Overbooked and Underpaid: Notes from a Yes-aholic

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How NOT To Make A Quilt In 10 Easy (Not) Steps

How NOT to make a quilt.

Step 1.)

Do NOT say to yourself: "Hey, self, you know what might be fun to make, without any experience, or having taken a class, or even picking up a "how to" book?

A Quilt!

Specifically something called a "pieced top quilt" (a label you've never even heard of until after you've attempted to make said quilt.)

Step 2.)

Especially do NOT choose the design for the construction of your quilt by casually perusing some pretty images of quilt patterns and saying: "That 'Pinwheel' thingy looks pretty easy."

Step 3.)

After choosing your quilt construction pattern, do NOT dig through your giant plastic bin of A) leftover material from your sewing days in the 80's B) leftover fabric from your mother's projects in the 60's C) ancient cloth left over from your grandmother's dressmaking in the 40's, and D) various old clothes you've decided to cut up and repurpose, thereby mixing washed and unwashed, thick and thin, tight weave and loose etc.

Step 4.)

Do NOT proceed to make the triangle template (on which you will base all your cutting) out of another fragment of fabric instead of a nice sturdy piece of cardboard or plastic.

Step 5.)

At all costs do NOT cut out your pinwheel triangles casually, eyeballing them and saying: "Yeah, that looks to be pretty much the same dimensions as the other pieces."

Step 6.)

Be sure NOT to cut your fabric any old which way you can get the largest number of triangles out of one piece - blithely disregarding direction of weave and unaware of something called "cutting on the bias".

Step 7.)

When the time comes to assemble all your triangles into something called "quilt blocks", for pity's sake please DON'T decide not to measure any of the finished blocks and trim them all to the same size.

Step 8.)

After ironing all the blocks and sewing them together, perhaps it might be best NOT to pin the top to the batting and the backing (that you never 'pre-washed') with any and all straight pins you might find lying around the house. Especially the old rusty ones.

Step 9.)

Do NOT grab willy nilly whatever white thread is cheapest at the craft store - ignoring the big bank of something called "QUILTING THREAD'. Along with the "QUILTING NEEDLES".

Step 10.)

Finally, after all your hard work that has yielded, not a twin bed sized rectangle, but rather a skimpy sort of skewed trapezoid, do NOT slap a large black border onto the whole shebang, cutting across quilt blocks higgledy piggledy so that you finally have something vaguely akin to an actual rectangular bedspread.

 

Despite my many mistakes I have to admit it still looks kind of nice :-)

 For the story of how this quilt came to be, how it left my house and returned 18 years later, and more pictures click here.

 

 

 

 

A Quilt Journey

Once upon a time I made a quilt.

I made a LOT of mistakes.

(You can read about those by clicking here.)

 I don't actually remember what possessed me to make a quilt. I had never done such a thing before. (And haven't since)

When it comes to sewing I have a passing acquaintance with my grandmother's Singer Featherweight machine, inherited in 1984 and used, over the years, approximately 37 times to make a small variety of projects comprised primarily of rectangles.

Tote bags, throw pillow covers, a sort of "fort of curtains" for my boys' bunk beds, that kind of thing. (I did once make a couple of dresses - they did not fit well and have been justly relegated to a bin of mementos in the attic.)

Perhaps, because I had seen some nice quilts that seemed to be composed of patterns using straight lines, I though the thing would be easy and a shot worth taking.

At any rate I worked on the quilt on and off for about 8 months and proceeded to give it away to a friend.

"You just gave it away?!!"

Yes.

Because back in those days my husband and I made art all year long and then, just before Christmas we would threw a big party, invite our closest friends, and give it all away.

There was one small catch.

The gifts had to be fought for.

If you've ever played the "White Elephant" game or the "Dirty Santa" game you already know what I'm talking about.

For the uninitiated the game goes thusly: Everone draws a number from a hat. The first person opens a gift. The second person can either open a different gift or steal the one the first person opened. This goes on and on, opening and stealing, until the dust settles and everyone winds up with something. Perhaps not something they actually wanted. But something.

Over the years we made, and dispersed, some very cool things. In the case of the quilt, it went to a friend whose mother was a quilter and that seemed fitting.

I like to say I have never regretted letting any of these items go. And mostly that's true.

But I have to admit that there have been two pieces I've secretly wanted back.

One of them was the quilt.

It had been so long. Did she use it? Did she still love it? Was there any tactful way to ask for it?

Then, out of the blue, my friend contacted me and wanted to meet for lunch. We had a lovely "catch up" chat and she told me she was moving.

And downsizing.

And would I be terribly offended, because they really were NOT going to have much room in the new place, would I be horribly, awfully, irretrievably upset, if she gave me back a couple of things?

She turned to a backpack and unzipped and I saw the hint of red and black that meant my quilt.

I kept my cool.

I did NOT jump up and down.

But I kind of wanted to.

And now the quilt is back. And will not leave again unless it departs with one of my children or grandchildren.

And I smile when I think of her nervousness to ask if I could take it back and my nervousness to ask her for it.

And I am so thankful for friends who love handmade things.

And don't sell them for a dollar at a garage sale.

 

Hell In High Heels

Anyone out there who lives in high heels - raise your hands...

You poor dears.

I'm right there with you. 

Once upon a time I was 5 foot 2 and 3/4.

I think these days I'm closer to 5 foot 2.

Which is to say I'm short.

And when you are short you have three options -

• Live with your shortness and run around in comfy flat shoes (be prepared for cute little nicknames like "half-pint" and "small-fry")
• Wear platform shoes with thick soles and thicker heels (these went out of fashion with the 70's but do have an occasional style resurgence so you might get away with it)
• Wear High Heels

I've been wearing high heeled shoes as my default "I'm really a tall person" footwear for over 30 years now, the main big change over time having been the height of the heel. Back in my spit-and-vinegar days I wore 3 1/2 to 4 inch spikes, like the ones pictured above, but those long ago hit the dustbin in favor of more sensible heights like 1 1/2 to 2 inches. 

But I have a really bad habit - I underestimate how far you can walk in them without getting a blister.

Sometimes it's not my fault. I mean, what are you supposed to do when you are attending a formal function one minute and are being asked to trek across town the next? It's not as though you can whip a pair of Nike's out of your snappy little evening bag and slap them onto your feet.

This summer I was attending an awards ceremony in Washington D.C. that was to be followed by a reception in another location. As the ceremony concluded we were told that the reception was "just a short walk" and that we would all just "migrate over together". 

One and a half miles of torture later (through pouring rain, I might add) we arrived at our destination to find a stand-up reception. Yep! That's right! I, and several other disgruntled, high heeled, honorees, found ourselves not only trekking across the Washington Mall - complete with mud and gravel - but had no place to sit for the ensuing 2 hours.

At least the wine was available immediately. 

The kicker? The whole thing was organized by a woman!

Who should have known better. I mean, I expect this sort of thing from men in sensible shoes but a woman? Really!

We women are supposed to be looking out for one another in this department. Like the kind soul I met in Manhattan in 2006.

I was in NYC with my husband for the launch of his nationally syndicated comic strip. This was officially a BIG DEAL which meant a lot of formal meetings and lunches and traipsing around the city while dressed up.

By the end of the day I had a blister the size of a quarter on my right heel and was walking back to the hotel half in and half out of the shoe.

Step, hobble, step, hobble, step hobble.....

As we got into the elevator I had just said to my husband "Maybe I can get a band-aid from housekeeping" when a lady popped in before the doors closed.

She looked at me and asked if I had a band-aid. And I thought to myself "small world, she needs a band-aid too!" 

I replied that I was thinking of trying to get one from housekeeping when she answered "Oh no,  you just come along to my room - I've got plenty."

Confused I stared at her, still not grasping her point. "Honey, I've been walking behind you for the last six blocks - believe me, I know that walk..."

I almost fell into her arms with relief.

I now try to be prepared for any eventuality. 

So the next time you see me at a formal event, don't be surprised that I have a two gallon purse filled with Nike's and Band-Aids.

Garden Project - Painted Wine Bottles

Painted bottles in the garden

I know it seems too early to think about the garden but it's really not. Even though we still have snow on the ground and freezing temperatures, my tulips, daffodils and peonies are all poking their shoots up and crocuses are blooming. I stopped by my local gardening emporium today and optimistically picked up many, many flower seeds for this summer's garden. 

In years past I have failed at seed starting indoors and generally succumbed to overpaying for bedding plants that are ready to pop into the ground. Not this year. I'm hoping my penny pinching ways will pay off and my seeds will happily sprout.

While I'm waiting for the plants to do their thing I'm working on a garden art project. We throw a lot of parties where wine is served and, consequently, wind up with a ton of wine bottles. Last year I decided to spruce them up and add them to my garden ornamentation. They are super easy to do.

Here are my tips and tricks:

1) Remove the labels from the wine bottles. I've tried everything you can think of and, truly, good old fashioned soap and hot water works best. A small, flexible kitchen paring knife helps get the gum from the labels off the glass. Goo gone did not work for me very well. 

2) After the bottles are completely dry you just paint them. 

Here are the types of paint I've tried so far along with a rating for how well it worked:

Klutz Window Art Paint

Pros:

• lots of colors 
• dimensional quality 
• can be easily peeled off if you don't like the results

Cons:

• Colors only show up well on clear bottles - however you still get a textural quality on a dark bottle 
• Not very waterproof - they return to a jellylike state but will harden again after they dry
• Takes a long time to dry
• Will drip if not set carefully when drying

Textured Window Art Paint On Front Bottle

 

Sargent Art Glitter Glue

Pros:

• Lots of cool glittery colors that look like a party
• Dimensional quality

Cons:

• VERY not waterproof! Almost disintegrates in the rain. Best for a protected patio
• Takes a long time to dry
• Will drip if not set carefully when drying

Glitter Glue Bottles

 

Tree House Studio Paint Markers

Pros:

• Waterproof - very permanent
• As easy to use as any other marker
• Dries almost instantly
• Lots of great colors

Cons:

• HIGHLY toxic and you must work in a well ventilated area
• Getting the flow of the paint can be tricky - push the pen tip up and down many times on a piece of scrap paper to get the flow you want.

Paint Marker Bottle "Flower Power"

An overall note - all colors will fade over time when exposed to sunlight so I'll probably have to repaint last year's bottles before I put them out this year.

Here are some more examples of designs my daughter and  I came up with:

This was a clear bottle we painted with metallic paint markers and then filled with water and blue food coloring

Circus Time!

 

This bottle is actually 2 feet high. It reminds me of "starry night"

 

Bluebells and Butterflies

 

Blue wine bottles are my favorite - the light colors show up so well on them and they stand out of the garden foliage.

My Little OCD

I have a teensy obsessive compulsive disorder.

I'm a chipper.

Chipper, flaker, scraper.

Different names, same illness.

This is how it starts:

 

 

The chips tend to be in places where there is an air bubble between the two layers of paint. So, pretty soon the chip tends to have gotten bigger, like this:

 

 

Which is about the time I get out my set of flexible kitchen paring knives and set to work.

Chipping.

And flaking, and scraping.

Depending on how much grip there is between one paint layer and the next.

Which wouldn't qualify as an OCD except for one thing.

Once I start, I can't stop. 

I have been known to sit for hours flaking away. 

"Honey, are you coming to bed?"

"Just a minute - I just have to finish this section"

But of course, just at that moment, the stubborn section I have been working on opens into what we call "the mother lode".

This is when you encounter large stretches of paint that have been attached to the surface of the woodwork with nothing more than the power of positive thinking.

All it takes one well placed point of the knife and the stuff starts coming off in sheets and ribbons.

Which means that the "minute" stretches from 11:32 to 12:45.

Or beyond.

I can't explain it to you. It's like popping bubble wrap.

I just can't stop.

So pretty soon we have this:

 

 And this:

And this:

 

I think I currently have  about 22 different spots around the house that are 35-90% chipped. The bad news is that those spots look pretty awful. The good news is that, once I get each section sanded and primed and repainted we wind up with this:

 

 

It just takes a while.

So one of my fall goals is to get everything that is currently sitting in a state of partial chippedness finished up and repainted before Thanksiving.

Ha! 

Optimism!

Ya gotta love it!

Epilogue: A completely "chip free" fully sanded and painted house was achieved in the fall of 2012. Until the next chip fell....

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Curb Combing With " Phoebe"

Rescued, repainted curb find

 

 

I'm a curb comber. 

Yep - the secret to my decorating style is out. I love to grab stuff off the curb.

If you came to my house you might find yourself describing it as "eclectic". Which is a fancy word for "nothing matches". Well, that's not exactly true - I mean it’s not a higgledy piggledy mess or anything. I'd like to think everything looks as though it belongs together.

OK, belongs might be a stretch. I'd like to think everything "works" together.

I lovingly refer to my style as "stuff from dead people". Almost everything I own came from either my dead relatives or someone else's via estate sales, St Vincent de Paul or the curb.

To date, I have bought exactly one couch, two wing chairs, and a variety of mattresses that were brand spanking new. Everything else - dead people.

Well - I guess some of them aren't dead. They maybe just cleared out a room.

But many of them are dead.

I don't sweat it.

So, earlier this week I was driving along my street and there on the curb was this oak pedestal table with an enormous pedestal foot and one leaf in it.

I was driving the two door sedan and not the Mini-Van.

Dammit!

I got out and gave it a once over.

Not great as it was, but some terrific potential if I painted it. But I didn't really have time in my schedule to go fetch the van. And, honestly, my house is getting too full and I don't even know where I could stash the thing until I could get to refinishing or painting it.

I said my goodbyes and drove off.

But it nagged.

Now the only person I know who has more "projects" sitting around her house optimistically awaiting their facelifts is my friend "Phoebe". (Not her real name - she has requested anonymity which I will surely honor.)

Phoebe's garage and basement are a testament to yes-aholic optimism. We're all sure we'll fit everything in somehow, somewhere, someday, aren't we? I mean that's the yes-aholic manifesto "I can do it - I'll fit it in somehow!".

So I found myself talking to Phoebe at 10:00 on the night of the table incident.

"I thought of you today, there was this oak pedestal table on the street and - "

"Is it still there?!!!!!'

"I don't know - probably - it was still there at five this afternoon with a bunch of other stuff piled on it - "

"Let's go get it!!!!"

"Now?!"

"Yeah - it'll only take 15 minutes - come on!!!"

Good as her word - 3 minutes later she was at my house with her van. (Habitually late for concerts and appointments Phoebe can really hustle when there's free furniture involved...)

Which is how I found myself, in the dead of night, beset by mosquitoes, taking boxes and a microwave and other sundries off of said table to get a better look at it.

"Oh, darn it! It's got a fluted edge!"

"This is a problem?"

"Yeah, I hate that kind of edge. And look - it's not old."

"Well, no, probably from the 70s - but it's still solid oak...."

"No - I'm going to pass. It kills me to leave it here for the garbage man though - who does that, I mean couldn't they at least take it over to St. Vincent's?"

"Well, we could toss it into your van and you could take it over tomorrow..."

And then my friend, the confirmed yes-aholic, took the first steps to recovery.

She said no. 

This was such a personal achievement on her part that I decided to let the fact that we were going to let the garbage men take the table slide.

Besides - there were other headlights slowing down - chances are the table didn't last until morning!

Here are pics of some of my previous curb rescues - some I refinished, some I didn't, some are still waiting. Because somehow, someday - I'll get to them.

I swear.

 

Someone's old built-in linen cupboard

 

Fabulous old trunk that seems like rusted metal - I lacquered the heck out of it...

 

old chair awaiting facelift

 

Old table awaiting facelift

 
 
 
 

 

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