Eggs by Aurifil

My mother and father in law are celebrating 49 years together. The husband has a heap of hens and is always giving us eggs, for which we are very grateful!  It was with this gratitude that I came to design their anniversary greeting.

You can't see it up close, but it does there is a top and bottom stitching: 49...and counting

I look forward to next year when I'll be replace the 49 with a big ol' 50, making sure to make the 0 into a great golden egg.  There are indeed 49 eggs and each one is specially quilted with a differnet design using Aurifil threads, mostly ivory 2311.

A month ago I began a sewing bee at my house. With such hectic work and life swirling by, I decided to carve out some time for just me. Every Saturday, 9-12 I sew. Now, I have a few friends who come come along. I have completed a few other projects, so I'll be sure to be posting them.

Stay cool.

Picture It!

On January 1st I spent the morning with scissors in one hand, glue stick in the other. By mid day I had my future in clear view.

A few years ago I had given up making resolutions in exchange of making visionary boards. What fun! Simply find images that represent your goals of 2012--cut and paste, hang it front and centre. In my kitchen, my eyes rest on it several times a day seeing and believing my efforts will bring forward these goals.

Back in the day we would collect the various glossy magazines and cut out images. Today we have our fairy Googlemother. Click Images, type a few words and away we go. My wishes granted--in pictures, anyway.

My future is sectioned into quarters. There is my personal, me, health for mind and body. Images in upper left depict fitness, confidence, hope, healthy choices.

Below, left, is my work life, business--the magazine. The woven theme is a positivity and doubling for 2012. Positive paths, growth of an enthusiastic community and literally twice the business and twice the pay for myself.

Top, right, was a bit risque. The DH dilema. Resulting in a large scope image on a JOB for him. I attempted to prepare him for this vision making and he was reluctant to pick a chosen target--a job he would like for himself. Truth be told this is his general failing in securing a job, if I could be so bold to diagnose him. He doesn't see himself working, is unable or unwilling to articulate what he wants. It's clear he believes he is not given control of his destiny. So much more controls his destiny: the economy, the culture, even his childhood and rearing shapes and determines his future. In life this has become our greatest difference.

Moving south on the board, I think of our long driveway with its front pillars vacant of a gate and the road, pitted with potholes. As DH spotted the images of front gates and even a man in gear filling potholes, a slow smile emerged on his face.

While DH is unable to use visualisation or positive thinking to move forward, he is keen to recognise that I do and can. It is as if he knows I'll add his needs to my magic genie and DH becomes a passive rider of the magic carpet. He knows this and I know this.

The fourth quarter is my family life, a happy smiling singing family. We visualise a safe home, safe from bank, safe from damage, safe from all that harms. For 2012, the girls want to travel and a trampolene. Both of these wishes I accommodated on the visual board.

Afterall, if you jump high enough, one could argue you are traveling.

Happy new year!

When Love Strays

I've been unfaithful.

That's me. My blogging love and attention have been over here. I'm sorry.
Please forgive me, because I'm back.

Slowly I'm redefining my role as a crafter, mom and wife after nearly four years being held hostage over here. Still there, but trying to be more here!

We have been in our Wexford house since March and patchwork classes began in late September. Really, I wasn't interested in patchwork classes--as I have such limited time and, honestly? What I wanted is a quilting, stitching group gathering where I could work on projects I love but for whom I had little time.

I get it. I should start my own gathering, but it's baby steps--this redefining of life. So I enrolled in the local class for a committed-two-hours-of-sewing a week. I haven't sewn consisently on any one project in years and let's face it, my sewing can always use some instruction.

We meet at the local community centre and the only slot open was the beginners' class. Most other students are older and only one or two know me. As I begin this new quilt--which jumped ahead of all the rest--guilt washes over me. I find myself rushing through my sewing.

The quilt is the Jacob Ladder block, so I am working hard to ensure sharp points. Immediately I took a generous 1/4" seam so already I fail the class, with a block measuring 11" when class sample is 12". My teacher, a friend, has already scolded me on my fast pace. She says many of the ladies know who I am and they expect me to breeze through the class with beautiful work. "So slow down!"

I'd rather not have such expectations of me from strangers. Lord knows, I let down my own family enough! I'm content when I can finish 30 decent blocks. I reckon, 30 perfect blocks will come to me when I'm in my 50s. My brain has limited time for too many responsibilities (wifery, motherhood, accounts, sales, writing, etc.,) that my perfect stitches are not at the top--nor am I the one who makes the featured quilts over there.

I will continue going to sewing class and I'll do my best, but hopefully one or two of these women will take the time to get to know me. Up til now, I'm still very much a 'blow in' in the village and to them.
I've shown my teacher the shrunken block to her dismay, but to my credit, they are all consistently shrunken to 11".

So my block is wrong, but it is consistently wrong.

Worse, if you consult my unfinished projects, each would say they're unloved and that I've been unfaithful.

Again.

Persevering Through Pain

For the last two months, I've awoken with a pain in my underarm. The day progresses with searing pain down to my fingers and alternates with a dull throb in my elbow.

Must be a trapped nerve. What is it like to be a trapped nerve? A needling little nuisance?

Once I was called a badger by a boss, which in my book is the same thing as a needling nuisance, a royal pain among other working muscles. I guess I bothered her. In fairness to me, she was not at the top of her game and the natives on our team were restless. Back then I was 21, knew it all and was outspoken, unlike my unhappy, but wise, middle-age coworkers working in our department. Although I went onward with promotions and seven years employed in that company, she, on the other hand, endured divorce and redundacy a short while after our time together.

(I would like to stress that I make no link between her shortcomings as a manager, her marital demise and the downsizing of one of America's largest drugstore corporations. Nor does being a badger bring merits--suffice to say, I was and am a hardworker.)

Still I often reflect on this time with my boss and I do regret my behaviour. I was a painful nerve to her and she was trapped as my superior. My comments did nothing but bring criticism and spectulation. The greatest offense was being inexperienced know-it-all clerk. We managed well as a team, but my needling was uncomfortable to us all.

Much like my trapped nerve which serves to disturb my mobility, sleep and mood. Dr. Google says these pressing pests have a way of going away on their own. Treatment is simple a form of pain suppression.

Back then I eventually found my place and confidence in my own work and stopped worrying about my superior.

Treatment was and is life experience. Climb onboard.

Treat yourself today!

Summer's in the Bag

Just came from my biz blog where I wrote about taking inspiration (with permission, of course) into our sewing projects. This counts in the homefront as well. Recently, I made some very cool and oh, so easy bags. I originally spied them at designer Judith's blog and she credited the original pattern at Grosgrain.

The morning I was sewing, the in-laws dropped in. Handy enough, I was just finishing one and my MIL was thrilled when I gave her the first one.

You can't see the fabric up close, but the floral pattern is a vintage print that came along in a box of excess scraps from a fabric company in Dublin. It seemed to be a perfect fit for Nanny.

This will tell you how behind I am on posting. My scramble to make these bags one morning--and I did, three in one morning-- was for my daughter's teachers as thank you gifts back in June. Needless to say, the girls were delighted to model before taking to them in as gifts.

It was a countdown to school ending. Now we've begun the countdown to school beginning. My cutiepie,who is about to enter the full day in first class, is driving the back-to-school campaign.

And, this mom's right behind her.

Suffering Guilt Block

I'm working through my demons. I've got guilt blocking me from blogging.

Oh, the amount of times I think of my blog. I love writing and I love writing about my life. This blog was born more than three (four?) years ago. At the time, I worked in an office as a production manager. Looking at my posting history, one might think I did nothing at work. When actually it was quite the opposite--I was very good at my work. HA!! That's not fair. really.

My managerial role was to keep the designers in an ad production studio supported and ensure we made daily deadlines. The reality was the team was that good. My tasks included morning production conference calls; the remainder of my day was to put out fires and resolve problem escalations. The truth of the matter, the artists in the studio were that good--beyond the morning, my role rarely kicked into gear--when it did, it was five minutes before day's end and a working mother's worst wish, but that's another post.

So at my desk, I had plenty of time to write and explore blogs. Irony was this particular company disallowed any internet surfing. Click to any website and a forbidden code appeared. Yet, click to blogs, and viola! I remember thinking how insanely ineffective that IT functionality was. I also figured my postings must fly below the radar, or the IT guys really digged my blog!

My blogging changed when I began working for the magazine. My life changed. I've worked hard to keep my family the same. (Not sure I've succeeded.) I've lost hold of my friends (all of them) and cherish to death those who allow me to lose touch and welcome me anytime. At the height of my blog, I was crafting. Naturally, some of the best bloggers and blog followers are crafters. So I'd like to come back, but I've got a guilt block. Not a writer's block, but guilt. I want to come back with craft. I want to show my creativity and be visually interesting. Meanwhile my mind is bursting and my hands have not known craft for two or more years, beyond the odd project.
So I've decided to come back with or without craft. The creativity will follow, I believe.

When Words Stiffle Us
Last night I had the most vivid dream. It was unreal. This morning it was our entertainment at breakfast.
I was in Disneyland Japan with a tour of quilters. There was one lady who kept trying to steal people's valuables while we stood in line for the park's rides. I was asked to mind someone's camera and caught this lady in the act. Holding tight to her hand, I summoned the park police and told the theft she would be left behind in a Japanese jail. The Japanese cops arrived--they were two sumo wrestlers in police uniforms with a third regular-sized dressed cop. They let the thief go. I went to the cop upset asking why they let her go. He explained that they had to honour the tourists and airlines so as not to cause problems. I began talking fast with my annoyance of this, and the cop raised a microphone to my face and suddenly some liquid sprayed out the end much like a clown's trick water ring. Only, once this water hit my mouth, my lips went numb and my words were drooling slurs. Ultimately. I became the one who missed the flight out of Japan.

Back in reality, we laughed hard.
The girls wondered aloud if there was a Disneyland in Japan.

DH wondered aloud where one could find that special liquid.

And I , well, I wondered if it was time to return to my blogging.

Rainy Thoughts

We awoke this morning to buckets of rain. This meant two things.

1. I would have a guilt free day working on my laptop indoors.
2. The line of clothes outside were washed, dried and now wet again.

Yesterday was sunny skies, a near scorcher. I was working all day so I had the usual lost Saturday guilt. Doing three loads of wash, I thought the scales of justice balanced. That's if I remembered to bring in the dry wash from the line last night.

In reflection it is has been seven years since I entered into a tumble dryer deprived free world. Amazing, but I manage. What leisure tool do you sacrifice?

The weekend had began with beautiful weather and I was able to celebrate with the photography of the latest quilt. With help from my neighbor who did the peicing and quilting, my US vision has come to life.

Here's a sneak peak.



This Tribute to America quilt is my design and as soon as I can get a fresh coat of pain on our foyer walls, I'm hanging it over the staircase.

From Irish sea to shiny American sea!

Stay dry,

a