It Takes a Village

I know, I know... it's Tuesday.  So much for New Year's resolutions.  But I am still flossing and I do have a really good excuse for not writing a post on Monday.  Yesterday was the deadline for submissions for Quilters Newsletter's 2012 Best Christmas Quilts issue.  I've spent every free moment over the past few weeks knee deep in fabric, wool, and embroidery floss, and this past weekend and yesterday were the final push.  Now that I've made my deadline and have a moment to breathe, it occurs to me that I simply couldn't have done it on my own.

Despite having their own commitments and plans, my whole family pitched in over the weekend to give me the support that I needed to finish on time.  My husband not only brought home take-out on Friday and cooked dinner on Saturday, but he actually made the bed, cleaned a bathroom spontaneously and took the kids skiing Saturday afternoon.  Not bad!  The kids helped out by entertaining and walking the puppy, and even Casey decided to cooperate by napping during the day and sleeping until 5:00 am (thank God!).

My husband and kids were also unbelievably patient over the weekend.  They were all willing to pull their clean clothes out of the dryer or the various clothes baskets scattered around the house (although it occurs to me that one of them could actually have put the clothes away), and no one complained when we didn't eat dinner until 7:15 on Sunday or when we had to eat it on our laps because the kitchen table was covered with quilts.



As I worked, my family encouraged me with compliments and well-timed pep talks.  It's amazing how my husband's standard "You can do it!" and my daughter's favorite "You gotta want it!" can still get the job done.




 


 Best of all, my family -- as ever -- was a great source of inspiration.  Although they too were busy, they were ready to put down a book or step away from the technology in order to give me their opinions.  Even if I didn't take their advice, their willingness to discuss options or suggest ideas helped me make decisions.  When it came time to name my projects, they were more than happy to come up with ideas, and while "Luxurious Luxury" and "Star of Destiny" weren't exactly ideal, a few of their suggestions made the cut.

As great and supportive as my family is, I'm still playing catch-up today.  I've got 5 loads of laundry waiting, the floors need to be vacuumed, and the pantry is bare (for me, instead of a village, it takes a town).  And I suppose you could argue that without carpool and puppy training, hockey and homework, I wouldn't have been working at the last minute.  But honestly, where's the fun in that.  My family keeps me busy and occasionally makes me crazy, but this past weekend they made it possible and they always make it worthwhile.

Hockey 1 - Quilting 0

One is the number of hours I was able to quilt this weekend because...
Two o'clock is the hour our new puppy Casey is waking up in the morning (if you can call 2:00 am morning); and
Three is the number of away hockey games we had this weekend (by the way, we also had two home games); and
Four hundred is the number of miles we put on our cars Saturday and Sunday (thank God we traded our huge, gas-guzzling truck for a Honda Fit); but
Five... five is the number of quilt shops and/or fabric stores I discovered while driving my son all over the state of New Hampshire.

Signs reading "Fabric" and "Quilts," and a tantalizing log cabin quilt draped outside the front door of one, seemed to call out to me as I passed the stores.  I slowed the car as I drove past each, gazing longingly, visions of fat quarters and jelly rolls dancing in my head.  And the inner debate began.  Could I spare a minute to pop in??  After all, I've never been to this store before and in my experience (which admittedly is vast) a new quilt shop is like a present waiting to be unwrapped.  I haven't bought fabric since November (Christmas gifts don't count!).  And I doubt my son, contentedly playing with his iPod Touch, would even notice if I stopped the car.  I waiver for a moment, thinking I might be able to get away with 5 minutes or maybe 10 if I tied my son's skates really fast.  But alas, I don't quite trust my 6 year old GPS to actually get me to the rink on time.  And sadly, it's hockey, not a quilt shop hop.  So I drive on.  This time hockey wins.

But don't worry.  I'll be back.

New Year's Resolutions

As you may recall, my family brought home a puppy the week before Christmas.  Things are finally beginning to settle down a bit, but following Casey around trying to prevent accidents seems to be impeding my ability to focus.  Normally I try to start a new year off with a big list of resolutions complete with action plans, progress charts, and, of course, an incentive program.  But thanks to my foggy brain, this year, the only resolution I've been able to come up with so far is to floss every night.

I decided to ask my family for resolution suggestions and here are some of the highlights...

My husband's contributions were:  "Always cut on the bias" and "Make liberal use of interfacing."  While I admire his grasp of sewing vocabulary, somehow I think his heart wasn't in it.

My youngest son's suggestion was:  "Stay quilting my friends."  Great idea, but I'm a little disturbed that he's referencing Dos Equis beer commercials at 10 years of age.

My oldest son was right on the money with his idea:  "Go big and bold!"  Probably not a bad idea for me to try something other than my usual muted palette and small scale fabrics.  At least I think he was referring to quilting...

My daughter, a fellow crafter, had a couple of useful suggestions:  "Finish your UFO's" and "Wear comfortable shoes."  She also came up with my favorite idea:  "Less talky, more quilty."  Enough said.

Still searching for ideas, I approached my mother and sister.  My mom informed me that she was thinking about not buying any more fabric until she has used some of hers up.  Clearly, and much to my husband's chagrin, I'm not even considering this resolution.  My sister plans to be mindful and to record a year in the life of her family by taking a photograph a day and scrapbooking it.  As good as it sounds, I'm not sure it's possible to be mindful while raising a puppy.

So now that I've surveyed my family what are my resolutions for 2012 going to be?  Well, I'd like to train the puppy to go outside only 10 times a day instead of her current average of 20.  I'd like to exercise more, drink more water, and eat more fruits and veggies and less chips and queso.  I'd like to get organized and up my productivity -- less talky, more quilty!  I'd like to continue to write a post for my blog every Monday (oops, please disregard that today is Tuesday!).  And finally, I'd like to see what I can do about the quilt pattern book idea that was rolling around in my head before Casey came to stay. 

Ambitious?  Yes.    Possible?  Maybe.    Healthy gums?  Definitely.

Happy New Year!

Casey's latest mug shot.

'Tis Better to Give: Part 2

Well, the Christmas cards didn't happen (sorry if you were expecting one!) and I was wrapping until the wee hours of Christmas morning, but somehow I managed to finish the projects that I was making for my mom and sister AND I finished binding them before noon on Christmas Eve.  Now that they've actually seen their presents, I can finally share photos of them:


My mom's present - 12 1/2" x 13 1/2".

The pattern is "Carolers" by MH Designs.





My sister's present:  9" x 19 1/2".

The pattern is "Winter Snowmen" by MH Designs.

My mom's and sister's reactions were, as ever, one of the best parts of my Christmas and I spent several happy moments with them discussing the cuteness of the patterns, my fabric and color choices, and possible locations for displaying the quilts.  It was, as I'd hoped, wonderful to give.

My mom and sister were also feeling creative this year.  My mom made this charming miniature quilt ...



Actually my mom made two of these sweet quilts,
one for my sister and one for me.



And my equally talented sister painted beautiful signs for both my mom and I...

I love their handmade gifts because every time I see the quilt I think of my mom and every time I glance at the sign I think of my sister.  Their gifts look beautiful in my home and, as a bonus, my juices are flowing and now I'm feeling inspired to create miniature quilts and paint signs.

And I forgot to mention the icing on the cake -- my mother also gave me a fat quarter bundle of Lynette Anderson's "Secret Garden" fabrics and my sister also gave me a gift certificate to Keepsake Quilting.  I've got to be honest.  When you're getting beautifully crafted creations from people you love AND thoughtful gifts of fabric to support your habit, it's pretty darn fun to receive.

Welcome Casey

I'd like to say that the Christmas cards have been sent, the shopping finished, and the presents wrapped.  I'd like to say that I've been a quilting machine and that for once, I won't be binding on Christmas Eve.  I'd like to be humming Christmas carols and baking in the kitchen.  And I'd really like to be writing a post that is remarkably witty and subtly inspirational.  But alas, the Daly family has grown by one and today I'm running around after a puppy with a bladder the size of a thimble.

Casey joined our family on Friday.  I haven't cared for a baby for almost 10 years and it's been twice as long since I've had a pet other than our fish Jaws and Schmoopie.  After the chaos of the past weekend, I'm beginning to despair that I will ever be ready for Christmas, much less make it back to my sewing room.  But despite the fact that I'm typing this post one-handed because Casey wants to be held again, I can't deny that she is very sweet.  And of course my husband is smitten and kids are already in love.  We may not experience the peace of Christmas this year, but hopefully (fingers crossed) we'll have plenty of joy!

May your homes be filled with peace, joy, and love this holiday season.

Be Not Afraid: Part 2

Well, I did it!  After years of wanting to paint, but being afraid to try, I just finished a 6-week painting class.  Here's what I learned:

• As a painter, I make a better quilter.
• Big white canvases scare me.
• Being the only beginner in a 3-student class is very intimidating.
• Painting is hard work.
• I can not create with someone standing behind me watching.
• I can survive 3 hours a week of humiliation and still go back for more.
• Let your brush do the work.
• Painting with a palette knife can be a liberating experience.



My instructor really liked this still life of random objects
that I did with a palette knife on day 3.  He told me that I
wasn't experienced enough yet to understand some of the
good things happening in this painting.  I'm still confused.



• I babble and giggle when I'm nervous.
• I don't know who my influences are.
• Other painters are nice enough not to laugh at your creative missteps.
• If I could do it again, I would take more Studio Art and Art History classes in college.
• People can tell by your brush strokes if you are confident.  I shudder to think what my brush strokes say about me.
• Don't get too precious about your work.
• Don't think, just paint.
• Mixing paint to make the color brown is tough.
• Every painting has the color brown in it.
• Buy brown paint.

Midway through the 6 weeks, I realized that, sadly, I don't appear to have a hidden talent for painting.  There were moments when I mixed a color I liked or accidentally made an effective brush stroke, but I think painting, like any other worthy endeavor, takes a lot of practice.  With three kids, a busy life, and my little quilting habit, it may take me a long, long time to become a better painter -- not to mention, I'd still like to try rug-hooking, stained glass, the piano...  But I'm still happy I took the class.  There may not be enough time in my life to be good at everything, but hopefully there will be plenty of time to try it all.  The medium and the end result don't really matter as long as you keep on creating. 

This, at least, is recognizable,
but I still have to add the wick.

Quilt Therapy

After a weekend spent trying to squeeze in a celebration for my husband's birthday, selling Christmas trees for a hockey fundraiser, and driving my sons all over the state of New Hampshire for their 5 hockey games (yes, I'm a hockey mom), I awoke on Monday morning to chaos.  My husband was out of shaving cream, one son had run out of his flavored toothpaste, the other couldn't find comfortable pants to wear on his field trip (the horror!), and while writing a check for school lunches (one week late) I discovered that I had neglected to make note of the last 4 checks I'd written and that I had absolutely no memory of writing them.

We left the house late and had to follow a bus all the way to school only to discover upon our arrival that my youngest had forgotten his saxophone.  I did manage to remember my dentist appointment (don't know what I was thinking schedule a cleaning on a Monday morning), but during the drive there I came to the shocking realization that Christmas was less than three weeks away, that I had yet to send out Christmas cards, that I'd barely made a dent in my Christmas shopping, and that I'd made even less progress on my Christmas quilting projects.  After my appointment (and the scolding I received for not being more consistent with my flossing), I drove home for the saxophone, delivered it to the school and finally returned home to start my day at 10:30 with absolutely no energy, a pounding stress headache, a to-do list the length of my arm, and only 4 hours before it was time to pick-up the kids, supervise homework, and get to hockey practice.  Pretty standard stuff.

I managed to call my sister (I'm a master procrastinator), clean the kitchen, and start a load of laundry before the panic began to set in and I found myself roaming the house asking:  What should I do next?  How am I ever going to get it all done?  Why doesn't my family help more?!?  And then in a brief and unusual moment of clarity, I decided to sew.

The minute I plugged in the iron and sat down to my sewing machine, I could feel myself beginning to relax.  My breathing and heart rate slowed, and instead of running in circles like a headless chicken, my mind grew quiet.  As I focused on the pieces of fabric in front of me, I finally calmed down and the horrible feeling of being overwhelmed began to recede into the background.

Forty-five minutes later, the phone rang and the spell was broken.  It was time to get back to reality.  I still had more to do than I could possibly accomplish in a single day, but everything was different.  Just a few minutes of quilting had stopped the downward spiral that would probably have ended with me drowning my sorrows in ice cream and wine (post 5:00 pm, of course) after having accomplished nothing all day but talking on the phone, surfing the internet for crock-pot recipes, and plucking my eyebrows.  My little session of quilt therapy helped me to regain my footing and I was able to return to the demands of my life with renewed determination, a sense of humor, and maybe a bit of optimism.  Not bad for a few minutes of quilting.

But I still can't remember writing those checks!