You Can Call Me Gwen

Chickens and plumbers and fish, oh my!

It's Monday and there are just bunches of things swirling through my brain.

Ready for a ride?

 

First, I have a question.

Have any of you ever vacationed at a dude ranch?

My heart beats faster when I think about the vacation plans we started discussing this weekend with my Big Seester and her hubby.

I am considering looking for temporary work to bankroll good times in September.

Colorado, fall, horseback, mountains, and....ART!

Look at this place!

Yikes!

Be still my beating heart.

Speak to me, friends.

Ever done something like this?

 

Along another line...

Look who came to live with me this weekend:

 

 

Tammy Faye has arrived.

She and her friends are living in my laundry room in their own little home.

It has central heat.

 

 

 

I like to go in the laundry room in the morning, make a little noise, and wake the precious chickies up.

Once they start moving about, I tell them, "Now, I want to hear a peep out of you!"

(I'm sure the Shoots never thought they'd see the day I'd turn that phrase around.)

I got the chickies out for a photo shoot today.

They were pretty dadgum excited and wouldn't hold still for the camera.

 

 

 

That's Marilyn and Alice in back,  Amy and Tammy Faye in front.

They have their own personalities.

Believe you me.

 

 

 

 

See what I mean?

Amy (on the left here) just lays it on the line.

I mean, she tells you exactly how she feels about you.

How rude.

I think Marilyn (in the middle) believes she's just a little better than the rest.

But, hey, maybe she is.

I'm a little partial to Tammy Faye (on the right).

My shallow love is based on looks, however, and we all know those change as we age.

But, I gotta tell you this: It's a really good thing my love isn't based on smell or we'd be starting off where we might end up.

 

 

(Pausing here to tell you what I just overheard the plumber say. He is here to give us a quote on the new furnace and AC.  He said, "We're only ten percent negative."  I'm sure it had to do with something mechanical, but it floated to my ears out of context, and I thought, "Gee, that's pretty good. Most people these days are a lot more negative than that.")

 

Now on to other things.

I finished my little Swimmy softie.

 

 

 

 

I love Swimmy.

He's got spirit.

He was kind of up against the big guys.

(I'm thinking of making one or two of them to go with Swimmy when I drop him for the Toy Society.)

 

 

 

 

But Swimmy figured out a way to scare the big guys off.

 

 

 

It's so important to have friends.

Like you.

Thanks.

Are you trying to start something??

I haven't been able to post for a couple of days because that ol' Naomi made me help her clean out our sewing closet.

She thinks that when I'm excited about a new project, I'm careless and messy when I go in there to get fabrics and supplies.

I keep trying to explain how hard it is to be all painstakingly neat and tidy when your hair is on fire about something.

She just doesn't get it.

Anyway, we cleaned out the closet.

And now she thinks I shouldn't be allowed to start any new projects.

She says I never finish anything.

Because we found this:

 

 

It's a true scrap quilt started 20 years ago for one of the male Shoots.

She thinks I ought to finish it, since it's made from the scraps of fabric she used to make the family's clothes.

She says it would be nice to have it for the male Grandshoots to use when they visit.

We also found this: 

 

 

 

 

This is a king-size quilt top in the hen-and-chicks pattern.

I made the quilt top 16 or 17 years ago...before "the big move".

She thinks I ought to finish this, too.

For the king-size bed in the guest room.

I told her these things take time.

And then she found these:

 

 

 

 

A nice fat stack of nine-patch blocks from a project I started a year ago.

It was abandoned mid-way because of a change in circumstances.

And by that, I mean Miss Helping Hands moved out of the dorm room with the green carpet.

Naomi thinks I ought to find new vision on this and get it done.

I told her, "Gosh! I just started this one last year. It needs to age."

So she moved on to these:

 

 

 

 

 

A big stack of hand-stitched stars made from the scraps of all the clothes she sewed for Miss Helping Hands when she was still a wee lass.

She really got on to me about this one.

She laid out a bunch of the stars, like this:

 

 

 

 

I told her this is not how it's supposed to look.

It's the Seven Sisters quilt pattern.

She just said, "It doesn't matter what the pattern is."

"You did all this work. You really need to finish this one!"

She says it would be a great gift for Miss Helping Hands someday when she gets her own home.

I just said, "Yes, it would."

"Some day when she gets her own home."

She sighed.

Then she found these:

 

 

A much smaller stack of hand-stitched pinwheel quilt blocks I started making out of Miss Mary Mack's clothing scraps.

"What?!"

"Why didn't you finish this one?!"

I told her I had realized I would never finish enough of those little, tiny, blocks to actually get a quilt done, so I had changed to these:

 

 

 

 

These are much bigger patches in the 'spinning spools' pattern.

At this point Naomi got very quiet.

And it made me feel kind of bad about myself.

She silently finished the closet-cleaning project and went to curl up and take a nap in this:

 

 

 

And just before she dozed off, I whispered:

"See. I do too finish stuff."

Breaking up is hard to do.

The sun came out today!

Lovely, lovely, loveliness.

I took the girls out to sit in the sun for a few minutes.

Some of them were not very ladylike, and they began climbing trees.

In their skirts!

I did get them all to sit still long enough to take their pictures.

Judy says hello.

Reiko says, "Konnichiha".

And Lucy...

 

...and Vera were both climbing, but stopped long enough to give us a smile.

 

 

Rosie behaved nicely.

 

 

She was playing with Ginnie.

Before we had to bid good-bye to the sun and the trees, I rounded them all up for a group photo.

 

 

 

 

Now, that all sounds real sweet, doesn't it?

But the real reason I took the photo is because...

Well...

I'm selling off the family.

And it hurts.

 

My plate is full.

Maybe it's just because I'm not feeling well, but yesterday it was so much harder than usual to be a grown up.

At the end of the day I knew I had done the right things, and I was full of gratitude that I had been able to act responsibly.

But I was also very weepy.

And cold.

I was so cold.

So I spent the entire evening wrapped up in this:

My very own quilt.

Don't you love a nine-patch quilt?

There is something so homey and comforting and cheerful about it.

I made this one when I quit working 'out there'.

I thought I would be taking a nap in it whenever I felt like it.

I'm still laughing about that.

Oh, well.

Last night it was nice to sit on the sofa wrapped in this quilt, drinking tea, and talking to Prince Charming...both of us weeping over the goodness and faithfulness of God as we shared our day.

And, of course, there were needles and thread.

 

 

And polka-dot felt.

 

 

 

 

Having polka-dot felt makes it a little bit easier to be a grown-up.

 

 

Here's a big serving of pink love for you, my friends.

Mr. V.H. Caterpillar

Okay youse guys.

Here's how this project went.

I cut out some 3" strips of fabric and sewed them together...mostly in straight lines...some at an angle, to give the guy a little curve.

I ironed the seams flat and laid it, right side down, over some solid green fabric, and cut around it to make the back side of Mr. V. H.

He's a one-sided 'pillar, but that's better than being two-faced.

 

 

 

I pinned the back to the front, right sides together, and penciled in my stitching line.

 

 

 

Then I pinned them together so I could cut them without any shifting.

 

I set him aside for a minute and free-stitched some antennae and feet on a double layer of felt.

I cut them out close to the stitching.

Then I unpinned Mr. V.H. and opened him up to give him a face and stitch his feelers and feetsies in place.

Then I got the shakes.

From going without breakfast.

Because I planned to work out first.

First thing this morning.

Which I didn't do because I started sewing Mr. V. H. and couldn't stop.

Until I got the shakes.

So I stopped here and ate through a bowl of Special K and half a banana.

Which made me think, "Mr. V. H. needs something to eat through, too."

I stitched a couple of pieces of covered wire to some green felt.

I folded the felt over, stitched and then trimmed close to both sides.

Then I cut  up some scraps of fabric (and one of green felt for a little extra padding) to make a leaf.

I forgot to take pictures.

I stitched the wire stem all the way up the back side of one leaf part.

Then I sewed the two leaves together and turned them right side out,

I made the brown stem the same as the green, only longer, and I just tucked the green stem in one side before stitching the two pieces of brown felt together.

I forgot to take photos of that, too.

And I forgot to take photos of the plum, but you probably know how it was assembled because you're smart.

And that brought me here.

Where I guess my blood sugar level returned to functional and I suddenly remembered the camera.

I grabbed Mr. V. H. and tried to find something to use as a pattern for the "ate through" hole.

I centered it on the plum and traced around it.

Yet another use for the fabulous Mod Podge!

A nice tight applique stitch around the circle and a little close cutting, and here is the proof of Mr. V H.'s voracious appetite.

Now I just stuffed that plum plum-full of poly-fill and slip-stitched all those little openings shut.

I pushed the plum stem down into the plum a bit and pulled the two sides of the plum in with hand stitching to make it stay nice and upright.

Et voila!

Mr V. H. Caterpillar.

And his dinner.

All ready to go to the library.

But I have to go work out.

Ugh.

Blackheart the Postman

 

I've been stitching and stuffing these little Valentine felties this week while Prince Charming and I listen to a series of talks from these good people.

 

 

I'm not sure what is driving me to mix blue with my standard red and white this Valentine's 'season'.

 

But I do know what drove me to include the black heart.

A little bit of guilt.

Mixed with a whole lot of laughter.

I'll tell you about it in this little story we'll call "Blackheart the Postman".

There is a good reason the title is not "Blackheart the Letter Carrier", as you will see.

 

Blackheart the Postman

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away in a nearby city, there were four little boys and two little girls. They were sick of having to pose for pictures cheerful little childen who lived in a overcrowded cozy little home with...

 

 

 

...their two under-prepared gorgeous, young parents.

As our story opens, the youngest boy and his two little sisters are fighting over playing sweetly and quietly with their building blocks and dollies.

The three older boys are sitting at the dining room table fidgeting and grumbling dutifully laboring over their school books.

Their overwhelmed stunning and brilliant young mother is teaching them how to carry to the ten's place, sound out the "ough" phonogram, and say their spelling words in American sign language.

The little boys are so sick of enthralled with their studies that when the postman is seen approaching their mail box, they all shout, "Can I go get the mail? reluctantly, though selflessly, ask, "Mother dear, shall I bring in the mail for you?"

Their distracted sweet and gentle mother gives permission to leans upon Techie, the eldest.  She is never ever fair and just in dispensing asking favors, having no idea, a sure knowledge of whose turn it is.

Techie walks as slowly as possible eagerly to, and then from, the mailbox. He knows this may be his only escape from the school desk he will benefit from the fresh air and will return to his studies with increased aptitude .

He returns emptyhanded and mumbling.

"Blackheart."

"What did you say darling?" says his wary patient and understanding mother. She knows that Techie and his brothers sometimes try to get away with saying things they shouldn't are waiting for something they ordered to arrive.

"He didn't leave us any mail, so I called him Blackheart," Techie confesses.

"I see," says his mother.  "That is a very funny name. You have chosen wisely, Grasshopper Techie."

And, so, from that time forth, the postman was always referred to as Blackheart when he failed to carry a letter to the four little boys, two little girls, and two news-starved generous and talented parents who lived in the crowded little cottage on 15th Street so far, far away.

And he still is.

The end. 

 

I'm sorry, Blackheart.

We know it's not your fault.

But we still blame you.

 

Why I made this.

A while back I signed up with The Toy Society.

You can look at their website here.

I've been thinking about what kind of toy to make first.

And today I came across this little sketch I made when I was surfing one day.

 

And I remembered these:

 

 

A pair of linen pants I bought at the thrift store, intending to re-purpose the lovely fabric.

Then I went through my stash of scraps looking for something really bright and cheerful to keep things lively.

This piece from the Amy Butler collection (love her stuff,see more here) captured my fancy.

I drafted a pattern and started cutting and sewing.

 

 

Nice thing about making your own patterns - you don't have to follow any rules when you use them.

An hour later, this is what I had:

 

I want to make many more.

Short ones.

Tall ones.

Fat ones.

Skinny ones.

But this one is going to be "dropped" according to The Toy Society's guidelines.

And I'd like some suggestions for drop sites from those of you who are local.

Let me hear from you.

Bummy Wabbit needs a home.