There and Back Again

I drove all by myself to the AQS show in Syracuse today, met my swap partner Liz from the small quilt swap (and her friend, The Other Liz), and drove myself back home.

'Yeah?' you're saying...

A little background:
1.  I learned to drive late in life, and most of my driving experience is in rural areas.  Not cities.  City driving, what little I've done, has frequently made me cry.  Just thinking about city driving can drown me in a vast pool of anxiety.
2.  I have no sense of direction.  Literally, none.  I have not only ended up in the wrong city, but in whole other states.  I have to establish a path to places I go, then never ever ever deviate from that path because I will get lost.   Trying to find new places can be fraught with, you guessed it, anxiety.
3.  I am extremely introverted, and shy to the point of being broken.  I have to really work myself up to talk with strangers.  (Even on the phone...)

So read that first sentence again, knowing what you know now, and see that I faced a Perfect Storm of terrors today, and survived.
And had a good time in the process.
Both Liz and The Other Liz were really really nice and not scary at all!  It took less than 5 minutes of hanging with them to feel like I'd known them forever, and I haven't laughed that much in a long time.  Lovely ladies the both of them.
I managed to find my way into and out of the city without getting lost.  And I even parked in a parking garage.  (A first!)  You have no idea how scary that was...

And I saw fabulous quilts!  I've only begun to process some photos, but I'll share a few.
I went back and looked at this quilt at least three times:

I wish my photos really did justice to the colors.  They were literally breath-taking.  And the workmanship was jaw-dropping.
A close-up of the label (and part of that border!):

And just one of those gorgeous blocks.

I'd been thinking for a while that I'd like to make an applique quilt, and this quilt may have been the tipping point.  All that luscious color on a red background makes resistance futile.  It's been years since I've done applique, but I'm now tempted enough that I bought a pattern at the show.  Though the quilt I'm planning will be a wee bit smaller than that 'Funky Garden on Red' - the finished blocks in the pattern are 4.5" square.  Lots of pretty flowery blocks, but in a manageable size.

Like I always say, Go Small or Go Home.

Well, it's getting a little rainbowier

'Tis so a word...

Angela over at so scrappy asked for a mid-year Rainbow progress update.  Since I just started last week, this won't take long!

Here are my first four Rainbow Ohio Stars.

And here are a few more that I got done over the weekend.

 As you can see, I got another red one made, plus a yellow and a purple,

and I went crazy with green.   Yay, three of them!

This really is a challenge for me, since I'm trying to use ONLY the challenge color in each block.  ( I am allowing neutrals - white, tan/cream, black - just to keep from completely tearing my hair out.)  Since I'm usually trying to cram the maximum number of colors possible into each block, this is taking some real self-discipline...


And here's the reason I wanted an Ohio Star for myself so badly:

This is the completed quilt I made for the quilt swap.  Since my partner has received it, I can post it without any spoiler alerts.  I had so much fun making this that it was hard to let it go.  I realized that I was going to have to make another one, or my brain was going to itch forever.

(And my quilt from her is perfect!  My photos are less than ideal, however.  I want to take some outdoor pics, but it won't stop raining.  If and when it does...)

Further Adventures of the Last Lawnbender

Shortly after I last used the mower, (and it was totally not my fault, really and truly) the steering mechanism went all wonkity (design flaw, says my dad) and would get stuck in a turning position.  This was useful for mowing around trees (and around and around), or for making interesting polkadot patterns in the front yard, but it made going in straight lines rather difficult.  And though I always say, when questioned about my lawn-mowing, "I'm an artist;  I don't do straight lines", straight lines are occasionally useful.  Like for taking the mower down to The Flat.  (The thought of heading down the road in a series of big slow loops amuses me, but I don't really want to try it.  Well, not fervently, anyway.  Though on the other hand, it might be kind of fun...)
So the grass was deep again, and with the added feature of the big downed tree

and I had to keep stopping to drag branches and sticks out of the way.  Well, the ones that I didn't hit with the mower, anyway.  I'm sure the mower always wanted to be a wood chipper when it grew up.
But I want to go on record that I actually bent the entire lawn without having to call my dad to come rescue me!   (And for those who don't know me, I'm in my 60's and my dad is in his 80's.  Which just goes to prove that your kids will always need you, no matter how old they are.)

On the indoor front, here's something I meant to share earlier.  While I was assembling the last of the nine patches I needed to finish Katie's Star Patch, I found a 1.5" strip of Garfield fabric that was just long enough to make one more nine patch, with enough that I could fussy cut to get Garfield bits into each square.  This was a fabric from her childhood with great sentimental value, and I was patting myself on the back that I'd ooched out one more square with the very last of it

until I found these pieces in a box about an hour later...

 And for one more giggle, I was quilting the swap quilt (It's okay to look, Liz - you can't tell much from this photo) and realized I didn't have a marker pencil that would show up on the dark fabric.  So I did this:

safety-pinned a paper arc to the quilt, and quilted along the edge.  Then repeated that for each side of the square, then again for the other squares.
Do not try this at home;  I am a trained professional...

Ooo! Ooo! It worked! (Liz, don't look!)

After getting my hopes up and making my last post, I couldn't figure out how I'd gotten that last photo from my tablet to my computer.  (It may have involved magic.  I'm not sure.)
Until this moment!  Literally.

Liz, don't look!

Three, two, one...



Here's a photo of my swap quilt, after I removed the hideous horrible ugly-excuse-for-a border and put on a simple pretty one instead:

A little closer:

And remember I told you I'm a little bit guilty of overbasting?  Check out the amount of thread in this corner.  What's in view measures about 6"x10":

I'll probably use less thread than that for the actual quilting...

Linking with Oh, Scrap! because it's my kind of party!

And I'm adding a picture of Garden Party just so I'll have a non-swap quilt picture to put in the photo header.  Just in case Liz visits Oh, Scrap, too...

If at first you don't succeed, pretend Plan B C was what you intended from the beginning

Still no photos, so you'll have to use your imaginations.  The good news is that my quilt swap partner doesn't have to close her eyes, since she can't see the quilt anyway.  Even accidentally.
Speaking of the swap quilt, I got it basted this afternoon.  I finished the top over the weekend, then let it marinate for a couple of days to make sure I liked it, since the path to final assembly had been fraught with peril.  And cursing.  There was definite cursing. 
There was a problem with the inner border that I showed last week, in that the fabric I had planned to use was an inch shorter than the center part of the top (the part the border would be bordering, in other words), which I didn't notice until I had my rotary cutter in hand and was ready to go.  And for reasons unknown, I decided that I didn't want to just piece the border, probably because that would have been too easy.  Oh, no.  I came up with a really clever thing that I thought would be perfect, made up four border strips with the snazzy idea, and sewed one on.
And hated it.  And not just any ordinary hate - the flaming hate of a thousand white-hot suns.  I hated it so much that I set it down, went up the hill home, and still hated it even when it wasn't even in the same room with me, hate it hate it hate it.  I hated it all through supper, hated it till bedtime, hated it when I woke up in the morning.  Hated it as I was headed down to The Flat.
I was reaching for the seam ripper the minute I walked through the door, before I even dropped my keys in my pocket.  A quick ziiiiiiick!  And no more dreaded terrible horrible awful hated hated hated border.  Whew!
Now of course, the next attempt would have gone a lot smoother if I had measured correctly before cutting all four borders.  Because, you know.  Fit and everything.  But, hey.
And then, finally, while I was cutting the borders again (and starting to feel slightly worried about running out of that particular fabric), a light bulb went off in my head and I realized what I should have been doing from the beginning, and did it.  And it was perfect.
Ya know, Right Brain and Left Brain were both suspiciously quiet through this whole ordeal.  Probably off somewhere sulking after the last time.  Borders.  Yep.

So anyway, I decided I loved it in its final state, and I got it basted this afternoon.  I don't particularly enjoy basting, but that's probably my own fault since I have a tendency to overbaste.  Like I'm worried about the basting having to survive a cattle stampede.  Or an alien invasion.  That kind of overbaste. 
As I was crawling around on the floor with backing, batting, and top, cursing my aching knees and back, overdoing the basting, I found myself wishing that there was an easier way to do this.  Something that could raise the work up off the floor.  Maybe a piece of furniture.  That would be a wonderful thing.  I could invent something that would do just that, and make a fortune.
I'm thinking of calling it a 'table'.   What do you think?

Oh, hey, math

Ya know, I warned y'all that I can be a complete ditz at math.  Square roots, fine.  Find the volume of a truncated cone?  Fine.  Multiply a couple of numbers and add the sums?  Hmmm.
So, I was figuring out in this post how many nine-patches I'd need for my borders for the Starry Nine Patch (and by the way, from this moment forward, this quilt will be named Katie's Star Patch.  Because I decided.) and I doubled 15 and doubled 18 and added 4 for the corners and got an answer of 80.
And not one of you called me out on that answer?!?
Twice 15 is 30 and twice 18 is 36, and 30 + 36 +  4 is actually 70.  Not 80.
Luckily I was planning to make some extra nine-patches anyway, but still.  At least now I'll know when I'm done sewing triangles to nine-patches.  And I'll stop.  Whew.
I didn't bother to take any photos of the growing piles of nine-patches with triangles sewn to them.  They look the same as the ones in my last post, only there's more of them.
So, since I didn't actually need the center of Katie's Star Patch laid out anymore, I rolled it up and started using my Design Floor for my Garden Party, just to see how far I've gotten with it.
For a leaders-enders project, this thing is just sailing right along!

I keep a couple of hot cross buns blocks cut and lined up at all times (Though sometimes I have to work extra hard not to confuse them with the nine-patches I'm building.  Some of their construction points look remarkably similar...) and I've got stacks of orange nine-patches and squares at the ready.  I'm charmed by the fact that this is a quilt that's being built in the spaces.  It's like pulling blocks out of the air, fully formed and perfect and mysterious.  Sheer magic.
The other fun thing about this quilt is the sheer chaos of the fabrics.  I've got everything in there:  there's fabric from every decade from 1950 onward to just last month, plus some Civil War reproductions that I'd forgotten I had.

The only thing you won't find is 1930's reproductions.  And the only reason there aren't any of those in there is that I've never bought any, because I don't want to get them confused with the 1930's fabrics I have which are actually from the 1930's.  (My grandmother gave me fabric from her stash, as well as some blocks that her mother-in-law pieced back in the late 1920's or early '30's.   (When I come across them, I'll post pictures!))




And now we're at the point where Liz should close the post, because I'm about to talk about the swap quilt.


Ready?


No peeking.


(Unless you've changed your mind and really want to peek.  I'm okay with that.   Totally your choice.)


No going back now. 


Not kidding.


Five, four, three,


two, one...



Okay, here we go.  I pieced one more Ohio Star block and decided to set them on point.  (I'm just a sucker for on point.)  (You may have noticed that already.)  I assembled them with some blue squares and some madder paisley triangles.
And started dithering on the borders.  Of course.  Because that's what I do.
Here's the only mockup I took a photo of:

and a close up:

I'm going to sleep on it, but I think I like the narrow light paisley border, and then that dark blue.  I also auditioned a darkish brown with a tan ferny pattern on it, but it was sort of gloomy looking.  Gloomy isn't really the look I'm going for here.  Since the quilt group's focus is small quilts of Civil War antecedents, I'm trying to keep it in character and stifle my urges for zingy squirrely orange spiral prints, but I'm not wanting it to lean too far the other way, either.  Pretty.  That's what I'm going for.  Not gloomy.  Pretty.

Happy.  Happy works, too.





(Oops!  Forgot the most important thing!  Linking to Oh Scrap! at Quilting is more fun than Housework.  Go see all the pretties!)

Journey to Starry Nine Patch, with a brief sidetrip to Ohio

Now that the border decision has been made, the triangles and nine patches are flying along.  I had 57 nine patches left over from piecing the center unit and since I need 80 total for the borders, I've just got to sew a few more.  (For some values of 'a few'.)  (Because I'm planning to make 'a few' extras to guarantee variety, and because you can never have too many nine patches.)
And I'm madly sewing triangles to nine patches.  Stacks and stacks of triangles and nine patches.

And stacks.  And more stacks.

Since this is
mind-numbing 
slightly less interesting than some of the previous parts, I've started a small side project just to keep my brain fizzing.  (Wouldn't want those two hemispheres to get too comfy, now would I?)
And small is the key word here.  I'm in a small quilt group (that's small quilts, large group, btw) and we're doing a small quilt swap (again, small quilt, large swap).  (Adjectives are supposed to clarify things, right?  Hmmm...)
So anyway, if you answer 'yes' to all the following questions:

1. Is my name Liz?
2. Am I in the aforementioned small quilt swap?
3. Is my partner named Gayle?
4. Do I like surprises?

then you have to make a decision.  I'm about to reveal some of my work on the quilt for the swap, so if you want to be surprised, you should look no further on this post.

While you're deciding, the rest of us will look at this lovely bleeding heart that's blooming down at The Flat (which is where my sewing 'studio' is.):

Okay, everyone who answered 'no' to even one of the questions can now proceed.


Fair Warning.


Last chance...





I love quilts with stars.  (You may have guessed that already.)  Sawtooth stars, Lemoyne stars, 4-pointed stars, 6-pointed stars, 8-pointed stars, Friendship stars, Hunter's stars...  you get the idea.
A big favorite is the Ohio Star, and since I hadn't made one for a very long time, I figured it might be fun to make a small quiltful of them.
Experiments began.
I'm doing the cheating form of the hourglasses, where you just keep sewing squares on the diagonal until you end up with these:

Well, I guess it's not really cheating, but since it's so easy, it feels like cheating.  (Here's a nice tutorial, at a much larger scale than I'm working.)

I started with 2.5" squares, and ended up with 2" hourglass squares.  (Note:  I didn't use a full 1/4" seam allowance, because I wanted to see what the largest square I could end up with was.)
Then, just to be contrary, I trimmed down the hourglasses to 1.5" and pieced them into a star that finished at 3".

Right Brain was delighted.  "So cute!  So tiny!!  Let's make lots and lots!"
Left Brain was appalled.  "And so mathematical, yada yada, that's all very well, but let's be a little practical here.  Just how many fingers are going to be burnt in the process of pressing those little bitty 'so-cute' stars, hmmm???"
There's nothing wrong with practical, as long as you don't take it to excess.
So I made more hourglasses, which I didn't trim down to ridiculous proportions and made a block that will finish at 4.5", which is quite small enough, really.
Here's a picture of them side by side for comparison.

Yep, quite small enough.
I made some more:

and started playing with layouts.
Here we go again...




(And linking to 'Oh Scrap!' as usual - one of my new favorite hangouts!)