The fun in function

Came a long way to get derailed. 

Machine pieced, front and back and edges with monkey tongues. I had a lot of them just hanging around from some long ago project. 

Sandwich making - getting the layers together evenly - took a very long evening. 

This morning I sat there looking at the Janome for ten minutes trying to remember the setup for free-motion. 

                        Tip~Life is short, ask for help~

 And there it was, under the front edge of the table, a hole that Jim drilled through the wood frame giving me access to the sliding mechanism that controls the feed dog. He sanded the edges of the hole so I wouldn't get splinters, bless him.

The "clunk" of the shift was so familiar. Did I have a free-motion foot? No. Hmm. Did it really matter? Tinker here, tinker there. Shit was not happening. 

Oh well, fall back to straight topstitching. Reset. And fail. Feed dogs would not re-engage. All indicators point to an overdue trip for service/repair.

Let's see how hand quilting feels. Two+ layers of commercial print cotton and a quarter inch of Warm&Natural cotton batting? The best I could manage was about five brutal stitches to the inch and I have tough hands. Hand quilting is out of the question.

Tomorrow, I'll saddle up the 99K and see if I can get this project off the deck. I have faith in Singer. 

 

The turn

This one is all mine.

Have you ever dropped into a curve on the highway faster than safe?

 Maybe you were taking in the view or your mindscape had your attention and, in a split second, you had to react to avert disaster. 

Or not.

Ten and two. Steady. Hold Steady. 

No braking. 

Power through it, just enough. 

You made it.

Keep rolling 

 

Fail, give or take

 

A few minutes ago I spent an hour ironing this tablecloth. The intention was to build a winter robe. Long ago I learned the hard way that old damask can harbor weak places that don't bode well for garment making. 

I measured, made my mark, and a small cut in preparation for a big rip across the width. 

In the middle of the tear, that straight line took off in opposing diagonal directions like a bolt of lightning. 

Failed the garment test.

The only way to describe the color that flashes across this cloth is Opalescent.

Opal is my birthstone but I've never had one for very long because they are so fragile. So happy birthday to the stitching world, this opal cloth is now stirred into the scrap bin. 

And Liz ! Now I know where I got the curl I put in so many of the hearts.

Mostly reflexive

 

I'm just the recipient of these two shots. Colin keeps strange hours in wide open spaces. No mention of any drones or UFOs yet. 

He put this nativity set together for the neighbor (who likes the solar Christmas lights still up on my mailbox from last year.) It came with a timer and I was watching when sundown triggered the lights. I thought she was barbecuing Baby Jesus & Co. It's ablaze with lights and has made her so happy. 

I have been spending more time with my main characters. Building them into scenes that have to fit like a good jigsaw puzzle. 

And let us not forget the spectral influencers, Sam and Hope. 

And the other book, the Monkeytown Murders, is growing a plot like moss on a log. 

There will be a lot more writing.

I have just about used up all the cottons - dyed and commercial prints- on a two-sided quilt. I'm guessing it's 60x56. 

Now to find a place with a floor big enough to lay it out, batt & baste it. Hardwood or vinyl. 

When we lived in New York I built a king-sized quilt on the floor of the gym after school hours. Thinking about that makes me tired.

Sometimes the backside is more interesting than the front. That tells me I should try painting again. 

This is all machine pieced, of course. And I plan to free-motion quilt it with a special selection of text... in cursive. I might get it done by Christmas.

Thread ends

 

Wish I could recall where I first saw this mending technique. It's always been fixing holes or covering stains on knitted things and always a beautiful "save" of something beloved. 

Here I'm covering up places where the warp or weft is worn away. The generally good condition of this vest made me suspect these few odd places were sanded to mimic wear and tear like the jeans with the thighs rubbed pale. Stupidest fashion take ever, in my opinion. Always made everyone look like they were wearing salami skins. 

I made a point of not sewing the pockets shut. How annoying would that be? 

And somehow, none of this repair is in keeping (beyond the colorways) with the flying eye on the center back. 

Thanks to everyone who ordered thread sets today...I'm off to the post office with them now.