Hook 'Em, Patrick!

I finished my latest commission, a Christmas gift, at 2:20 a.m. this morning -- Christmas Eve.  Delivery is scheduled for 1:00 p.m. today.

Original design by Natalie Ford.

Pics below.  Click on images to see entire photo.

This photo by Debbie O'Shea.  Thanks!

Copyright Natalie Ford 2010

Getting What You Want

"Be careful what you ask for.  You might get what you want. [You stupid monkey fighter.]"

This typical refrain to statements that begin with, "I want..." follows most of us, or at least me, all over the place.  A year ago, celebrating an annual marker of sorts, I said of the upcoming year, "Bring it on!" If I were Sherlock Holmes and had an arch enemy, she would have begun laughing: "Mwah ha ha."  (On the same anniversary this past September, I avoided any statements that might antagonize the universe.)

So, what's the lesson here?  Never ask for what you want?  Figure out how to tap into your 90-year old self with its lifetime of wisdom before you speak?

Perhaps all of us should proceed with caution--but without becoming cynical.  Over the past month and a half, I have begun to receive exactly what I asked for.  The gifts could not be any better: a library card, many wishes to "sleep tight", laughter, requests to make plans a month from now, public displays of affection (ranging from holding hands to Facebook announcements), and countless other instances of "as you wish."  

The only similarity this instance of getting what I want has with others that have made me cringe is that the results are nothing like I expected.  I'll admit that I am sometimes terrified.  I want what I have asked for (keep it coming!) but don't always know how to accept it.  Life seems to work the other way around, usually.  I look down and think, "There's a pile of poo in my lap.  Do I really have to take time to figure out how to clean it up?"  After using up countless paper towels and taking many hot baths, I move along and attempt to behave as though I am one experience wiser.

Now, though, all the usual lessons, fraught with the threat of "you're going to regret doing this," are lined up on the windowsill.  What I need to do is pull out a duster and push them outside.  Instead of detailed analysis of every possibility, the dual meanings of every word, the possible outcomes five days or five years from now, I realize that I need to spend less time being careful.  

And, you know what?  At least for now, I don't seem to have asked for too much.  

Bring it on, baby.  I'm not always going to know what to do, but I suspect it's time to learn some life lessons about being happy and sharing experiences with someone who contributes as much, if not more, just because he wants to.  Imagine that.

Sometimes, you get exactly what you ask for, and it's one sweet deal.

Life is Like a Cupcake

Musings created during a writing activity with students calle "Life is..."

Life is Like a Cupcake


Life is like a cupcake, a concoction of ingredients topped with frosting that becomes something unique. The liner represents our beginnings – the place from which we each come. Some cupcake liners are pink; others are yellow. Still others are silicone. Each of us has a different background and upbringing, and it is this structure that shapes us into who we are.

The recipe for making cupcakes is like life’s rules. Instead of adding three eggs and beating until frothy, we follow the Golden Rule and determine whether each of our actions is appropriate for the situation at hand. The resulting batter, poured into the paper liners and baked in the oven becomes a cupcake, which is like each person. It’s size, shape, texture, and appeal is determined by which ingredients have been added to the batter.

Each cupcake, no matter how carefully made, turns out slightly different. Each of us is unique, though like cupcakes, we come in batches. We grow up in a community, a society at large, just as cupcakes come in groups of 12 or 24. In addition, the texture of cupcakes is neither liquid smooth nor teeth-cracking hard. Life isn’t either; events, situations, and feelings can be described in shades of gray, with right or wrong, true or false hard to define.

The frosting on top of the cupcake defines the cupcake as more than a muffin – it becomes dessert. The frosting is like our families and friends, the people who make life worth living. The sprinkles and cherries represent those joyous moments in life that are sometimes spread far apart. They exist, nonetheless, and make life worth living and the cupcake worth eating.

Life is like a cupcake, a combination of separate ingredients that, when combined, become rich and exciting.

Hunting Fruit Flies

For the last day or so, I've been swatting at fruit flies in the kitchen.  Just now, one joined me at the computer.  I have become an obsessed hunter, like a cat chasing a horse fly or Rainsford and Zaroff hunting one another in The Most Dangerous Game.  This morning alone, I've dedicated at least half an hour to crushing those nearly invisible buggers with my bare hands.

"Whack!"  I try again to catch one of the remaining flies, but it's to no avail.  "Clap!"  I try stopping one mid-flight by catching it between my palms.  What has been most frustrating during this early morning hunting season is that each time I kill one of the last two fruit flies and think, "Ah, ha!  Only one more," another appears.  The pesky insects seems able to clone themselves in air.

Fruit flies are annoying, yes, but this simple fact does not explain my persistence in tracking the fruit flies' flights through the kitchen, alarming the cats with the crashing sounds I make as I smack the counter, the stove top, the refrigerator door, the toaster, the waffle iron, the ledge of the sink.  I am having my own private taping of Man vs. Wild, and I fully intend to defeat the wild.  Fruit flies, watch out.  Nothing else, not even knitting, interests me right now.  It's your soul I am after.

Or...maybe, it's some control that I'm after.  Worrying about fruit flies in the kitchen and defeating them, only millimeters long, is a reprieve from the rest of the world, where I am one of billions of fruit flies.

Feathered Dragons

My role as Dragon Lady has come to an end -- the quilt is done.


"Aidan (Feathered Dragons)"
Commission
Sept. 5, 2010
42" x 53.5"


Original design.
Machine pieced.
Hand-guided, free-motion quilting.

The Vault -- Or What Can Happen When Left on My Own

Stephanie and I made an overnight trip to Austin to mark the end of summer.  I go back to work on Monday, and her sons start school the next week.  She's just posted on Facebook that what happens in Austin stays in the vault, but I'm going to tell on myself.  Keep reading -- you'll even see a Far Side cartoon.


Wednesday, we visited two yarn stores, Gauge and the Knitting Nest.  Gauge is smallish and nice with a basic selection of yarns.  The Knitting Nest is located in a larger, airy space with tons of wonderful natural lighting.  The owner was friendly and helpful -- and there was plenty to look at.  We ate dinner at a fabulous (and inexpensive) Mediterranean restaurant called Marakesh.  It's on Congress, about a block from the capitol.  Yum, yum, yum.

We retreated to the hotel to knit -- which is required when you drive three hours to another city for the sole purpose of visiting yarn stores.  Two notes: We stayed in room 908, and we didn't have any alcohol at all.


I did make a trip to the ice machine but got a bit worried on the way back because I wasn't sure about the room number.  It didn't help that my key didn't work in the door of 908.  I knocked, certain that an angry, hairy man in a bathrobe would open the door and yell at me, but it was just Stephanie.  

Interlude: 

Just so you don't get bored because I don't have pictures of the places we visited, here's the yarn I purchased while in Austin:

Undyed merino wool for spinning (8 oz)

Habu yarn (greener than in the picture) made of silk and finely spun stainless steel.  I have grey merino that I'll combine with this to make a scarf.

Two sock yarns to make a fair isle scarf.  Pattern by Kieran Foley.

Return to the Vault

In any case, yesterday morning, Stephanie went to work out and took the good key with her.  I ventured downstairs to check out the outdoor pool and decided I wanted to swim.  On my way back upstairs, I stopped at the front desk and asked for a new key.  The woman asked what room, and I said "308."  Name on the account?  I gave her a name -- nope, not it.  I thought for a while and realized I was in room 908.  The woman was not impressed.


New key in hand, I went upstairs to change and headed back downstairs to take a huge, splashy jump into the pool.  Unfortunately, I first had to use my keycard to open the gate in the (matching) metal fence.  The directions for entering the pool area were very clear: Insert card, turn handle, pull gate.  So, that's what I did.  Nothing happened.  I tried again.


Do you remember this Far Side comic?





Well, a hotel employee walked past and told me I could just reach over and open the gate from the inside.  Again, I turned the handle and pulled.  Hard.  Nothing happened.  The guy leaned over and--Ta da!--the gate flew open.  Why could he do it and not me?  He pulled on the gate......I pulled on the fence.


But wait! The story continues.  I splashed around in the pool, dried off, and headed to the restaurant to order breakfast.  I read the paper, did most of a crossword, and enjoyed a humongous omelet.  The waiter brought the check, and I wrote down my room number.  Room 908, right?


Before we checked out, I made a final run downstairs to check email and look up directions to a quilt shop (The Quilt Store -- fabulous, bright, cheery fabrics) and check email.  I also returned the ice machine on the ninth floor. When I went back to the room, I saw room 910 and assumed I was in front of 908.  I slid my keycard into the lock and saw a flashing red light.  I tried again.  Nothing.  I thought, "Really, why can't this hotel make workable keycards?"  The answer is that the hotel's guest was trying to enter room 912.  Ay ya yai.

Of course, I immediately told Stephanie what I had done, and she laughed in disbelief.  We agreed that I do need a longer summer vacation, possibly involving my being locked into my bedroom.  We then went downstairs to check the bill and make sure everything was in order.  Interestingly enough, no breakfast had been charged to the account.  There were now two people behind the counter: the woman who had made me a new key and an extremely tall man.  The man dashed into the restaurant to check the receipts.  The woman looked at me and said, "You thought you were in room 308 earlier...."  


Yep.  I did.  And when I signed the breakfast bill, I wrote down that I was staying in 308.  Whoever stayed in that room had double the breakfast charges.  The woman behind the counter was still unimpressed with me, I was giggling, and Stephanie kept reassuring the man that she had never walked on a bill.  At least not until she used her credit card to reserve a room that I was sharing with her!


As we exited the front doors of the hotel, the man behind the counter yelled, "Remember, don't drink and drive!"   You, of course, know that I had had no alcohol at all.


All I could stay to Stephanie as we got into the car was this: "Are you glad your son was a student in my class for a year?


In my defense, it's still summer vacation until Monday, Aug. 8 at 8:00 a.m.  The kids don't come back until the 18th.  I have time to get myself sorted out.


Note: I did consume alcohol in the form of Dried Cherry and Pecan Bread Pudding with Bourbon Cream Sauce later in the day.  Try it yourself at the South Congress Cafe, which serves delicious foods during brunch and dinner.  I also had a goat cheese salad, but Stephanie and I both discussed the temptation of Carrot Cake French Toast.

There's Good News and Bad News

I was getting a little saucy, thinking the quilt was finally finished because it was in the wash.  Turns out, a good washing did some un-sewing.  The applique, which was fused and then edged-stitched, came undone in some places.  Unfortunately, there's not a reasonable way to un-quilt a quilt...so I had to improvise.  I did a zigzag stitch around each of the flowers.  The stitching is visible on the back, but I couldn't think of any other alternative.

The quilt looks nice with its binding:

The quilting turned out okay.  I centered the quilted stars throughout the quilt...but didn't think to check the placement of the quilting on all three of the flowers.

The good news:  The applique is firmly attached now, and I'm waiting for the momma-to-be to get home from work, so I can deliver the quilt!

Time for a Delivery!

Fortunately, I am not pregnant and don't have an impending labor pains; however, the Baby McCarty quilt is finished and ready for drop-off tomorrow.  It's in the wash right now, leaving me to wonder if anything will unravel or unknot in the next hour or so....Pics tomorrow.

Baby McCarty

A friend will soon deliver her first child -- a daughter -- and this quilt is for the crib (or floor or car).  I had exactly one month to finish for the shower in April, but I hadn't finished quilting, so I gave Mommy-to-be this photo.   The shower was a month ago, and the baby is due in three weeks.

Now, all the quilting is done; I just have to finish tying in the thread tails (maybe 50 to go?) and add the binding.

The yellow, green, and blue squares are from a layer cake (40 10" squares, precut), and the reddish pink is scrap fabric that I have used many, many times.  The flower applique is from a book called Flowering Quilts: 16 Charming Folk Art Projects to Decorate Your Home by Kim Schaefer.  I enlarged the pattern, then fused the applique to the quilt and edge stitched around the entire flower.

That "H" Sold!

I'm proud to say that "Give Me an 'H'" sold at the school's auction for $450.  To put that in perspective, the fox terrier sold for $2,300, and the year-long guaranteed parking spot at the high school campus sold for $200.  Of course, $450 is nothing compared to the parent who paid for a new school bus....

The t-shirts in the quilt, 14 in all, are from various Hill High School events from 2007 to 2009.  The t-shirt-cutting gods were with me when I brought the shirts home.  Magically, I used all 14 shirts, and they fit together without my needing to add in additional fabric -- and the color balance worked out!


Here's another poor shot of the back.

Fortunately, last weekend, I took a photography class with Franklin Habit.  Now I have a better idea of how to make a shot like this work out.  Next quilt, perhaps?

Here are some close-ups of the t-shirts, post quilting:

Go Hawks!!!

Give Me an H! Part One

Three weeks ago, on a whim, I decided to make a T-shirt quilt to donate to the school's auction, which is this Friday evening.  Zoom, zoom, zoom...and now I am out of gas.  I've worked on it off and on, just a few days worth of work, and I have about an hour's worth of quilting left.  Perhaps I can find someone to bribe me with chocolate or a $500 shopping spree.  Or, an iPad.  That would work, too.

I used some leftover Aurafil thread to piece the quilt--Aurafil hit quilting shops a few years ago, and many people love it.  It's fabulous for hand applique, but I will never again use it to quilt something.  It's too fine a thread; it occasionally breaks and frays when I'm ripping back a few stitches.  From time-to-time, the top thread doesn't catch as I am quilting, and I end up with a long stitch -- probably just over an 1/8th of an inch long.  I've just started sewing over those stitches, which is not a best practice, but that's okay for today.

I think the back looks quite striking in person, but I haven't been able to photograph it well.  In the photos, the backing fabric is quite distracting.

Only twenty minutes left in my break.  More later....

It's Actually Finished (Really)

...er, except that I forgot to make a label to put on the back.  So, it's 99.9% finished, but my sister has it in her possession now, which is what is most important.

Actually, make that 99.7%.  G. has to use a damp cloth to wipe off some of the white chalk I used to mark the border quilting.  I have to have another quilt finished by Friday, and she graciously said she didn't mind doing the clean-up on her own gift.  

The Valedictorian

On the borders, I did two rows of free-motion feathers, which I learned from Philippa Naylor, a master quilter. Mine are still a work in progress. The body of the quilt is covered in flowers, also a design I want to improve upon.

The backing fabric is what my sister picked out for a border, but it didn't match once the quilt was assembled, so it became the lovely backing.

__________________

My sister graduated from Paschal last year, and I made (am still making) this quilt for her. I used the idea presented in "How to Make a Too Cool T-Shirt Quilt," although you needn't buy the book for the pattern if you already have a good idea of how to

assemble a t-shirt quilt. I made thin plastic templates for each possible block size (any size divisible by 4" + 1/2". For example, the smallest template is 4.5" x 4.5"; the largest is 16.5" x 16.5". Another is 12/5" x 8.5").

Andrea Funk, author of the book (new version out now), directs quilters to assemble the quilt based on the size of the blocks, but she never mentions the importance of color. I ignored her suggestion and spent a lot of time balancing color and filling in blank spots with bits and pieces from my scrap bag.

Quilts from the Too Cool T-Shirt quilt company cost $378.00 for 20-30 shirts, including backing fabric and shipping!! I did my own hand-guided machine quilting. I would charge between $500 and $750 to make another. Technology is hard to beat when you're looking for the lowest price.

As of today, I have half the binding sewn down.

(Excuse the hairs in the photos...I have to wash away what my cats left behind!)