Saturday, 31 August 2013

A Rail of One's Own

It's true that I've been sewing for over a decade, and that I have had a dedicated sewing space for 4 years.

But today, I am a Quilter.

Behind my sewing desk there is a white wall, much like all the other white-washed walls in my home. I finally decided to hang some inspiration up there, and found a joyful, amazing rail thingie (that's a technical term,) with metal hooks, and little plastic hanging containers, and it's a whole new world out there, baby.

Every single piece of art on this wall is meaningful to me. The "Welcome Baby" sampler was made by my Grandma. The apple was drawn by my 7-year-old daughter. The painting says "This is a picture of me and grandpa going to the zoo and seeing the peacocks."
Happy sigh.

But it's the hanging rulers that make me feel like a real sewist. And the hanging embroidery hoops. And the scissors! And the rotary cutter in a little bucket! The nice people at Ikea thought this was for a kitchen, which just goes to show what they know.

Perched on the filing cabinet is a bag from Liberty's (swoon), and my cake stand of threads, and a bunch of other lovely stuff.

I haven't sewn much in the last few months, and for now, I am mostly just reminding myself what fabric looks like. But this wall of colour lifts my spirits, and it'll be here when I'm ready to pick up a needle and thread, and be inspired.

[A Rail of One's Own can be viewed here, here and here. You're welcome.]

Saturday, 17 August 2013


I don't know how to write this post.
But I am sharing with my quilting community that my Dad is gone. He passed last week.

We are all grateful that his suffering is over. (Want to vent about liver cancer? I'm here for you. Really.) But the truth is, I am not grateful at all that he is not here. It is simply not possible that he is not here.

He was funny, smart and engaging. Quietly and without fanfare, he listened to people and held their hands when they needed it most. He and my mother loved each other dearly, and I am grateful to have had them as my parents, as they modeled not only a wonderful marriage, but also how to inject each day with meaning, and how to be kind and thoughtful members of a community. I love you, Dad.