The Bottomless Scrap Bag

I used up nearly all the white/cream scraps on that Candy Coated quilt, which was gratifying until I unearthed a bag under the cutting table that held the remains of the previous multicolored Candy Coated quilt I made a few months ago. Some of the rows were too long, so I had trimmed them but left the sewn strips as seeds for the next CC. And the current multicolored scrap bag is stuffed. What to do except make another one?

These are the rows still left to finish. The completed strips are hanging on the fence in the hallway.

I am beginning to think the scraps multiply when I am not looking.

Lynne at the Patchery Menagerie blog had a post about this a few weeks ago. She said she had a moment of clarity (and terror) when she realized how many quilts were waiting to be made just from her scrap bins. Humble though my CC scrap quilts are, they use up fabric and that makes me happy. They’ve also been good projects for me to practice my machine quilting skills on. The sewing is easy—long strips cut into shorter strips and sewn into rows—which makes them great for days when I want to sew but don’t have the mental energy for anything more complicated.

I finished the project I was making with the Klum House waxed canvas. I noticed that the canvas tends to dry out after a few days, so perhaps it’s a matter of taking the yardage out before using and hanging it somewhere to allow the excess volatiles to evaporate. I wonder where they get their base canvas. It is a tighter weave than the AL Frances canvas. A combination of the Klum House base canvas and the AL Frances beeswax would be amazing.

I’m still plugging away at the embroidered squash project, but with less enthusiasm than I had when I started it. Part of the problem is that unless I buy a (very expensive) kit, I am having trouble finding all of the threads I need. Not all of the stitches and techniques are explained in the instructions, which requires going to Instagram to watch the IGTV videos. I have enough trouble watching YouTube videos through the Roku on my TV; I don’t have the patience to sit at my computer to watch them. Also, finding said videos was next to impossible when Instagram decided to block hashtags before the election. The whole project has been an exercise in frustration.

It’s a free pattern and I have no cause to complain. I’ve resigned myself to coming up with my own embroidery designs on the pattern using what I’ve got available. I’m trying to view it as another opportunity to be creative, although I am fumbling my way through parts of it. I’m disappointed, because I thought that embroidering squash would be fun and educational. It’s up to me to figure out how to make it that way.

It turns out that the homesteading chat group I belong to has quite a few stitchers in it. We’ve had some fun discussions over the past couple of days. And Elysian came over last evening to borrow a sewing book (which I told her to keep) so she could start working on some projects. Last spring, she scored a deal on a pristine Singer 600, one of the last 1960s models with metal gears, with all the accessories. She didn’t have a manual for it, but I had an extra one, so I gave her that along with a cutting mat, ruler, and rotary cutter. That should help get her started. I am looking forward to seeing what she makes. WS told me that he plans to make himself a pillowcase and I said I thought that was a great first project.

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The woods look much better after two days of us working out there. I, on the other hand, do not.

The husband looked at me at one point yesterday and said, “Did your hairline get singed?” Yep, it surely did. I had my hair tied back (for obvious reasons when working around fire), but I was walking up to one of the slash piles to throw an armful of branches onto it when the wind shifted unexpectedly and a gust blew the heat in my direction. A small section of my hairline and a bit of my eyebrows took a hit. You can’t tell when my hair is down, although it’s going to be annoying when those pieces start growing out again.

And this morning, I was pulling on a branch that was stuck under another branch when the second branch gave way suddenly and the first one came back and whacked me in the face by my lip. It bled a little bit.

The husband looked at it and said, “People are going to think I beat you,” but I assured him that anyone who knows me is not going to find it strange that I did this to myself. I am hardly an example of grace and coordination. I am going to quit while I’m ahead, however.

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It occurred to me that this December is going to be a lot less hectic than normal. I’m not playing for the Lutheran church because they are doing their midweek Advent services differently this year. And our choir is not singing on Christmas Eve, so we won’t have practices on Sunday afternoon. DD#2 is going to fly home for a couple of days at Christmas, but other than that, it will be a quiet one with no houseguests. What a strange year this has been.