Anna Scott Graham's Blog, page 21

Necessity is the mother of....

 

Thanks to my better half for photo op assistance.

Getting something accomplished. Invention too, but in this instance, four rows of my Lavender quilt are now stitched together, mostly for the large triangles I needed for another project.

LOL! This quilt has been around for at least three years, maybe four. It dwells in a tote in the living room, patiently waiting its turn in the queue. For the last few months I've pulled out that plastic box, rummaged through blocks made up of four-inch triangles and two-inch half hexagons, realizing I had nearly enough blocks gathered to start the putting-together process. Yet the Cornflower quilt edged out Lavender, other shinies always relegating this beauty back to its spot near the sofa.

Well, until I decided I needed YET ANOTHER PRETTY, which requires lots of four-inch triangles. Hence Lavender stepping onto the sewing stage, and now about a third of it is completed, assuming I make this quilt a dozen rows in length.

Lately this is how my creative life has emerged, in a scattered but lovely manner, unplanned yet cohesive. I wholly enjoyed designing which blocks went where, at first adding the proper half-blocks to the ends of row one, using whole blocks for row two, then reverting back to half blocks for rows three and four. And now that I have plenty of large triangles and half-hexagons popped from their previous sleeves, I can cut in half those shapes so I can make more half-blocks for the ends of further rows. Yay!

An impending holiday will intrude on Lavender's immediate progress, yet when I come home, more stitching on this quilt could very well occur. There's no bending of papers in attaching rows to one another, merely straight forward stitching that requires just a little niggling to make the corners meet. This quilt isn't slated to be gifted soon, but maybe that will alter. Perhaps this year heaped in slow stitching is meant to wrap up projects itching for their moment in the proverbial sun. I'm not going to question it, only enjoy the process and the emerging beauty. And wonder if when I'm done, will Lavender end up like Cornflower, quilts I hope to stitch again if time permits.

Future Me isn't saying, but I know that gleam in her eyes. Hehehe, she seems to giggle, as pretty fabrics call my name.

One of the most beautiful songs

Sunset on Mum's last day, June 2018

Around the northern hemisphere summer solstice, I get a little introspective. My mum died six years ago at this time of year, and even now I still miss her, maybe I always will. Better that one's parents go first certainly, but she wasn't even seventy, shite!

Recently the band Camera Obscura released an album, their first since 2013 and the first since their keyboardist Carey Lander died of osteosarcoma in 2015. My husband put the digital files on my computer and yesterday I listened to some of the.... It's not a record, like in vinyl, but Look to the East, Look to the West is an album, and on it is "Sugar Almond", the tenth of eleven songs, a tune Tracyanne Campbell wrote for Lander.

I'm listening to it now, Campbell's melancholy vocals enhanced only by a piano, probably played by Donna Maciocia who was brought into the band for a gig alongside Belle and Sebastian in their Boaty Weekender cruise. Maciocia became Camera Obscura's new keyboardist, as well as providing backing vocals as Lander had. Carey Lander was thirty-three when she passed.

In Tracyanne's haunting yet uplifting song, Lander feels still alive, perhaps like how my mum seems vibrant, if missing. Where did these women go, far too soon for the likings of all who loved them. I believe Mum's with my dad in heaven, and I guess I think Carey is there too, but probably not hanging out with my parents, unless heaven is like that, slips of memory or whatever we become flitting just past where we corporeal slugs can grasp them so tightly, they would never be lost.

Maybe that's all life after death is, floating around where they can't be seen, except at certain times of the year, birthdays and deathdays belonging to them, and to others tugging on our heartstrings.

Because in "Sugar Almond", a little part of myself warbles along with Tracyanne. While I won't proffer lyrics in this post, they can be found here. Please give them a read, they're truly amazing. And if you can, listen to the song, the notes of which pop up and down like how it is when moving on from someone so beloved within your life. Even six years later I'm a little maudlin, especially on a gray day as Humboldt is giving us today, a day the same colour as Carey's eyes, according to Campbell, the same hue as a Glasgow sky.

Before I forget

The whole enchilada!
 

Here's a quilt I made, love, and would enjoy sewing again if time, energy, and the right fabric collection all align. The Seedlings Sampler quilt, designed by Jodi Godfrey, my version pictured above, based upon the fabulous Literary collection by Heather Givans.

Elderberry Quilt block

These shots were taken last month at my eldest daughter's home. My youngest granddaughter needed a cozy, and her mum brought out this fave blanket. I snapped it while cuddling with said grandgirl, pondering many things.

Yarrow Quilt block

How nice it is to snuggle with a beloved.

How lovely that when a quilt was required, my daughter offered this particular one.

How marvelous it was to create.

How blessed we were at that moment to be together.

How much I wanted to write a post about this comforter, but it took me a few weeks to do so, lol.

Feverfew and Cornflower blocks

This quilt was planned in September 2019, and I began stitching during Jodi's sew-along the following month. I worked on it during our trip to England, the first we took since leaving Yorkshire in 2007. I stitched throughout the end of 2019, then into 2020, and completed it just as Covid locked down this nation and others. Fortunately I was able to give it to my daughter right before everything altered, but I don't think of this quilt in relation to the pandemic. I consider it as the perfect answer to a fabric collection I bought in honor of my daughter's love for books, and how well I pulled off a sampler heaped with scraps and so much love.

Rosemary blocks in the sun and shadows

Sometimes the planets do align. Sometimes I get all my ducks in a row. Sometimes a group of fat quarters loiter within my stash, then are pulled out for a project like this, several designs arranged in a marvelous manner, sewn together by hand and machine. And sometimes a grandchild is chilled and needs a special cozy. This abuela pulls out her phone, snaps some shots, then writes about it weeks later, grateful for how technology and old school ways blend for a Tuesday blog post.

Myrtle block also in the sun and shadow

Sometimes that's all it's about, this strange, lovely collection of time we call life.

Loads of playing around

 

House rules call for Free Parking to be more than a quiet resting place.

Last week I visited my youngest daughter's family, helping out while her hubby was away on business. The weather in the Sacramento Valley was HOT for the first three days, and while later on we went to a park, splash pad, and pool, for the first few days we stayed inside and indulged in a different kind of entertainment: card and board games!

Fortunately my grandsons love games, especially the eldest. Crazy 8's and Go Fish have been staples of his childhood, and his younger brother got in the act, learning the basics of Go Fish and how to deal, hehehe. Board game-wise we enjoyed Junior Scrabble, Life, Carcassonne Junior, Yahtzee, Battleship, and finally managed to squeeze in a game of Monopoly, National Parks version, pictured above. My youngest grandson wasn't a participant of all those games, but many, and I was so pleased he's taking an interest in card games. A deck of cards will never run out of batteries, lol!

A friend of mine came to visit and taught us how to play Kings in the Corners, a Solitaire-type of card game, which quickly became a family favourite. I played one round of War with my eldest grandson, which he won, haha, but like Monopoly, War can stretch out for maybe longer than necessary. As I kid, board games figured heavily for pastimes, card games too, so it was great to reinforce those elements when stuck in the house while the temperatures soared outside. 

I'll be heading to the Midwest soon to spend time with family, the granddaughters along for that adventure. I left behind the pack of cards with the boys, so another will be tucked into my hexie box, just because you never know. Now it's time to settle back into my routine, savoring memories that hopefully will be rekindled soon!

Cornflower Quilt

My beautiful Cornflower quilt is DONE. This quilt was sewn by hand, except for attaching the front of the binding. I also machine-stitched the perimeter's edge. The rest was an English paper-pieced effort from my fave designer Jodi Godfrey.

Initially I made these blocks while stitching the Seedlings Sampler quilt in late 2019-early 2020. After that project was completed, I made a few extra blocks, but didn't plan on making a full Cornflower version until perhaps 2021. Then blocks were fashioned as I worked on other projects until it became obvious how much I loved making this particular design.

I enjoyed it so much that I enlarged the quilt, adding an additional row. I haven't measured it, but it's definitely a rectangle, and plenty long to snuggle under lying down.

Strangely enough, less than ten days ago I thought completing this wouldn't occur until perhaps summer's end. I wasn't in a rush per se, although I was tired of it taking so much space on the sofa. I wanted it done before autumn, which was a perfectly acceptable timetable. Then I found myself working on it instead of stitching other things. And suddenly a few nights ago the last hand-quilting stitches were woven through the quilt sandwich.

The binding is always last, whether I've made it previously or whip it up once all the quilting is over. I had to make this quilt's binding, but the strips were waiting. The end came as suddenly as how the hand-quilting emerged, as though after so many months this wasn't actually a long-term project. Since this photos were taken, I have washed it, lain under it, and admired it fully. Forty-two blocks later, it's finished.

As an aside; when I ordered it, I requested that instead of the small pieces which make up the adjoining four-inch squares could whole four-inch squares be substituted. When I received the kit, Jodi noted that swaps within kits weren't possible, but for free she threw in enough four-inch squares, bless her heart! Thanks Jodi for the design; it's one I'm hoping to make again someday.

All the things later realized

 

Not to give away spoilers, but in revising The Timeless Nature of Patience, the sixth Alvin's Farm book, I was stunned to find how much of my family's history was included.

Veiled yes, but pertinent. Especially in the wake of my mom's passing, which occurred six years ago on the upcoming solstice. 

What I realize now, a good dozen years after I wrote the above passage, is mostly due to what Mom told me shortly before she died. How she prayed for all of her kids to not make the same mistakes in life she did.

What's especially poignant is that three of us five weren't her biological offspring, me included. Yet she thought of us as hers, although my natural brother disliked her intently. Much as Tanner hated Alana, my brother Joe loathed our stepmom.

She knew it, loved him anyways. When Mom shared her insights, she didn't differentiate between her natural children, her sons, her daughters. We were five, although Joe was dead by then. Yet she still loved him.

When I wrote the prose above, Mom was still alive. She was Alana, perhaps I couldn't fully acknowledge that. But she was, and only now do I grasp the wonderful Mom she was, and how her prayers to this day affect our lives. Prayers that she could not apply to herself, in hoping we would return her affections. She didn't feel she deserved our love because of mistakes made, which to this day haunts me somewhat. It used to torture me more, but again, she's still praying for me in the best possible place, and through that love, my regrets have diminished.

I don't know if I'm a writer because all this forgiveness needs to be relayed, maybe I am. So many things to consider as I age, as time passes, as pain fades away.

So much love to be grateful for, and to pass along.

Cornflower quilting around

 

Edging the perimeter is a slow process, but very rewarding in the overall sense of almost being done!

Literally less than a week ago I mentally decided if I didn't get my Cornflower quilt done until late summer, I'd be happy. As long as I had it in time for autumn, woo hoo.

One more of the edging process because the fabrics are so pretty, lol.

Two days ago I finished the hand-quilting. I hadn't planned on it, but late in the afternoon I sat down to stitch and whoop there it ended. I hauled it upstairs, because it required perimeter stitching, a binding made, then attached, but wow, suddenly one great big task was over. Meanwhile I had started machine quilting a new comforter for my husband, and assumed the Cornflower quilt would wait patiently for its turn at the machine.

Perimeter sewing DONE!

Yesterday slipped away with no machine sewing whatsoever. I've been reading the last book in the Alvin's Farm series and spent most of my free time with that, sincerely enjoying the story and the memories of when I wrote it. It was like reliving my noveling past and who I was then, all within one tale.

I used seven strips for the binding, all from this particular print in four colourways from Tilda Bloomsville.

Fast forward to this afternoon, post-lunch. Suddenly I had all the necessary Cornflower quilt impetus necessary; first I ran the perimeter of the quilt under my machine, firmly securing the hand-stitched edge. Then I removed the walking foot, put on the regular presser foot, then sewed together the binding, ironing it smooth. Only then did I trim the quilt's excess backing and batting, then pinned on the binding, seating myself back at my machine. Within an hour the binding was on, and suddenly a project I thought would languish all summer was ready to go back downstairs so I could hand-stitch the binding to the back of the quilt; WHOA!

Trimming the excess; I do this with scissors very slowly.

I took several pictures of all of that as it happened. Somehow documenting that process seemed vital, maybe due to my tripping down memory lane via a novel, or that this hand-sewn quilt deserved pictorial documentation. Or that I had my phone handy and why not snap snap snap? 

A binding before being pressed.

Because now that quilt sits in a heap beside me, one quarter of the binding DONE. If I feel inclined after I post this entry, I'll thread some needles and stitch a little more.

Attaching the binding; oh my goodness I like this Tilda print!

Making a quilt is meaningful to me, about as snazzy as finishing a novel. Completing a HAND SEWN English paper-pieced quilt is like wrapping up a series, in the publishing of the last installment sort of way. My husband asked if he should congratulate me, and I told him to wait until the binding was done. Then he can pat my shoulder and give me a hug. Well, he can hug me whenever, but don't mention the quilt until that binding is on all four sides.

After sewing the binding onto the front of the quilt, I press the binding flat so it's easier to fold to the back. Plus I find any loose strings that sneak out in the process.

Yet I needed to write this mostly because I truly didn't imagine this project's end happening this week. Or this month. And here it is, almost. This beautiful quilt that has been a couple of years in the making is nearly done.

One mitered corner looking so tidy!

Yay!

No regrets

 

After thoroughly checking every block of my Cornflower quilt, I have finished the hand-quilting. 

That element is DONE.

I did find three small sections I'd forgotten. Stitch stitch stitch....

What I thought was the last block until I found the incomplete sections, lol.

Stitch stitch stitch. So many stitches, so much love.

I told my husband this quilt is for us, the first English paper-pieced comforter I've made that hasn't been for someone else. I also told him if someone likes it, I'd gladly give it away.

So then I can make another, haha.

But for now it's ours, and I love it. I loved choosing the prints for each block, basting the papers, sewing them together. Making this quilt was indeed a labour of love.

Next up is machine-sewing the perimeter. Oh, and making the binding, then attaching it. When those steps are accomplished, I can't wait to share the completed quilt!

Meanwhile.... Here's another finish, a baby quilt. Happy week everyone!

Some regrets

 

Said quilt top prior to basting; hopefully it will be better featured once it's done.

But only a few; I never did get around to snapping pics of the latest quilt top on the laundry line. Now it's basted and well.... Hopefully tomorrow I'll get it under the machine for some quilting, then sit with it on the sofa for some hand-stitching. That's the plan, but certainly subject to change.

I am taking seriously this semi-retirement gig, in the letting things languish department, or not getting quilt tops photographed as I would previously have done. What's more, I am not at all bothered about it; regret might be just a little strong to describe my feelings. Other activities have emerged, like making playlists for my music player on my phone, reading through Alvin's Farm books and making small edits, then uploading those revised versions onto Smashwords. I cooked a pork roast for lunch today, after yesterday griping at my husband how I don't like to cook. I've been cooking since I was fourteen, and now, fifty-eight, I'm just not into it. Thankfully my better half loves cooking, but I need to take my turn every once in a while.

LOL.

I've also been good about reading a couple of chapters of The Hawk lately, yay! I've reached a turning point in the saga where everyone's lives go haywire, not that I plotted out all that hand-wringing from the start, but sometimes storylines go off the rails and not always for the worst. 

Sometimes quilts do that too, like the comforter I'm making for my husband. It's been basted for, um, several weeks, lying in a heap on the far corner of my sewing table aching for its turn under the presser foot. Before autumn, I promise, sweet quilt sandwich. I swear!

Before autumn I hope to be writing Book 5 of my current series, but if that doesn't happen, I'm not going to fret. Well, I might frown. But honestly, semi-retirement means pulling up the brakes a little. I'm still not completely comfortable with a slower pace, but I am thoroughly enjoying practicing, hah! Well, mostly thoroughly happy. A few niggles remain, mostly in my own mind when thinking of all I want to accomplish. Future Me has been VERY SILENT in this process, while Past Me is too absorbed in her own thing. Which leaves little old Present Me to muddle about with learning how to relax. To read for pleasure (mostly). To know that quilts and books will find The End at the appropriate hour.

And that maybe, if we do get a bit of rain this weekend, I'll finally get around to weeding the irises. Uh-huh, sure I will. Insert winking emoji HERE!

Seeing through new eyes

 

A screenshot from this morning's revisions of The Hawk.

Coming home, even from a brief absence, usually proffers an altered vision. That used to not be the case on a consistent basis, but lately I've found even a weekend away brings insights not previously considered. I don't know if it's aging, I guess it must be. Suddenly I see things, from writing to sewing, in a different light.

Perhaps it's the light itself, altering from spring to summer, adding to the emerging notion of change. The lengthening days are a beauty in themselves, as though the winter months were fiction. I know better, lol, but it's still a sight to behold.

Currently I'm reading from the Alvin's Farm series, not having checked out those books in a while. I make notes where I find prose that needs a lift, then last night I scrolled through the story on my phone, updating the manuscript. I'm not alone in this task, recently reading about Alice Munro, the Canadian short story author and Nobel prize winner who also invested her time in rewrites. I was grateful to know such an accomplished writer felt the need to revise, and that perhaps she enjoyed her own work as much I do mine.

While rereading my books, I'm both amazed at my growth as a writer, as well as keeping the perspective of not ravaging older stories, leaving them mostly for what they are, steps on my authorial journey. However I did use my virtual red pen this morning while reading through The Hawk; all the redundancies in the Alvin books spurred me to eliminate those in a series I am hopefully revising for the last time. While I love the story line in The Hawk, its length makes me hesitate to consider a future revision. Although, if I live as long as Munro, who knows?

Part of the ease is modern technology; I read on my phone, make notes, then scroll through the ebook, correcting the manuscript. How simple is that? I'll be away from home in July, visiting family in the Midwest, and am uncertain if I need to bring my laptop. Hanging out with my granddaughters doesn't allow for heavy revisions, so The Hawk will stay at home. But reading through other books and making notes will occur, and I only require a phone for that. Modern technology is a boon for twenty-first century writers, and I'll use all the help I can get.

Yet at the end of a writer's day is the necessary sense of wanting to tell a story, and wishing for said tale to be as interesting and vital as one's ability permits. I made great strides from when I crafted Alvin's Farm to The Hawk, and I am not at all interested in restructuring the former series, although it could certain benefit from extensive alteration. Those benefits would merely be cosmetic; that collection of books needs to be left mostly as is. I'd never get anything new written if I delved too deeply into my older stories, so best to use my time wisely. I'll revise what most requires it, enjoying the stories for what they are and who I was when crafting them. Then harness those lessons into my current series, of which I am eager to return to.

Just a little snapshot of my life as a writer, all done for pleasure and that I honestly don't have a choice in the matter, lol.