolling them around in my palm is like an instant holiday.

So, all you need is a pot, a jar, a tub, and you're ready to start your own...

{a spot of red in the room -- with dutch.british.love}

I'm excited to share this little series of guest posts with you -- creative minds from near and far, who have focused their ideas on red, just for us. Today, we're welcoming Jadyn of Dutch.British.Love, who has put together a collection of gorgeous interiors for your viewing pleasure, each featuring red elements. Old road signs and Union Jacks? I'm in love...

- - - - - - - - - -

Much like Astrid, I believe a bit of red brings things to life. While red isn't the main ingredient in the rooms here, imagine them without the red pieces in them and you'll see how red makes these rooms,
even if added in small doses.

{JMarx Atelier}

How lovely and vibrant are this fiery red desk and filing cabinet? Looks like such an inspiring and energizing place to work.

{Ellen O'Neill, via House Beautiful} 

This room struck me as very 'Astrid'. A white room with whimsical red chairs and a vintage British road sign? Yes please!

{VTWonen} 

I love the softer red on the painting and chairs here as well, giving this room a lively but slightly softer look than the one above.

{Canadian House&Home September 2009 issue, photography Michael Graydon} 

Just a bit of red on the pillow brings this room to life, don't you think?

{Image from MiCasa} 

Even red in small doses adds vibrancy, this room wouldn't be the same without it. 

Thanks for having me at RedRed, Astrid!

Thanks to Jadyn for the inspiration. We'll be modeling our kitchen after that gorgeous House Beautiful one, for sure! Watch out, neighbourhood road signs...

{and the winner is...}

All the names, written in chunky red marker, went into my chunky red mug...

...Justin was recruited to pick the winner...

...and, without further ado, here we have it...

Molly, please be so kind as to email me (astrid@redredcompletelyred.com) with your address, and the big old red package will be with you soon.

Thanks to everyone who entered! I loved putting together all these lovely red things, and am already starting a little collection for something similar next month...

{p.s. one day left}

This could be you:

Eyes about to light up. Giant smile. Surrounded by red red glorious red.

We're picking the winner of our big red mystery packet tomorrow, so if you haven't already, pop over and leave a quick comment. Thanks to those who already have... and good luck!

{i could make that: wishbone stitch}

If you want a sneak peek into what's coming up on Red Red, have a look at my I Could Make That board on Pinterest. It's a giant collection of all the tutorials I love, the crafts I want to try, and the beautiful products I feel confident that I could make myself.

This lovely embroidery, by the merriweather council,  is a fine example of the latter. 

Danielle's beautiful embroidered hoops are only 3" wide, though. I'm not that subtle. 

Bigger. Bigger. Bigger.

I set about making my own, inspired by the wishbone stitches, but on a much larger scale. A 15" hoop. What's that, a 500x enlargement?

Hundreds of stitches. Reds, whites, pinks, yellows, oranges.



And here it is, many hours later. Nowhere near as neat as merriweather's beauties, and much more work, but giant. Humungous. Texas-sized, you might say.

Are you on Pinterest, too? Any favourite inspiring boards to share with us? We'd love to see!