Category: Assorted

I’ve finally gotten a little bit of steam up on the sewing front and have to thank you for putting up with me through the sewing slump that has been going on here lately.

I managed to spend some of the weekend on future projects, no sewing yet, just pattern work and cutting out but that is always a significant part of every job.

I made some alterations to the Fashion Sewing Group 1960 sweater set, not much, a small alteration to the shoulder line, and lengthening the top and short cardigan by 2 inches.  I had notes written on the pattern, which I had used, making adjustments on the fly as I cut, but that is always a dangerous path.  The day will come when I will read the note to lengthen and cut three pieces correctly and one wrong.  New pattern pieces are such a joy.

Of course after I altered the pattern I cut some fabric to sew up, a periwinkle cotton knit, very finely ribbed.  This will actually replace the periwinkle sweater set I made in the spring for the cruise.  I love the set but it has not held up well, less well than the other garments made from that same batch of fabrics.  I am inclined to think this is due to the severe biasing that I found in the piece of periwinkle that I used for the sweater set.  I was able to grain it up, but both pieces have to be seriously re-blocked every time they are washed.  Somehow the fabric has not worn well, probably due to the harsh treatment it must be given to make it look good.  Anyway, I will be happy to have a replacement.

I also finally finished the pattern for George’s vest.  Where I had left it off, I had fitted the last muslin and pinned a couple of small alterations, telling myself "this will be easy, I’ll remember what these pins mean".  Of course that assumption was based on the thought that I would mark the patterns soon; it has been a month and I looked at that muslin and wondered what the hell I was doing. 

I had to have George try the muslin on again when all became quite clear.  I then had to cut apart the muslin, transfer the markings to the last pattern draft.  Redraft the pattern to include all the new alterations and then alter the lining pieces to match.  It doesn’t sound like much but it took me a significant chunk of the day on Sunday.

I am ready to cut again, first George’s vest, and then a skirt I want to just whip out.  Now the problem is finding the time.  My plans to squeeze in some cutting time today were sadly misguided as It is nearly 10 and I have not gotten nearly as much done as I planned.  I could try cutting tonight, but considering that I messed up a couple of rows of Tesla at knitting,  burnt the potatoes and forgot to open the wine so I could deglaze the pan for the sauce for the Tournedos until after they were cooked, and then spilled my glass of wine all over the table, I think it is better that I stay away from scissors and all projects that require thought and planning for the rest of the evening.

Look over there, see that flash of color moving at the speed of light?  See the whirlwind of flying debris?  Books, papers, yarn, fabric; it all goes flying, spinning, unleashed in a powerful storm.  Is it a whirling dervish invading our house?  No?  Hear the stream of invective, the mutters and curses and crazy conversations?  Is it the Madwoman of Chaillot?    Do you hear the banging and clanging as furniture is upended, objects are hurled, stamping feet pounding on the floor?  Is it an escaped herd of elephants?

No it is simply Mardel.  She has lost a piece of her pattern. 

This is not the first item lost in the last two days:

First it was the double pointed needle, the precious ebony one that was being used on Tesla.  Five were in formation, working away.  The phone rang, the knitting was laid down, and upon her return Mardel found the fifth needle had gone AWOL, escaping silently into the house unseen.  Where could it have gone… only 20 feet had been traversed.  The needle was no where in between.  Under the cushions, inside the knitting bag, on the table?  No needle. In the coffee canister?  The fact that on one opened the coffee canister is irrelevant – we know the ways of missing knitting needles – anything is possible.  Despair…and then –Triumph.  Lost needle found, right in the middle of the floor, taunting its half-crazed mistress.

Next it was the coffee cup, freshly filled with steaming hot coffee.  How can anyone lose a coffee cup?  It’s not small like a double-pointed needle and yet lost it was.   A good half-hour was lost searching all the possible locales.  Bedroom, bath, office, desk, ironing board, washing machine, bookcase?  Where oh where could the coffee cup be?  On the table at the Husband’s spot.  Of course it was overlooked, it was assumed to be the husband’s coffee, that which has been tainted with sugar.  But it was not, tainted that is, and all was once again well with the world, well, almost.

For there our poor hapless heroine sat, coffee nestled between her hands, savoring the aroma and the flavor of warm coffee, when a flash of gray went by, a flash of gray trailing a gray thread with a touch of metallic glint.  Tabasco had taken advantage of the general mayhem to indulge her catly nature and had absconded with the Tesla sleeve.  Upon retrieval, all the stitches were intact upon 4 needles and the fifth needle had gone missing, yet again. Probably a different needle this time, more successful in “breaking out”.

This needle has remained lost.  It may resurface someday, perhaps unearthed by archeologists many hundreds of years from now, archeologists who will wonder about the many uses of double-pointed needles based on the many varied and obscure locales in which they are found.

Tesla had to be finished with one bamboo needle; bamboo, which clung to the cotton bits and made the knitting slow and tedious, but the knitting was completed anyway, despite adversity.

And this is where we find our heroine, driven mad by yet another disappearance, this time a critical piece of a pattern, a pattern “That must be made” not because any higher being has so decreed it, but because our heroine has deemed it so.

She recollects that she had seen the missing pattern piece, the neck band to a favorite top, the Fashion Sewing Group 1960 sweater set, which she was determined to make.  At the time, it had been most notably out of place.  She had reminded herself that it should put it away immediately and had thought that she had done so.  And yet, a sneaking part of her brain recalls that she might, just might,  have neglected her duties, saying “where can it go?  I shall put it away later.”  Oh procrastination, hand-maiden of the devil.  The piece is lost, never to be found again, at least not when it is needed.  The cutting will have to proceed in the probably blind hope that it will resurface in a timely manner.

Work has been taking up a little more of my time than I had anticipated hoped and so there has been less progress on George’s vest.    It is after all the end of the fiscal year and all that end-of-year accounting must be done.  Even though I pretty much have everything caught up during the year and there should not be that much extra work, it always takes a little longer than I expect.  Of course the fact that October always seems to be a very busy month anyway does not lessen the load.

Of course the other impediment to my sewing progress has been that I have been caught up in a fit of clearing up and cleaning out.  There have been too many unfinished projects, both in the house (some of them due to contractors over whom I have no control), yard, and my fiber-related life.  Since I have no control over those projects that are waiting on others I have been doubly determined to reduce my own backlog.  Projects that are planned but not yet started don’t count; they remain in the realm of dreams rather than reality.  This is a trivial (as some of these are quite necessary) distinction but a necessary one.  It’s all a question of semantics after all.

I have started cleaning out closets, storerooms, the attic, and the basement, bits and pieces at a time.  I have also been tackling unfinished knitting projects.  There really no sewing UFOs at the moment, and I am reluctant to start a new one until I feel I at least have some control of everything else going on around here.  This does not mean I will finish all projects before starting anything new.  Even a little progress has helped considerably and everything feels much more manageable to me.  There is also a partly done quilt and a couple of embroidery projects that will remain UFOs for now; one of the embroidery projects will also eventually become a sewing project. I don’t have the incentive or peace of mind to start major embroidery projects at this time. 

The other delay in cutting is that I had forgotten that the lining fabric was not ready to be cut.  I had pre-washed it, but it was waiting to be pressed.  Pressing prior to cutting is always a slow meticulous process simply because the fabric is so slippery and it is easy to let it slide off grain.  I tend to pin it to the ironing board in small sections, carefully squaring up each section before pressing it with steam and letting it cool and dry.  Sometimes I think one of those steam suctioning boards would be nice, but I wonder whether they would work as well.

Truth be told, if I don’t pressure myself into rushing through the pressing stage I rather enjoy it.  It can be a great stress reduction exercise as one carefully pins the fabric, presses, and waits.  I can let my mind wander freely over future anticipated sewing projects, dream sewing projects (always more numerous than actual sewing projects) and various other things that have been lurking around my brain.  It is very refreshing and dare I say it, zen-like, in the best of circumstances.  Of course if one is using steam, there is also the facial aspect, another boon.

I also washed and pressed a piece of black douppioni from Thai Silks..  I haven’t always washed douppioni, don’t often in fact, and I had forgotten how nice the hand of the fabric becomes after washng.  Of course this will vary considerably with the quality and weight of the particular piece of douppioni.  I might even like this washed fabric better than the original although I will not be sure until after I have worked with it a little more.   I have quite a few yards.  I was thinking of using a small bit of it as binding on some gray linen napkins, not a definite decision yet, but a strong possibility, and the douppioni would have to be washable for that use.  I was also thinking about using the fabric for a blouse, possibly one of LaFred’s blouses or I have a couple of Neue Mode Patterns that would lend themselves nicely to this idea.  I remember meeting Fred Bloebaum once when she was wearing a blouse of washed douppioni with pants of washed silk noil.  I had been very impressed with the drape and character of both fabrics in her garments. 

I am hoping that the washed douppioni will not have to be underlined which makes it more suitable for a blouse.  Crisp douppioni must be underlined in organza or something else to keep from wrinkling all the time which automatically makes it suitable for only more structured and tailored, almost jacket-like tops.   I know that there is a lot of information available about this but I need to play with it myself and form my own opinions about how much I like this fabric, and for what uses.

I bought this fabric for George some time ago at Leandro Fabrics (Adam’s wedding) but never made it up. The fabric is a beautiful wool and cashmere blend in charcoal gray with subtle caramel woven checks:  The photographs I am getting are either too dark and you can’t see the pattern, or too light:
substantial fiddling with Photoshop has occurred and I still don’t have it quite right but I am no expert.  The problem seems to be with getting the white balance/light settings on my camera set correctly but I can’t seem to quite manage it.   I suppose I should consult with George, he is the photographer after all, but then we will spend an afternoon fiddling with it and I would rather be sewing. 

This is pretty close and I love the subtle variation in the two shades of caramel.  I actually bought a good bit more than I need.  What was I thinking??  Was I thinking at all?  I might have enough for a skirt as well.  The trick then will to be to convince the darling spouse that he is not doing me a favor by wearing the vest that matches my skirt when we go out together.   Hmmm…. Perhaps I should rethink this.

This is the pattern:

I really am not sure of the fit.:  both of his existing vests fit badly, in different ways, so they don’t even provide consistent pattern help.  He is in between two sizes in men’s jackets so I will just work from there.  I did find a few minutes yesterday to cut a muslin and get it stitched together for a try-on.  Here are the results:

I might get another muslin constructed today:  they don’t take all that long after all, but Thursday will be a complete wash-out in terms of sewing time as I have to go into NYC and if the weather is nice the weekend must be spent in the garden dealing with the partially landscaped pile of mud and leaves that is left behind after last week’s rains.

My favorite sewing scissors and shears live here:

I try to put them away at the end of each day.  Still, I am only human and I suppose an occasional lapse does occur: One of those lapses happened last night when I left my favorite scissors here:

Enter Tabasco, fleeing her bed while her parents prepare to take over that real estate that, during the day she claims for herself: rumpling the sheets, squirming around trying to get comfortable, wishing each other a good night, and all those things that humans do and which cats find to be an affront to their territorial rights.  The ironing board is her bedtime resting place, out of the way yet close enough so that she can hear when the ruckus has settled down and she can sneak back into bed, feigning indifference.

But on this night temptation lies in wait on the sewing board.  Shiny metal objects are lying there. Who knows what will happen?  What cat can resist the temptation to push those shiny metal things over the edge of the ironing board and watch what happens when they hit the floor?

Clang! Bang! Clatter!  Mom is out of bed!  She makes loud unintelligible (if you are a cat) noises which don’t sound at all encouraging.  Miss cat runs away.  Mom picks up the scissors, puts them away, and goes, grumbling, back to bed.

…

It is not until the next morning that she notices that they no longer close all the way to the tip and are useless for cutting fabric. It looks like a trip to the hospital will be in order.

The second caftan is done.  Today has been a busy day filled with music, laughter, and dinner with friends.  There will be time for pictures tomorrow.

Summer keeps getting in the way of sewing, now that I am feeling better that is.

I hoped to get into the sewing room last night, and I did, but not to sew.  Mondays are always such busy days anyway.    We finished dinner about 9 PM, just in time for me to go sit in the family room and knit a little bit on my socks while watching "The Closer".   I was hot and tired from my first full workout with my new trainer and weight/stretching routine.  It was a welcome relief to just sit in front of the television and not think for a little while.

Unfortunately, dishes, laundry and other mundane household tasks were still awaiting after my little reprieve and by the time I finished, a few minutes after 11, I was simply too exhausted to begin working on the waistband for my yellow linen pants. 

I was ambitious enough to think I could finish the filing and clear off the ironing board so I could work on something today, and I did manage to do that, just barely, as I ended up sitting down thinking about fall clothes and flipping through the card file which contains the samples of my fabric stash.

I saw a couple of suits at Bergdorf Goodman recently, a beautiful Oscar de la Renta tweed with organza ribbon trim, and a lovely Armani in a textured camel colored wool.  Neither suit was in a flattering color, but I have been thinking about them ever since.  One would think, with three shoe boxes filled with fabric swatches, I would have the perfect fabrics in my stash.  Not so!.  I might have a fabric for the Armani in a deep green, a beautiful solid color cashmere and alpaca herringbone weave. At first I was not sure that I wanted to use such a deep color, I had imagined something lighter and more feminine.  After sleeping on it however I think the green would be lovely.

I dreamt of fabric and suits and jacket shapees all night so I had to get up and play around with how to draft the asymmetrical opening  of the jacket and I spent time this morning playing with drafting  pattern pieces while I sill remembered, and writing up notes so that hopefully, if I ever get to this project, I will remember the details.  I don’t know if what I have will work yet, and quite frankly, I am not going to get much further on working on this right now.  I seem to have frittered away the morning and it has suddenly dawned on me that I have many other things I am supposed to be doing today.  At least I should have enough information saved  so that when I do get to it, I will be able to jump right in.

The pattern pieces are stacked right on top of each other so it is hard to see the details, but I think you can get the general idea of what I have been working on.

I know, I know, you don’t really believe that I will ever get to this project, and that is a valid concern.  I seem to think, and write, about sewing far more than I actually sew.  But there will come a time when I actually have time and all these bits and pieces will come together.

I have faith.

Are you courteous to others because you are generally kind and you want to treat other people well, or do you practice the "common courtesies" because you feel you should and you think that if you perform these little tasks it will prove to everyone else that you are a kind and giving person instead of the selfish mean little worm that you secretly know you are?

I like to think that I am a basically decent person.  I try to be kind to others and try to show appreciation when others are kind to me.  Despite this, nothing brings out my inner mulishness more than when some kind citizen thinks he or she is doing me a favor, such as opening a door, and then says "you’re welcome" before I can even get a "thank you" out of my mouth.  Often the two phrases pass in the air, barely avoiding a head-on collision, and I wish I could desperately snatch those words out of the air and withdraw my thanks, even though I know that it is selfish and pig-headed of me.  I am most annoyed when the kind citizen you’re-welcomes me  when I am still several feet away from the door he is so kindly waiting for me to pass through.  I swear I want to turn around and walk the other way.  Who says I should walk through a door just to make someone feel better about his or her Good Samaritan status?

I usually do thank people who are kind to me.  When passing through the door, I try to look the other person in the eye when uttering my thank-you, but I may sometimes be a little distracted and thank them as I actually pass, rather than beforehand.  What I dislike about being "your-welcomed" before the thanks have been tendered is the assumption that I owe this person something.  A courtesy is a gift one extends out of the goodness of ones heart, not in anticipation of a reward.  Once upon a time I was taught that it was courteous to be nice to people and to treat them the way you would like to be treated yourself.  A courtesy is to be extended whether it is appreciated or not.  It seems to me that by saying "you’re welcome" before the recipient has even had a chance to enjoy your courtesy, you are not offering a kindness, but instead, a cut.  In effect one is saying "Here, look at what a good person I am you ungrateful wretch".  The poor victim of the courtesy is automatically placed on the defensive, dammed without chance of redemption.   

Yes, I know that it can get tiresome being nice; too many people ignore you or run right over you and take advantage.  Still, it is not nice to publicly humiliate them either, or correct them in public.  If you can’t be gracious about being gracious, it would be better just to mind your own business and not try at all.  No one would think badly of you, most people probably wouldn’t even notice.

FINE QUILTING PINS

While I was at the post office this afternoon,  I picked up a package from Londa’s .  I really hadn’t expected it to come so quickly.  After reading the article on pins in the last Threads magazine, I ordered the Clover fine quilting pins.  I had never ordered from Londa before, but she e-mailed me right away to tell me that there had been a rush on the pins (understandably so) and she was waiting for another shipment to come in.  I was in no particular hurry and informed her of this.  I was surprised when they came so soon, and was definitely in the mood for a present.

Don’t they look pretty in their bowl?

Perhaps I should have ordered more.

My Poison Ivy saga continues,– or at least the poising ivy continues to crawl its way around my person, so any sewing is still on hold, at least while my wrists and arms remain in a crusty oozy stage.    It has been over a week now and the original site of infection is healing, so I do see a ray of hope on the horizon.  To think that I used to be the designated PI person in the household because I never got a rash — goodbye to all that.

On Friday I did get the crotch seam sewn on the linen pants and then I dripped PI ooze onto the lovely yellow linen.  They went in the wash and I was so disgusted I haven’t touched a sewing project since.   Closet cleaning and reading old sewing old Threads Magazines will have to continue to do a short while longer.

It is lovely to have an excuse to lounge about and read, but the forced inactivity is getting to me, as well as the general annoyance and disgust factors that are at play in my personal image awareness.  Still, things are improving, PI is not fatal after all, and fiberly activities will resume.

Another birthday gift did materialize, not that I am totally selfish and vain or anything, but I am tickled pink (or blue?).

I also got some sewing time in.  I finished the top I was making from the aqua Nancy Erickson cotton knit.  It turned out very nicely and I wore it to dinner tonight. 

I am too busy digesting a wonderful dinner and great wine to write now but I will fill you in on the details tomorrow.

This is not an info-mercial, but it sounds like it could be.

George came home and announced a minor disaster had occurred.  Somehow, during the course of the day at the office, his pen leaked ink all over the front of his favorite yellow and white striped shirt.  There was a very deep blue spot, quite large at the bottom of the pocket and several smaller dots of ink lower down.

After trying all the usual remedys for ink of various sorts (it was one of those gel pens), and reading every article about stain removal in every book in the house that might contain such information, old or new,  the spot was still a deep permanent-seeming beacon of blueness.  It didn’t look like it had faded much although many many blue spots through a thick white cleaning towel belied that impression.

The shirt was lost….

Then, because there was nothing else to do, I thought "Why don’t I soak it in Biz".  Biz works for many things ( i have no association with this company whatsoever).  I use it every week to soak the sheets before I wash them.  I have white sheets that are 10 years old that are still as white as the driven snow and still in good shape (unlike chlorine bleach which destroys the fabric over time and doesn’t just eat the dull prespiration stains the way Biz does).  I used Biz to get old stains out of my grandmothers’s tablecloths many many years ago, and find it will still get a lot of old stains out as long as you are willing to use a goodly amount of biz and let it soak for plenty of time.

Biz says nothing about ink and I was not convinced it would work  But I made a concentrate of Biz in a bucket and put the shirt in overnight.  By morning, the ink was significantly lighter on the shirt, a shadow of its former self really and the soapy water had a definite blue tinge.  Another bucket of biz and another few hours soaking and the shirt was as new, no ink, no ring-around-the collar, a perfect shirt.

Thank you Biz.  Why did I never think of this before?  I have to go out of my way to buy Biz as most stores around me don’t carry it.  I buy multiple boxes at a time because I have not found anything else that keeps the sheets as nice of that gets miscellaneous impossible stains out of tablecloths.