Mauve Changed the World

I picked up Rachel May's book Quilting With a Modern Slant today at the library. What an interesting piece of work. I will have to spend some more time with it as it is full of profiles of modern quilters, as well as patterns. I love quilting books that are meant to be read as well as used.

Anyway, one blurb caught my eye, p. 19 "Happy Accidents." Social history of the color mauve. A Google search ensued. I will have to check out the book now, entitled Mauve: How One Man Invented a Color That Changed the World. Here is a blurb I found on Amazon:

"In 1856 eighteen-year-old English chemist William Perkin accidentally discovered a way to mass-produce color. In a 'witty, erudite, and entertaining' (Esquire) style, Simon Garfield explains how the experimental mishap that produced an odd shade of purple revolutionized fashion, as well as industrial applications of chemistry research. Occasionally honored in certain colleges and chemistry clubs, Perkin until now has been a forgotten man."

Huh. Who would've thunk. Mauve is the epitome of 1980's drab in our minds today. It is actually the French word for the mallow flower, and a Wikipedia search reveals that there are many shades of the purplish color. And now I know there is a world of medical, textile, and industrial discovery behind this first synthetic dye. Mauve, the happy accident that changed the world!

Grandma's Buttons

Look at these buttons I found at the thrift store a while ago. Lots of times I pass over the bags of buttons I see there because they are overpriced cheap generic ones, of which I have plenty. But this was a find that almost broke my heart. In the box was another little bag of buttons with a note that said, "J.-- These are from your Great Great Grandma's button box," and it was signed Gram. How sad that those buttons were somehow forgotten or not wanted. I love looking at them.

Farmers' Wives Speak

Here are the latest blocks I've completed for the Farmer's Wife 1930's sew along, and some thoughts from the letters in the book.

 Addie: This wife traded her electric washer for two cows when they moved to the country to build a homestead. I found myself really frustrated this past week over silly things compared to her circumstances. Who took all the rechargeable batteries, because my computer mouse is dead. My dishwasher is suddenly running inefficiently. My vacuum needed a new belt. Our power went out for 30 hours, and we were a little chilly. All those things add up in my mind, until I take a step back and put myself in her place! Thank you God for everything, especially the inconveniences that remind me that I need You.

 Aimee: "And go to bed with backward looks, At my dear land of Storybooks."  This school year I am trying to spend more time reading stories to my children. It is really the best time of the day. We are all together, all listening to the same thing, committing poems and Scripture to memory, learning to love what is true and beautiful. These will be the times we fondly remember years down the road.

 Margaret: Ahhh, this letter rings so true with me! Our house is often full of this same happy chaos, sometimes so much so that I can't be heard. The dinner table is the busiest, loudest, happiest place in our home. I am learning to love it because it won't be like this forever. They will grow wings and fly away soon. Not too soon, please. "Outside there was rain, wind, darkness, but indoors there was warmth, light, food, shelter, Home, and Love." Let this be said of my home.

Nancy:  "As a lasting investment there is nothing to compare with even a small library." This wife writes about what a treasure books are in the home, even if there are just a few. I heartily agree with her. I find warm delight in a child snuggled up in a chair immersed in a good book. Teaching a small child to read. Unhurriedly reading and re-reading favorite picture books to the toddlers. Our house is full of books. Too full? No. No house is too full of friends, and there will always be room for more.

This is my favorite letter of them all. She writes about "blind flying" in our lives, "flying by faith." Faith in what? In God's sovereignty and sufficiency, and in His unchangeable Word. Our ability to pray to Him as His children and know that He hears us. Our world is in confusion everywhere we look. But God does not change. What peace we have if He is our Father and we His faithful children.

Jenny

Here is my rendition of Block 45, Jenny. I constructed it using the "stitch and flip" method. I made two flying geese, one quarter square triangle, and four rectangle/square units. Pretty simple to put together, and again I was able to avoid cutting and stitching on the bias. If you are not familiar with "stitch and flip," Lori Holt's books are excellent. I have sewed through most of her books Quilty Fun and Farm Girl Vintage. I am using those same techniques to get me through Farmer's Wife. Whatever scraps I have left I try to save for mini-blocks, so I don't feel guilty wasting precious bits.

For my friends not familiar with The Farmer's Wife 1930's Sampler Quilt, it is a gem. The first half of the book consists of letters from farmers' wives of the 1930's, published in the periodical The Farmer's Wife in a column called "Letters From our Farm Women." Each letter in this book is paired with a quilt block, and the second half of the book provides diagrams and instructions for piecing each block. The CD included has all the templates as well as instructions for different methods of piecing.

I hope to be posting my blocks consistently as I sew along this year with Angie at GnomeAngel and all the other thousands of quilters participating. As it is the school year, I am busy homeschooling and caring for my family, so these blocks are perfect to give me a little sewing time each week without overdoing it.

A word or two about Jenny: this letter is about spending time with your kids. I used to count changing diapers and feeding them as quality time, but I was probably mistaken. As they have gotten older, I have learned how enjoyable it is to sit down and really give them my attention, whether it's working together cleaning the house or sitting down for our daily read-aloud time. It doesn't have to be playtime. Jenny reminds me that I should think of my children as my partners, my brothers and sisters in the body of Christ. We work together for a common goal. A good reminder!

Granny

Here she is, as perfect as she will be. This is block 41 in The Farmer's Wife 1930's Sampler Quilt. I love the challenge of figuring out how to make each block. Sometimes I will just sit and study the diagrams to try to figure out the best way to cut (avoiding bias at all costs!). If nothing else, these blocks are sharpening my quilt math, which seems quite dull sometimes. I used the "flip and stitch" method on this block and preserved the scraps to make mini blocks, because we have to keep in the 30's spirit and not waste! They are so cute! Granny was pretty simple to put together, though matching those points was just too much to ask at the late hour I was sewing this. So Granny will remain, maybe a little blemished on the outside, but full of spirit and seasoned character.

Old and New

I hold a new life in my arms these warm end-of-summer days. He came in the night half a month ago, a perfect squirmy bundle of boy, soft and pink and lovely. He came 100 years and one day after his great-grandfather. Consider the chasm stretching across all those years. Yet how much in common infancy and old age are. The wisdom of a century has faded into child-like speechlessness.  Each knows little else than utter dependence on another's ability to clothe, wash, and feed. The end of life is as near to one as the beginning is to the other. Old limbs have succumbed to age. Legs bear no more weight, and the weight and care of life has diminished. Money, possessions--meaningless to the old man and the baby. Helplessness has set in on the gray head, eyes strain with longing. Old eyes are weary with years. The infant's are startled by the sudden light and can see no further than his mother's face. Both have little but the basic desire to be loved unconditionally. The old man fades. Death is knocking at the door. Death, be not proud! Where is your sting? Thanks be to God who gives us the victory, who has crushed old Death under His foot. While death knocks at that man's door, the baby begins to thrive. Cheeks plump. Limbs submit to his tender will. Eyes brighten, and his face breaks into waves of willful smiles. Death knocks at that old man's door, but joy indeed comes in the morning, and joy has come to our house again. Our beloved old Grandfather has entered Glory now, full of years. But we hold this new life, and our spirits shine with joy and hope because we know that we will all meet again on the Other Side, whole and glorified.

Rest in peace, Grandpa! We will miss you here, until we meet again. And welcome to our home, baby Simon!

Nothing Gold

This is a mini wall hanging I worked on last week for a musician friend who is moving across the country. The kind of friend who gives way more than you could ever repay. The kind of friend who is at your doorstep with boxes of food and diapers the morning after your car accident. The kind whom your baby reaches for in a crowd of people. This little project was the least I could do for someone who has given my family so much. I will miss you (you know who you are!), and this is just a little piece of my soul to go with you to your new home. I hope we can come visit you!

Among my thrifty finds of late, here are two new-to-me quilt books in my collection. The first attracted my attention since I have been curious about quilt history lately. This book has about 50 introductory pages about the history of American patchwork quiltmaking, and the rest of the book is photographs and descriptions of antique patchwork quilts in the author's collection. The most unusual thing about the book is that it is a history written in 1935. What a lot of water has flowed under the quilting bridge since then! There is not much text in the book, and the photos are black and white, which leaves plenty of room in the imagination for different color combinations. I am always fascinated by looking at the work others have done with much less than we have today.

The second book I recently found is already one of my favorites, the next thing on my to-do list. The book was still shrink-wrapped, so I wasn't sure what I was getting (looked a little outdated at first), but it just sang itself right off that shelf and into my cart! I shy away from 90's era froofy styles, but this book's timeless sort of contents is delightful. The author highlights 40 antique doll or crib quilts, and she also gives patterns for each one. I have a yen to get into more hand-quilting, and this book is perfect for that. I also like how "imperfect" those antique quilts look. The corners aren't always perfectly square, and the block arrangements are sometimes pleasantly askew. I find that very charming and authentic, filled with whimsy and child-like playfulness.
 

Speaking of child-like simplicity, I had heard of the Gee's Bend Quilters before, but I wasn't exactly sure what they were all about until I watched this short documentary. 15 minutes of soul! It really struck a chord with me, especially in light of this "slow-sewing" movement that has piqued my interest lately. The segment that highlights the Gee's Bend ladies' quilting bee made my own soul sing along with them. They sit around the quilt and quietly sing their songs, mournful, reflective, heavenly songs. Their friendship, simplicity, and earthy community lacks any pretense or competitive desire. It's not just about the quilt. It's about slow living, community, memories, and friends, not necessarily perfection.

All this brings me to question a few things about myself and the culture around me. How much should we and do we hold perfection up as our ultimate trophy of success? Have our modern machines and desire for "quick and easy" stolen a bit of soul out of our work? Can we walk away from mistakes? I see the thirst for perfection glaring at me in my own attitude. As one of my friends recently said, "Perfection is really hard work." Now there are surely times where perfection is the goal--obedience, for one. Our musical offerings. Our love for God and others. Those are things that will stay and grow forever, and we should strive for perfection there. But when it comes to things that won't stay--our clean houses, new clothes, shiny cars, making sure every stitch is in the perfectly right spot--maybe we should just slow down and enjoy the imperfections. Swim in forgiveness for things that need to be perfected, and enjoy the work of our hands, however flawed it may be.

Nature’s first green is gold, 
Her hardest hue to hold. 
Her early leaf’s a flower; 
But only so an hour. 
Then leaf subsides to leaf. 
So Eden sank to grief, 
So dawn goes down to day. 
Nothing gold can stay.

--Robert Frost