Blog Posts

Spring renewal.....

5/31/2018

Bleeding Hearts watch over Honey's grave.

I’ve been gardening. I thought I was finished with maintaining the three fairly large patches that surround our house, but the guilt drove me to pick up a spade and start beating back the weeds once again. We won’t start working on our boat until the end of June so I didn’t have any excuse to avoid the yard work. And like I said, the guilt of neglecting all my little lovelies after I’d nurtured them for so long made me feel badly. I can't bring myself to desert my Peonies and beloved Lilies. I enjoy gardening very much, digging in the cool earth is satisfying, but as I get older I have to pick and choose where I expel my energies, its in shorter supply these days. I’ve hung up my superwoman costume, I’m more like old Ma Kettle now, my mouth gets more exercise than my body.

Last evening I was weeding the area around my pup’s graves. Louis, and now my Honey are resting in my garden; large slate rocks mark the spot. I sit a lot when I’m weeding to save my knees, and I took turns resting on their stones. I was struck by the lack of misting eyes; it’s so amazing how time can heal a broken heart. It never removes the entire ache because a true love never dies, but like a drug, time dulls the intensity of the pain. It’s hard to believe that only a few months ago I was a broken damn of tears, my soul dampened by the heartache of losing my precious Honey. The pain was so sharp and searing that I wouldn’t have fought my own demise just to stop the anguish.

I remember how I collapsed while burying her, the soil muddied by salty tears. A loud cry escaped me; surely the neighbours must have heard the mournful wail that echoed off the trees and hill. Shoveling that first bit of soil on her dear little body signified I would never see her again and my heart shattered into a million pieces. With each mound if dirt, the pain grew until a lump of despair threatened to choke me.

Now when I go out into the garden I look at Honey’s grave and there are no more burning tears, only a soft sadness remains, and smiles as I remember the little scamp that stole my heart. I guess I’ve stowed away the sorrow to make way for the memories. I think about the world and how many people and furry kids are beneath our soil, trillions perhaps and that’s a lot of grief for the ones left behind. Of course we never forget them, but we do move on despite the debilitating anguish of losing a loved one. How resilient we are.....

5 Comments

Christine's Picks - Limited time offer

5/26/2018

0 Comments

I have assembled some limited time bundles. My picks for you! Once sold these won't be available again. They consists of four 1/4 yds of hand-dyed wool and/or plaids that equal 1 yard. There are three 1 oz skeins of yarn hand-dyed as well as factory dyed, and various roving accents that blend. Selling fast, don't snooze or you'll lose. $69.95 ea

Mermaid Tail

Gentlemen Wear Plaid

Teal & Terricotta

Christmas Wish

Lily Garden

Forest Canopy

0 Comments

RIP Linda MacDonald

5/17/2018

12 Comments

Linda commanding the room at assembly.

I was shocked to learn that Linda MacDonald, wife, mother and friend to many, the director of this year’s rug school, past president of the Rug Hooking Guild of Nova Scotia and retired owner of Rags to Rugs Craft Shop died yesterday.

We weren’t close for all the years we’ve known one another from the rug hooking circuit, but this year at school I felt we made a connection. We chatted a few times about various things, this business, the pros and cons and we had a few laughs in between. They were short but meaningful conversations but what struck me the most was the way she looked at me when we spoke. She practiced the rare art of looking into my eyes when communicating, it was intense and I came away from her affected by it. I felt she would make a good friend. She was sincere to a fault, a rare commodity in today’s world.

Linda also had a really good sense of humour and I really enjoyed her stints behind the microphone for assembly and events held in the large common area room. She was comfortable behind the mic and her dry wit, which I've always deem the best kind, was highly appreciated. Her timing was perfectly executed.   I joked she should quit her day job and go out on the road as a comedian but she reminded me she was retired and not interested in another career. We laughed.

When we were setting up shop Sunday evening, the students flooded the area, picking through the items I was trying to unpack and display. I kindly said the shop would be open Monday morning at 9:00 a.m. but no one read between the lines and I wasn’t about to be rude and chase them away.  At some point Linda noticed the crowds gathering and came over and shouted bluntly, “Get Out!” They all scattered like fleas at a raid convention. I laughed at her boldness and she told me “Hey, they don’t have to like me.” Linda was petite in stature, but she sported six feet and 250 lbs. of authority.

I am infinitely sad for her family and close friends and all those in the rug hooking community that will share in this devastating loss.

12 Comments

'A New Shape For Summer' workshop with Heather Gordon

5/16/2018

0 Comments

Below are some of the patterns available. Contact Heather for pricing.

Posies in the Garden 10" x 15"
Bunch of Posies 12" x 15"
Playmates 9" x 12"
Baa-Baa Chair Pad 12" dia.
Bluenose At Home 10" x 12"

Participants may bring a pattern of their own if they wish. Contact Heather to register and order a pattern.

0 Comments

The joke's on me....

5/13/2018

6 Comments

At rug school they hold a silent auction and a live one, a fundraiser for the guild. People attending school bring items to donate and it is always a fun time. This year didn’t disappoint with Wanetta Evans as the auctioneer. As acting Treasurer, she pulled money out of our pockets like a pro, with hilarious antics. We were all in stitches, or I suppose being at rug school, in loops!

I bid on a Thirty-one tote which was perfect to lug my hooking frame around and will serve double duty to carry items to our boat. It’s made of strong vinyl and is sturdy with a metal frame that collapses nicely for storing. Mostly the items for auction are hooking related and with the shop I have everything I need so this bag was perfect for me to bid on. Once I spied it, I was determined it was going to be mine. Someone else wanted it too but there can only be one victor and I hung in till the glorious end. I paid way more than what it was worth but that’s okay, it was a charity donation and I always like to give back to rug school. The bag came filled with wool, yarn and bits and pieces of this and that for hooking, which I didn’t want so I donated it back immediately and they auctioned it off and made and extra $40.00 for the collection plate. All win, win and glorious fun.

The Guild raised around $2000.00 at that event and cheers went up by all. It was a hoot, one of the pinnacles of the week, with Wanetta at her microphone, truly it was almost a Depends moment. Really folks, rug school is way more than just rug hooking, the fun and entertainment in the evenings and people you meet, and although its cafeteria food it was delicious, I'm still thinking about that Butter Chicken the first night. Join our guild and sign up for next year when the classes are offered. It’s a week where you don’t have to cook or clean, the classes are amazing, the teachers are fabulous, the students produce incredible projects, it's like being in a candy bowl.

Throughout the week they held a silent auction where you could bid on items along the back wall, once again, things donated and mostly hooking related. Much to my excitement, someone had contributed a large coffee table, William Morris book. I’m a collector of any volumes about William Morris, I have a library in the Hook Nook filled with books on rug hooking and several on Morris, things I’ve collected since I began hooking all of 19 years ago. The books are there for anyone to peruse and enjoy.

So when I spied this book it was as good as mine. I watched the bids roll in and topped them each time. Another gal wanted it and her name was written down as much as mine but I teasingly told her I planned to take it and that she was more than welcome to come to the shop to read it there. We had a good laugh. She didn’t know I’m like a dog with a bone but she would find that out. Of course that made the joke on me even more hilarious.

So I bid on and finally just jumped a $10.00 increment to $60.00, figuring that would take all the others out of the equation and it worked, but I knew that a sniper bid could come in at the very last minute so as we waited for the auction to close I hovered around the book like a protective mother hen and was willing to take out anyone that approached. I know this sounds rather evil and I wouldn’t really have done it, but it was fun pretending and got a few laughs.

The book was beautiful and I could only imagine what lay between the covers....because I hadn’t mentioned that it was still sheathed in plastic, had never been opened or read. It was pristine for Christine. New and shiny like the day it rolled off the press. I would be the first to crack entrance to all the magic of William Morris. It was salacious!

So the book was mine. I paid my money and quickly ran to my lair; I mean my shop with the book tucked under my arm. I was almost giddy tearing off the plastic, like a Golem coveting the precious.

People were now heading to my shop so I was quickly leafing through the pages and it didn’t disappoint. It was stunning, colour plate after plate of unimaginably beautiful works of art. But then I saw a painting that wasn’t a Morris that I recognized as a Walter Crane, white horses making up a crashing wave, called The Horses of Neptune, and I looked to read the caption.

Well....I tried too. I’m not fluent in other languages because the book was entirely written in French! If I had taken the time to pick the book up and look at the back of the jacket I would have seen that it wasn't in English, like other, wiser folks told me they did. The front gave no indication.

I laughed out loud at my folly. It just goes to show that coveting is wrong, actually one of the seven deadly sins, and this was my punishment. On the flip side, I’ve read a lot of books on William Morris so I’m probably not missing much, the colour plates are all I need if I want to adapt any of them into a rug hooking pattern, and if I need help interpreting the names of his artwork, hubby can oblige. So Gail, come on by and look at the photos, unless of course you can speak French....

They say he who hesitates is lost, but it can also be said, he who jumps in without looking might get a surprise. It seems my life is always filled with amusing tales although at times things happen that are tragic, but if I wasn’t riding these ever present waves I'd be washed up on shore with nothing to write about......

6 Comments

Fun packed week at rug school.....

5/11/2018

9 Comments

I planned to write blogs at rug school but between the shop and fun, my evenings were chewed up and swallowed. What a slice! It was a fast and fruitful week, the van was a little less bulging on the way home. The shop was a huge success!

After setting up Sunday afternoon and into the evening which made for a long day, then open for business 11 hours on Monday I was wiped so I went to my room after closing and pretty much passed out. By Tuesday I got a second wind and stayed up to hear Don Tabor sing in the entry way accompanied by two guitarists and I must say, the hair on my arms raised a few times when he sang songs that brought back great memories. He’s been gifted with the art of song and is as comfortable on a stage as breaking bread with friends. Don is from Springhill where my mom was born and he also knows my cousin Joe in this wonderfully large, but small world.

I’ve been adopted by a couple of sisters who promised to visit Mahone Bay for continued fun; I sure hope they were serious! Everyone danced their arses off at Wednesday evening’s pub party. A DJ provided the tunes and we all cut up the dance floor, ripped it to shreds with our hip thrusts, arm swings and boogying down. The next morning my bad knee felt great and the good knee screamed a bit; all that twisting and shimmy, shimmy shaking. Not bad for a middle aged gal. I know I was transported as the tunes peeled back the years. Every Wednesday at school there is a theme night and this year was all about black and white and some of the get ups were hilarious and the dancing, oh the dancing, was the highlight of my week.

I asked the DJ for Uptown Funk by Bruno Mars and was obliged, twice. I love that song, it’s so upbeat and funky, who cares what the words are. The music inspires movement and if you can resist, you should be checked for a pulse.   I danced pretty much too every tune, except for those that I traded for rest in my chair and a mouthful of beer. Midnight came too fast and the plug was pulled all too soon. I staggered to the dorm, greased by a couple of micro-brewery beers and without much experience and tolerance for alcohol, the tipsy gauge moved a wee titch to the right. But no worries, my new sisters helped me home and like Vegas, What Happens At Rug School Stays There. I have the rug to prove it.

I designed this pattern years ago and Susan Leslie hooked it. We embellished it with some bling, a pair of glasses, scissors and a hook, the latter disappeared off the magnet a while ago. Note the slip under her dress as she kicks up her heels. Thence the name, “Kicking Up Your Heels”. The rug says it all. Too much sweet indulgence, a bit of social drinking, a lot of shopping and of course, rug hooking.

Thursday evening it all came to an end for the shop although the classes ran till Friday noon. Shane arrived late afternoon to deliver goods that people ordered throughout the week. He and Deborah were like little elves back at the shop dyeing wool and drawing patterns so I didn’t have to disappoint any customers with their wants and needs.

Thursday from 6:00 pm to 8:00 pm, there was a wonderful display of the student’s projects and let me tell you, they were awesome, this wonderful craft we love is reaching higher levels of creativity every year. Some of the projects raised the bar so high we will have to get out a vault pole to top them.

Three busloads and many outside admirers flooded the room until it roared; the collective oohs and aahs were excellent praise for work well done. Plus the student rug hookers and Teacher’s Branch pieces were still on display, wrapping the room in a wonderful artistic, rug hug. What a show it was!

After everyone left at 8:00 we went to work removing the shop. It takes far less time tearing it down then packing it up with a lot less inventory to address, so we slammed it all together in an hour. Shane drove the van and I had my car and thank goodness my Aunt Audrey came up for the drive with him so I had someone to drive home with me or perhaps they would have found me in a ditch. The last few minutes of the hour long drive I fought to resist yawning as the need to close my eyes crept in. I only managed two hours sleep the night before so I was dragging a bit.

When we hit Mahone Bay, we unloaded the van and I got home close to midnight and pretty much staggered into bed with my happy pups. It’s a lot of work and long days, and all the fun can take its toll but it's nothing a good nights sleep won't cure. I wouldn’t have changed a thing. It was a blast.

A big thank-you to Deborah and Shane for all their hard work to get me to school and then to come home and set it all back up. We are a great team! Thanks to Shane for all the heavy lifting.

A big thank-you for all the wonderful compliments for Shane’s dyed wool; he really is the Dye Guy!

A huge thank-you to all our wonderful customers who support us, we would be nothing without you!

And last but not least, a big thank-you to the Rug Hooking Guild of NS for selecting Encompassing Designs Rug Hooking Studio as the vendor for their 2018 rug school.

For all those heading back home, safe travels and hook on!

9 Comments

Honey, I smell diesel....

5/10/2018

0 Comments

How many of your diesel fuel tanks have erupted leaks, pouring its contents into the holding compartment. BLESS the holding compartment! Diesel fuel, like gasoline, is a hydrocarbon-based fuel. Short-term exposure such as when you fuel your truck or clean up a small spill, can temporarily irritate your eyes, skin or respiratory tract and/or cause dizziness, headache or nausea. However, longer-term exposure may lead to more serious health concerns, such as lung cancer, kidney damage, and increased risk of heart attack. Obviously Diesel is nothing to fool around with.

I should perhaps say at this point, one of these days I’ll post a blog about fun boating things, the bliss of being on the water, wind in our hair and sun smiling down on us, but in the meantime my stories are about fixing the boat, cleaning the boat, waxing the boat, refinishing the teak, applying elbow grease and breaking our backs working in tight quarters. Work, work and more work you say? Well to me this necessary, topical maintenance still rests in the fun category, I love that we are rejuvenating our boat, making her shine, but I don’t like when systems break down, the heavy maintenance repairs, the expensive jobs. Gregg tells me this is all a part of boat ownership, and Catalyst is 28 years old, so she occasionally needs more than a Band-Aid fix.

So about eight inches (at its deepest point) of fuel was sloshing about under my berth sending a cloud of fumes around my head. I sleep in the aft berth backwards to how it was intended in the layout drawings. I don’t like my pillows at the end of a mattress unsupported by a wall. I prop up and read at night, so I turned the blankets and pillows around and my feet are where my head was supposed to go. It’s a bit close, like lying in an over-sized coffin, and a bit tricky to crawl out of without bumping my head but comfortable when sleeping. We installed a reading light which has a red bulb so others can sleep, and that red glow doesn’t attract no-see-ums, before when wearing a head lamp, they would land on my book in clusters as they rushed to the white light. The red glow is also a better transition from light to darkness for sleep.

So my head is pretty much right over the holding area gap between the tank and the wall. The fuel had leaked, over half a foot of it that sloshed back and forth under and around the tank every time the boat gently swayed in the water. When it pooled under my head area the fumes drifted up around the mattress and my pillows to fill my nostrils with its strong, sickening stench. I don’t do well with gasoline and diesel fumes; headaches form and my glands puff in my neck as the toxins invade my body.

Waking an uncustomary amount of times through the night, as my headache grew I wondered why it? I went up to the cockpit and used a flashlight to see if our boat was leaking, looking for the skim of oil on the surface but there was nothing. Later that night as the smell seemed to grow stronger, I opened the small cockpit window that is in the aft birth area thinking once again that the smell was coming from the outside, someone else’s boat problem leaching into the night, but the air coming in smelled a heck of a lot better than what was seeping out. I assumed then that the smell was coming from the engine that was only a thin wall away from where I was bunking. It was a pitiful night’s sleep and in the morning I told Gregg about the fumes and he and a friend went looking for the source. It was quite the surprise finding the yellowish culprit free standing below my bunk. We had the boat hauled soon after.

Unfortunately, Catalyst always smelled of diesel so it wasn’t out of the ordinary to have trace hints of it, but this was more concentrated. The engine came with problems and an oily surface was always skimming the top of the rain water in the bilge from various leaks we hadn’t located yet. Almost pretty with its shimmering iridescence, the rainbow of colours was an oily bitch to remove. We went through a lot of dish detergent to get rid of the greasy residue and Dawn, good to its name, removed it. So I grew accustomed to the odor as if it was Catalyst’s personal scent. Friends complained about it every time they came on board but ours had been a salt water girl and used harder than their boat that lived on a lake for most of its life and was as pampered like a baby. Through inexperience I didn’t know how a boat should smell and with the engine sitting behind a thin piece of plywood only inches away from the living space, I thought it natural to be living with odors.

After the engine had died and been fixed three times, the smell of diesel had dulled to a standstill but now it seemed back with a vengeance. The weird thing was that the fumes would come and go every minute or so. I didn’t realize the rocking and spinning of the boat on the anchor was the reason and why should I? How did we know that the 28 year old tank below my berth had reached its life span and picked that week to finish chewing its way through the metal, allowing it to leak? Luckily for us the tank sat in a sealed holding area, with a wall of batteries on the other side. More importantly, we’re lucky diesel isn’t highly flammable! If it hadn’t been self-contained it would have leaked everywhere and found its way under the floor boards, splashing up along her sides behind all the build ins, permeating the entire belly of her beamy bottom. We would have had to dismantle everything in the cabin to clean underneath. It would have been a disaster and we’d have to wear hazmat suits and masks on our weekend jaunts to the islands until the smell faded away.

Luckily it was the end of the season, we hauled the boat and Gregg removed the old tank. He ordered a new one to be made over the winter. He gave the old one to Peter Tanner in Blue Rocks to use as a template and Gregg requested it to be built a half inch shorter so he could put soft bracing beneath it to prevent future chaffing which caused the breakdown and holes. The stainless tank came shiny and new and Gregg installed it in the spring, filled it with diesel and fired up the engine. No leaks. No odor. Our boat now smells awesome, well, not as awesome as a bouquet of flowers, it is an old boat after all, but pleasant is an accurate descriptor. Just another tale to write in the book of Catalyst II, Nonsuch extraordinaire.

0 Comments

I'm at Rug School!

5/6/2018

0 Comments

Hey all, I'm at rug school! How cool is that! I'm tired to the marrow but really excited. Thanks to Shane and Deborah for all their help. There is no way I could have done this on my own. Thanks also for all the extra hours you pitched in to help stock the shelves, packing and unpacking and setting up.

Tomorrow I open at 9:00 am and a friend is coming to help me. Outsiders are welcome to come in and shop and see the awesome rug display that's across me me. I had a peek this evening and it's mind blowing! So I'm off to bed for an early start tomorrow. I'll be reporting from rug school central all week. Here is a preview of all our awesomeness!

0 Comments

FYI

5/4/2018

0 Comments

The shop will be closed at 1:00 pm tomorrow (Saturday) so we can pack up for rug school. Sorry for the inconvenience but....packing usually takes about four or five hours and we are all wiped and need a decent rest and night's sleep to recharge for the trip to the city on Sunday. The shop will be open all week although it won't be so full and lush as usual. See you when I get back if not at rug school!

0 Comments

Sweet Indecisions

5/2/2018

3 Comments

I’ve been working on “Sweet Indecisions” on and off for over two weeks. I was commissioned to do a pattern of a woman of size in an ice cream parlor and this is the destination of my traveling mind.

This pattern was a bit of a challenge to design and a witch to draw. All those straight lines of the windows, the door and floor around all of the motif. Straight lines have to be drawn separately and the red dot has to sit on the pattern perfectly straight. Me and my detail. Whoever takes this one on better like working in a bit of #3 cuts. I’d do it in #3 and #5.

Making the scene look like an ice-cream parlor from the inside looking out took a bit of planning. Then I had to figure out how much detail of the outside should show through the windows. There comes a point when too much motif can detract from the focal point of the rug so I allowed a Volkswagen Beetle to be parked outside the door but added nothing to show through the large plate glass windows. There was enough going on with the backwards lettering of ICE CREAM on one window and PARLOR on the other and the back side of the awnings to fill the space.

At one point I had people sitting at the tables, one couple sharing a milkshake, sipping at two straws like love struck teenagers but I erased them, left the milkshake, perhaps they both snuck off for a little hanky-panky in the bathroom. Once again keeping it simpler to focus on the main point which is; a customer looking up at the implied billboard with a 150 flavours of ice-cream, cakes, cupcakes and milkshakes and trying to pare it down to one choice, one flavour; hence “Sweet Indecisions”.

Like I usually do, as a design is evolving, I think about colours and for this one all I could see was pink, like a big puff of cotton candy had filled my brain. Pink is happy and feminine, girly all the way and I associated it with candy as well.   Perhaps bubble gum is the influence, or wintergreen mints, suckers, Popsicles, sweet hearts, chicken bones, Dum Dums, gumballs, strawberry ice-cream, milkshakes and remember pink popcorn? I can almost smell the sugar and feel a cavity in my back molar.

I envisioned the awnings to be pink and black. The tiles on the floor could be pink and black, pink walls with white woodwork. I feel this piece should emanate a pink aura with accents of all the lovely colours that compliment it, like soft greens and yellows, oh yes, I can see it now. If I get time I’d like to colour this one in using Photoshop, if only I could stretch the day like a rubber band.

I would really like to hook this one for the fun of it and hang it in the shop as a light and airy summer piece, but alas, I know I won’t. I have so many items I need to hook on my list; seven remaining risers, and another rug for our boat for the North American Nonsuch Rendezvous being held in Halifax in August this year. It’s an exciting event with our Nonsuch boats on display, showing and sharing how we appoint them, renewing the bright work, polishing the stainless, swabbing and waxing the decks, improvements etc.   For me, a colourful, nautically inspired, custom rug will go a long way to pimping our boat in an extra and unique way. I’ve already completed a compass rose rug and now I want a companion piece with the same rich palette for below the companionway stairs. Luscious nautical reds, deep navy blues and glorious golds will adorn her teak and holly floor as two, one-of-a-kind hooked rugs providing beauty and non-slip walking though the cabin. Yup, I plan to mix my passions, marry sailing and my beloved craft as much as time allows!   I have also designed what I am calling, Encompassing Designs Tartan, which will be the center of this new pattern. Stay tuned.

3 Comments

Countdown to Rug School - 7 days

4/29/2018

0 Comments

I suppose you are wondering where I've been. I was going great guns with my ‘pattern a day’ but reality kicked in and there was so much more I needed to get ready for rug school that kind of fell by the wayside. In case you are wondering why there have been blogs about our boat, I've been posting recycled stores because I started a new Facebook page called Nonsuch Musings that I hope to attract other Nonsuch boat enthusiasts to swap maintenance stories, adventures and misadventures and haven't had time to set up an independent blog site. This year is the International Nonsuch Association Rendezvous in August and it's going to be an exciting time meeting other Nonsuch folk. I have two passions, rug hooking and our boat, so I have to split my time to feature both.

Back to hooking. Shane couldn’t get all the dyeing done to fill the racks when custom orders keep him pretty much busy all day long so I've been doing a double shift in the evenings to dye wool for the shop. There’s only a week left before I U-haul out of here so this week will be even more critical to get all the things scratched off the list. We are having meetings to keep on track, double checking lists and still coming up with new ideas. This week I’ll try to get back to patterns, perhaps I’ll set them up and Deborah can knock them out.

I’ve been living off pizza and chicken wings; take-out is so much easier than going home to cook and I can stir dye pots while stuffing my face: multi-tasking all the way to the finish line. I’m avoiding my house as much as possible because if I sit down I’ll get lazy and be seduced into staying home or worse fall asleep. I’ve been taking my pups to work with me and they aren’t that impressed cause mommy can't plan with them but I'm sure they are happier to be with me than home alone. I’m already thinking how I’ll miss them while I’m away but I know their hearts will grow fonder and I’ll be knocked over with kisses when I get home.

I felt a little tired today and my legs screamed at me this evening but overall I’m on a high, working hard towards a goal is always exciting. Audrey came by to help me today with a yarn project and said she would be back tomorrow to do a bit more and every day until they are all done. Something new and exciting.....

Well, time for bed, tomorrow is a shit storm day with an appointment for personal taxes and my vehicle plate renewal, because it’s the end of the month I’ll probably have to sit there awhile, guess I’ll use it productively to redo lists or perhaps nod off a bit. Then I have various errands to do for supplies. Then back to my wonderful world of colour and all the beautiful wool.

This is actually a recycled photo....there is way more wool but haven't taken any photos.

0 Comments

Cetol and the swim ladder

4/25/2018

0 Comments

This isn't rust, it's Cetol.

Once again I had to battle my nemesis Cetol. Heading to the boat in the marina tender you could see the orangey dried drips all over the metal swim ladder as we approached. Because the ladder hangs upside-down when not in use, all the drips and blotches of of the finish stood out like a sore thumb. I looked the product up on the internet and it comes three colors: Cetol Marine, which has an attractive dark amber appearance on wood, Cetol Marine Light, which has a lighter amber appearance on wood, and Cetol Marine Natural Teak, which has a rich golden color that enhances the natural beauty and grain of wood. I think what I'm removing must be the dark amber. The product had mixed reviews, the pro side outweighed the list of cons. As in anything, I guess it depends on how well it's applied.

For us, the Cetol was badly administered and probably slapped on over teak that had already begun to show mold and white areas where the varnish had lifted. What I removed was thick, layers of varnish and Cetol, so the grain of the beautiful wood no longer showed. The teak was actually so worn and tired looking that I thought at first it would have to be replaced and was truly amazed that it could be stripped down and come back from the grave so full of life. So I removed the teak, heat gunned off the old finish, sanded, bleached and applied eight coats of Gloss Epiphane. It was truly an amazing transformation. The wood grain and patina under the new glossy finish was breathtaking. Next I tackled the rack.

Unfortunately, the Cetol was spread all over the swim ladder metal as well. They obviously brushed all the surrounding areas along with it, plus the drips that splattered all over the side rungs. I tried a list of things to dissolve the finsh, lacquer thinner did nothing to penetrate the coating and whatever else was suggested I tried but it wouldn’t release its grip. I even tried chipping it off but that was time consuming and because I was working with a round metal tube and a flat chisel, the two shapes only connected in a thin line so I had to be really careful not to scratch the metal. A friend suggested paint remover andloaned me his can, a smelly chemical that always bothered me when I used to strip furniture, but with a mask, rubber gloves and fine steel wool it did the trick. It was a low odor product and if that's the case I would hate to think what the really smelly stuff could do, b=probably cause a buzz for a good ling time or headaches on top of headaches. All I'm saying, before I started using it my hair was straight, now it's curly.....

The Cetol was coated in all the welded areas where the step rungs met the side rails but I got in the creases with strands of fine steel wool and used it like dental floss back and forth to clean out the grooves. Working with steel wool is messy and the little fibers go everywhere and you can’t leave any behind on the metal or they will rust. I learned my lesson the hard way using it on the boat to clean the rust off the exposed metal of the lifelines; tiny bits blew around the scuppers and on the gelcoat of the deck that left little rust marks after moisture got to them. More work for me.

After Cetol was removed off of the metal ladder, then I used a marine metal polish and buffed them to a shine to protect it from the salt water. I always thought stainless steel didn’t rust but there must be something else in it because it forms in scratches and the bond where the metal is joined. It seems to need constant polishing each year.

Sorry I don’t have a picture of the finished job; it now sparkles like a diamond in the sun and satisfies the crow in me. And even better, when the tender takes us to our boat my chest puffs with pride. That sure was a lot of work for a piece of equipment that we don’t even use. I don’t swim all that well, doggy paddle is my speed, and we board along the starboard side with a neat step fender, but it’s all part of the overall look of the boat and one must keep up appearances.

0 Comments

Ships that pass in the night....almost.....

4/23/2018

1 Comment

The other boat's paint rubbed along the gunnel rubber.

Well, I made it through the weekend without further mishap. No broken bones, no more bruising. Maybe the reign of accident proneness is over. It’s all a matter of getting used to a different circumstance, getting into the swing of things. Really, how much boating experience have I had over the past decade....let me see, none, so I think I’m adapting well.

I can’t say the same for our boat. She had a spot of trouble that I’m still obsessing over. Someone rammed her. Scraped along her side like a peeler on a carrot, removing paint, leaving lots of scratches and two ten inch long gouges under the gunnel. In turn, their boat left paint smudges along the rub rail so like Cinderella's lost slipper, it's a bit of a telltale calling-card if we can find the boat to match the paint.

A damaged boat is bad enough, but they also boarded her sometime during the night or early morning. A thief, a modern day pirate, on the water. They rolled up and rammed her and then looked for something to steal. Ruffed her up a bit by throwing her cushions around and going into the cockpit locker, leaving her defiled and disrespected.

Catalyst came with a problem with her port aft locker. The hinge part didn't meet with the loop thingy to be able to put on a padlock but that was rectified yesterday so we won’t be vulnerable again. We think they hoped it was like a lot of other boats that have an entry, a through and through, to the main cabin from the cockpit. Fortunately ours doesn’t unless you want to crawl over the large Westerbeke engine. I would imagine they were looking for alcohol and at that point we were dry so they barked up the mast!

Pirates! They’ve been around since Natal Day, drunks partying all around our harbour, drinking and shouting arrr...and acting like asses, flying skull and crossbones flags like it’s something to celebrate and firing off cannons all evening long to scare the heck out of anyone near.   I don’t get it, why would anyone want to glorify and emulate a pirate? A dirty, cold blooded scoundrel, that would kill you for a pence and take what you have without conscience. I guess the Mahone Bay Pirate Festival lost its appeal for me when one guy whipped it out and peed off one of the loud party boats in full view of anyone sitting leisurely in their cockpit around them. I'm not a prude, I'm not offended by a penis, but it is disrespectful and disgraceful for visitors who moor in our marina with children on board to have to see it. I have no problem with people having fun but one of them messed with our boat so the gloves are off....

The damage to the boat is fixable. We'll have to buy a special product to fill the gouges, then sand for a flawless finish that blends with the side, followed by wet sanding to smooth it like glass, then tape off, prime and paint the entire sheer. I planned to do this in the spring before launching anyway but I’ll have to live with it until then and that’s the pain. I’ll be reminded of her injury every time I row to her and then again when we leave. My lovely sea cottage beaten and bruised. She's supposed to be the place where we can stop and smell the seaweed, not have to deal with the seedy side of life.

Knowing someone was aboard uninvited, with intent to steal our possessions is unsettling but I'm trying to dwell on the positive that they weren't successful and treat it as a lesson to learn from. It’s basically a cottage like any other, just because it’s on the water doesn’t make it any less exposed to theft. The locker is now padlocked; hubby worked at it all evening yesterday. It looked like a small job but it never is, and probably the reason it hadn’t been addressed by the previous owners. The correction was a finicky fit with several tries but now it’s secured in case anyone else has pilfering ideas.

All the signs had been there but we talked ourselves out of them. When we approached the boat we noticed the step fender was down. Oops on my part we thought, as that is the last thing I do after I step into the tender. Then we noticed the lifeline gate was unhitched, oops on me again, I must be falling down on the job, literally and figuratively. Then we noticed a cockpit cushion was off the rear seat and thrown on top of the one on the opposite side. No wind could do that. I'd fallen down the companionway the evening before and was a little distracted with my aches but to be that careless, three times in a row?

Then we noticed the wishbone was swaying back and forth more than usual. Gregg found the prevent; a fitting to hold the wishbone steady had broken off and was allowing everything to flop back and forth as the boat rolled in the wakes and waves. He figures the jolt of being hit by the renegade boat snapped it. Something else to fix.

We reported the incident to the harbour crew and we were told that no one else had complained about their boats being boarded but then some sit on the moorings for weeks without the owners coming out to check on them. There is a wharf surveillance camera that didn’t quite reach where our boat is moored but they were going to check the tapes to see if there was a boat headed that way or coming from that area that matches the paint smudges left behind. I hope they catch whoever did this; our lovely marina doesn’t need a dark spot on its great reputation to take away from the peace of mind of the owners who trust their boats are safe.

Once again I had a SIGHHHHHH moment. It would be great to get through one day without a story to tell. I would appreciate a bit of mundaneness, a day so irritatingly boring I’ll then appreciate all the drama our life seems to produce.

Scratches, rubs and gouges in the navy sheer stripe.

1 Comment

More Boat Bites....

4/22/2018

0 Comments

"IF YOU FALL I'LL BE THERE." - FLOOR

It seems my lovely boat has forsaken me again. I’m working hard to clean and polish her and she’s biting the hand that feeds....although in her defense, I’ve been doing some pretty silly things. Dropping a door on my foot, really, how dumb was that? Yes I was tired but I’m a big strong girl! I need to get a grip, literally! I’m starting to wonder if I’ve lost a few cards from my deck.

Like tonight for instance, I broke my own rule of always going down the companionway steps backwards. I was heading down front-ways carrying a duffel bag , slipped and fell on my backside on the galley floor. The water was calm and clear as glass, no rocking and rolling to blame it on, just me being clumsy. My knee wasn’t in the best shape so the fall only added to that woe. My hip and tailbone were banged pretty hard on the edge of the last step so yet another bruise to add to my collection. My flailing body filled the entire galley floor with my head smashed up against the propane stove.

With no way to brace myself to get my bearings, hubby had to assist me up. I’m sputtering and complaining with fury-crying in between. Fury crying is the dry kind, no tears just frothing madness. Hope I'm not crossing the line on showing body parts, this is the back of my leg, I'll spare you my tail bone. To say I bruise easily would be a misnomer, I'm working darn hard to get each and every one.

I’m wondering what the people on the other boats around us think? There's been a lot of screaming after injuries and yesterday I accidentally broke one of the sliding Plexiglas doors to a storage cupboard in the galley and let out a mournful cry. Good luck finding a suitable replacement and colour match to that 28 year old item.

Maybe the neighboring boaters think we're doing the horizontal mambo or perhaps, that hubby is using me as a punching bag. Luckily most of the bruising is hidden by my clothing and really, I don't know what rumor I'd rather start, that I'm frisky or accident prone. Anyway, I have to be careful and most accidents can be avoided with a bit of thinking.

After I fell, I gathered the pups and crawled between the sheets in the bow berth to lick my wounds and fell instantly asleep while hubby worked on the bilge pump. He said there was a bit of soft purring, his words for my snoring, although soft wouldn’t be the best descriptor for the sounds that have been known to crawl out of my throat.

I admit it, I snore when I lie on my back, doesn't everyone? Sometimes I awaken so suddenly from a loud snort the sound is still reverberating in my ears so there’s no denying it and no need to sugar coat it with words like purring. No cat I know purrs like that. After one of these rather abrupt awakenings, it's comical to see the pups staring at me as if to say “What the heck was that mom?”

After I awoke from my nap the ache in my tailbone had diminished and after checking it out, that's when I found this lovely bruise on the back of my left leg. My frame must be pretty tough; these accidents are probably a good substitute for a bone density test so on the bright side, I'm saving the province a few hundred dollars in medical procedures. Perhaps I'll just throw myself down the stairs once every couple of years to see if anything gives, if not I'm good to go cause if my aging bones were chalky I’d be in a body cast by now.

And even though the evening didn't end on a great note, I won’t let this latest incident cloud what had been a fabulous time on the water. The weather was pure perfection! The town was filled to the brim with tourists and rug hookers from all over North America popped into the shop that morning to say hello. Several, who follow my blog asked how my foot was doing.   I was so touched!

0 Comments

Engine troubles, 1, 2, & 3

4/20/2018

0 Comments

We bought our boat unseen. Gregg works in another province and his schedule didn’t line up for a personal inspection. We had to trust that the photos were current and the survey guy wasn’t dishonest, after experiencing a costly trip to St Croix to look at a boat that appeared pristine in the ad but was in a sad state of affairs when he got there. The guy didn’t even go out to the boat ahead of time to air it out, so Gregg was nasally assaulted by decaying garbage bags that had been left closed up on board in tropical temperatures to ferment. The boat was so neglected a penny had fused into the varnish on the floor and all the teak and holly flooring was moldy and the black crawled up the walls as if the boat had sunk at one point and was put away wet. They used the photos in the ad of when they purchased her and at that time she was in beautiful shape. We complained to the agent and found out the seller was his good friend and even though we sent dozens of pictures to confirm our disappointment he never did change the listing page. We learned the term buyer beware, but when we found Catalyst II we had to go on faith. She was the one and after asking the most important question of the surveyor, are you best friends or related to the seller, he laughed and said no, that the boat was in good shape and we had nothing to worry about.

Catalyst is not a youngin, she was built in 1988 so one has to expect problems. The only hope is that they’re fixable and at a decent cost. I keep hearing how a boat is a hole in the water that you throw money into and then we all laugh, albeit nervously.

Catalyst's engine has died three times since taking ownership in 2015. Not knowing her history this cat boat could have used up most of her nine lives so we are trying to take good care of her in her senior years. Our breakdown was when Gregg and friends sailed the boat to Nova Scotia from its home port in Newfoundland after we purchased her. The engine guy figured it was something from the original installation that got stirred up from the rocking and rolling of the sea. It blocked the fuel line and there was that dreaded silence. After several hours Gregg’s brother found the offending piece that caused the grief.

Left to right, Terry, Gregg's brother, Gregg on the phone to me saying the engine was working, and the engine guy from NL, sorry I can recall his name. The offending bit that clogged the line.

Once the boat was home we had our local engine guy come on board to inspect the motor before going on a trip down the coast of NS and he told us quote “she’s ready to go to Bermuda”. Two days in and the engine died, in a thick fog and hurricane swells that were coming up from a storm in the US. We were towed to the closest Marina by our friends Nonsuch that was traveling with us. A hairy trip when the lead boat would disappear below us in a rolling sea and then would pop up and we would then be low in the trenches as the waves rocked our haul. With absolutely no sailing experience in rough seas, I believed we would die, surely a 28 year old boat couldn’t hold together after taking such a beating. We had four dogs on board and I had to be below with them because the boat was rocking and rolling so much they could have been thrown out of the cockpit into that angry sea, never to be seen again. (Gregg say’s I’m dramatic......)

Because I was below I was so sick I had petechiae hemorrhaging around my eyes from retching, an intensity not seen since my pregnancy 35 years before when my head hung in the bowel upwards of six times a day. I wet my pants and maybe something else, from the violent heaving, my body thrusting upwards and over the sink with each gut purge. The pups, bless their little frightened little souls watched me with eyes as big as saucers and when I was able to lie on the berth, smelly from my ordeal, they crowded next to me for comfort and safety. (I’m not sure who was being comforted the most, them or me.) Luckily they didn’t get sick. But the tow boat’s dog didn’t fare as well and heaved a few times. One time as we lay in the aft berth the boat slammed down on a wave so violently, my entire body rose off the mattress in a split second hover.

Oh and I should mention, at one point the tow boat's engine sputtered and threw out some smoke and he quickly turned it off. I'm not sure if anyone else was crapping bricks but you can see how foggy it was and the nearby shore sounded like thunder as the waves crashed on it. Chris figured out that the prop was tied up with all the stirred up sea grass so he donned his wet suit and fins and jumped in the water to free it. The other problem, we couldn't turn things on to risk draining the batteries without an engine to charge them. We were certainly roughing it in this wild, misadventure.

But like giving birth, a day later and the pain is gone and once the seas calmed and the threat of death had passed it was becoming a distant memory. Once the engine was repaired, the sail home was awesome, perfect in every way as if nature felt sorry for us and wanted to appease my worries, make me love my beautiful boat again.

I ribbed the engine guy when he came to rescue us at the Lahave River Yacht Club, "You said we could go to Bermuda, you didn’t say the Bermuda Triangle!" He thought that was hilarious. This time it was water in the lines and he put on a new Racor fuel filter to replace the inferior one that was there, got rid of the water in the lines and we were good to go.

The prop is now untangled and Chris is climbing up on the swim platform behind the suspended dingy.

100 feet of rope and sometimes you could barely see the tow boat ahead.

The third time, last summer, we had just launched out of South Shore Marine and planned to motor to Mahone Bay about two hours away. We weren’t quite ready with the lines, we planned to address this at our mooring in the bay. The engine died a couple of miles out with alarm blaring as it overheated. Of course there were strong winds that time. I’ve never seen my husband move so fast getting her ready to sail to keep her off the rocks. Yes if the shore got too close we would have thrown out an anchor but he was spry and quick and we got under sail within a few minutes. We made it to Strum’s island in a fading breeze so we were forced to call the marina tender to tow us in. Our poor little wounded boat, limping along behind the rescue tender.

Three times breaking down made me loose a little faith in our boat and quite frankly it scared me. We have a lot riding on this cork in the bathrub, our pups are my babies. Gregg laughed and said this was par for the course, he's an old salty dog that’s been around so he wasn't phased in the least, well he said he was 'concerned' being towed in the large ocean swells and fog, but that was as much as he'd admit and my pants would argue with that. I was starting to doubt my boat, was it forsaking me? Perhaps I wasn’t the princess I thought I was, floating around in my teak womb feeling all happy and smug, maybe the universe was throwing out a humbling lesson.

This time it was the thermostat and along comes the engine guy. Gregg was called away to work the day we launched the boat, not a great day overall, so she sat on the mooring for three weeks until the part arrived. I was there to lend a helping hand and fetch tools and listened to the guy complain about the Westerbeke not being a great one to work on with its massive bulk and limited space. He would have to get to the back of the engine to install a thermostat that was actually missing, apparently they couldn’t get the cap back with it in place so they took out the thermostat all together. The engine guy struggled with it as well and after the fourth time got the cap threaded on properly so it didn't ooze coolant, which had been leaking into the bilge since the engine died. Then he did some things to the heat exchanger which we plan to replace this year.

On a happy note, without being able to stand, he would have had to lay his body over the engine to get to the back and was delighted to hear that the entire cockpit floor lifted off for easy access on the 33. I found this out by accident when I was cleaning the cockpit but later read about it in the Nonsuch 33 Specs I found online. I think being able to stand or sit on the milk crate and work in the spacious back end of the engine, he was happier to hang around longer and find an even more serious problem lying in wait.

I asked him what he thought of the flow of engine exhaust water coming out of the stern. He wasn’t happy with it at all. Gregg had never been happy with the flow either, thinking it was a little too little. He asked other Nonsuch owners if their boats had better flow. Everyone told him it was fine. The boat wasn’t overheating that much but perhaps it ran a bit high. We weren’t using the motor a lot, Gregg is a seasoned sailor so sometimes we’d even sail right off the mooring and to it. Mostly we ran the engine to charge the batteries while at anchor so it wasn’t taxed a lot.

Engine guy, I should use his name, Kenny, didn’t like the flow and went looking for a problem. He’s happily sitting on an inverted plastic milk crate checking out the strainer. He decided to remove the hard, black hoses from the raw water strainer. He struggled trying to pull them off after the clamps were removed but they had fused to the metal and finally he had to cut them off with a hack saw then carve the remaining bits off with a box cutter. They must have been replaced at one point because he commented that it really wasn’t the right material used, whatever this stuff was it went hard as a rock. He said he would put on new plastic piping so we can see the water flow to and from the strainer, that way it would be easier to check for particles getting in.

What he removed from the old hose was mind blowing. With tweezers, Kenny kept pulling seaweed from the small opening, probably stuck in there from Newfoundland because the boat didn’t have good flow since we bought it. I put a screw next to it to show a size comparison and the pipe was no bigger than a dime in diameter so that was a a sizable clump of plug, not much water was getting by it. So he put everything back together, opened the sea cock, turned on the engine and we hung our heads over the side. The water came gushing out of the pipe like a mini Niagara Falls and we high-fived. I made a short video so I could send it to Gregg in Alberta.

I am amazed at the chronological timing of events. The boat seems to deliver only one disaster at a time, but as soon as we fixed one problem another cropped up so we are systematically repairing or replacing one thing after another....stay tune next for the diesel tank rupture, another stinky story, literally....

Coolant mixed with all the rain water leaks on the boat. Wish we had a dollar for every time Gregg or I sponged out the bilge until we found all the offending leaks and fixed the engine problems. Fresh water, diesel and coolant, always something, except never salt water, that's a whole other kind of problem.....

0 Comments

Doors in the making.

4/19/2018

0 Comments

Our friend Chris, also a Nonsuch guy and my husband Gregg are in the process of building saloon doors for both of our boat companionways. After my accident with the sliding panel falling on my foot I’m 100% on board with this improvement.

I’d been looking at these doors on other boats online for some time and I really liked the ones with the tapered louvers following the shape of the door and the guys were on the same page and designed them that way.

An added feature perhaps not unique, but different, they also put an opening for a window in the top to be able to see out, or in, perhaps to show the black flies and mosquitoes that swarm outside at dusk what delicious meals they're missing on the other side.

The doors will have release hinges, perhaps called break away? So if more space is needed in the cockpit they can be stowed below. The guys decided not to make them out of teak, I wasn’t in on the decision making but knowing how frugal both are I’m sure it was the cost that determined the use of mahogany. Chris has a stain that apparently once it’s applied; we won’t be able to tell the difference from teak. Because these doors will always be under the dodger they should wear as well as teak and need little maintenance over the years.

I can’t wait until they are turned over to me for the varnishing. I love this task so much I’d give up rug hooking and pick up a brush for a career. When I was a wee girl, my mom affectionately called me “crow” because of my attraction to shiny objects and the mirror sheen on teak brings out the glee in me. Not only diamonds are forever, a little care here and there and teak can be as well. Stay tuned for the finished product, varnished and installed.

0 Comments

The Tell-Tale Stain.....

4/18/2018

1 Comment

Pretty ugly staining on the floor board and corner. Hard to believe it was only surface damage to the varnish and the teak was fine underneath.

When Gregg arrived home from Newfoundland with Catalyst II, one of the first things I noticed was damage to the teak and holly floor in the salon. The one ceiling hatch had leaked for years and still did when we bought her, the rubber gasket had cracked and no longer provided a tight sealed. We always made sure a bucket was placed to catch the rain to prevent further damage until we fixed the problem.   And there were several other leaks where the source wasn’t so obvious that tormented us. Finding a leak on a boat is like being a forensic detective. Water can come from anywhere, drip along a wire and come out far away from where it entered. We had paper towel stuck everywhere to see if we could track the entry.

We had water in the head cupboards, the galley cupboards, the bar and scariest of all, behind the electrical panel. Sometimes there would be water, other times not, depending on the wind direction and driving force of the rain. We spent days and weeks trying to isolate the leaks, shaking our heads all the way. Our bilge always had water in it, not enough for the pump to come on but enough to get out the sponge and bucket. We’d climb on board and hold our breath as we lifted the floor boards and sometimes we rejoiced but mostly we just groaned. It was a frustrating time trying to pin point the problems but one by one we persevered and rectified them all. Now all that remained was the damage done to the teak that had continually been wet.

I know I can’t make our boat look brand new, she has too many nautical miles on her, but that horrible dark water spot and corner delamination on the floor was ugly. In the corner, the hole for the screw to hold the floor down had been eaten around the metal so it would need patching then re-drilling.

Gregg and I tossed around the various repair options. Most likely, we figured that whole edge would need to be removed and a new section installed. Buying a long skinny piece of the teak plywood wasn’t even an option, we would have had to spend lots of dollars for a larger piece then slice a section off and then it wouldn’t match with new wood beside the old. The only job that would have appeased my anal retentiveness would have been a brand new floor and with the price of teak, I wasn’t willing to sell a kidney for it. Covering the cabin sole with hooked rugs felt like sweeping dirt under a mat, and even if no one knew the stain was there it would have been like Poe’s Tell-Tale Heart for me.

So I gave the board to Steve, a master wood worker that makes a lot of the products I sell in my rug hooking business, like frames and rug hooks and all else required. I made suggestions of things Gregg and I had discussed and then left it in his capable hands. He had the repair done in a couple of hours and I picked it up and he told me he didn’t have to remove the large stain area because he used a card scraper to gently peel off the cracked and stained varnish to expose pristine teak underneath. Lucky for us, teak is very hard and almost impenetrable. I couldn’t tell a stain had been there. WOW I thought. He glued the end bit, repaired the small piece of holly that had delaminated and broken off and put on a bit of stain to give it the aged patina to match the remaining boards. Amazingly simple and I couldn’t believe our good fortune that it was an easy and inexpensive fix.

So now the fun began, refinishing all the floor boards with Epiphane varnish. I had a choice, strip them down to the bare wood and bleach out any dark marks, making them fresh and almost new in appearance or I could lightly sand them down and recoat, leaving the small scratches and character marks of the past 28 years. I’m no fool, after renovating two houses I know nothing lasts forever. I could spend hours restoring those boards and within a year it would be looking used once again. And the most important rule I’ve learned, viewing anything from five feet away you barely see finite details and unless it's been a really good party, no one should really be that close to the floor. At some point everything that takes daily wear and tear has to be redone so why go to the trouble of making the floor look newish when it will be scratched probably within the first day of walking on it. At the time we had four pups and their little toenails will mark any surface unless it’s titanium so I didn’t feel like spending all the extra hours to accomplish a flawless finish that wouldn’t last.

So I hand sanded, the veneer on the plywood is very thin so I was careful not to break through when I concentrated in a particularly deep scratch area, and then I wiped it down with Epiphane thinner then started applying the varnish. That first coat is always the most dramatic, absorbs in and pulls out that golden patina of the grain and I was pleased how it looked. With a light sanding in between coats I put on six high gloss layers. High gloss will show any imperfections, sort of magnifying them in the shine but it comes with the best hardness for a floor finish. I would have applied more coats on but I only had a week for them to cure before installing them back in the boat. A month would have been better but Catalyst was now ready for launching and there would be time next season to add more coats.

So we installed them and what a difference it made. My eyes no longer kept obsessing about the flawed areas as they were now drinking in the mirror shine and beautiful patina of the wood. Of course I plan to hook more rugs to cover the rest of the floor, complementary mats to match my compass rose one there now. The pups don’t like jumping from the aft berth to the slippery floor so the rugs are for them as much as interior decoration.

We put down old bed sheets for the first few times we were on board to help the finish cure a bit harder but sure enough, scratches were appearing just as predicted. Nothing too major, just normal wear and tear only noticed by my critical eye as all others were blinded by the shine. I’m happy with the job and now able to enjoy sailing with my captain and the furry kids.

The repair was done all along the right side in the below right photo, the blue tartan blanket shows above it. Sorry I don't have a photo of the very corner, you'll have to take my word it looks not perfect but absolutely great.

1 Comment

Spreading myself around....

4/16/2018

0 Comments

. I guess I’m falling down on the job. There’s too much to do preparing for rug school, filling my day to the brim. I made it to day 15 on the wings of good intentions designing patterns and then things started to wain with that last one taking three days and evenings to complete. I wouldn't have a problem producing designs if there wasn't the added pressure of school preparations so I grew weary.

I still have to do my daily tasks on top of rug school items, my day is filled to running over. I actually have five red dots ready for linen but no time to draw them off. And now I’m working on custom orders for folks that I need to get out first. I’ve had to face facts; I’m not a superwoman and it’s very disappointing. You can see I haven't bitten off my fingernails yet.....that'll be closer to May as the stress builds!

Rug school is about three weeks away and the lists are long of items to prepare. We have regular meetings to discuss where we are and what’s left to do. We will all work diligently until the end and whatever doesn’t get done no one will really know about and what we take will be huge, at least a U-Haul box truck full to the very top which will be nothing to shake a stick at. When I take my shop to rug school I take it very seriously and work my butt off.

Well, off to work to put together kits for orders. Like the story about the cobbler who would wake in the morning and find shoes made by elves. I go to the shop hoping to find things done. If only thinking about stuff in bed at night got it made.....I’d be in major production.

Last night I dyed wool till midnight. It was in a groove and happy. My fingers are all stained green, my nails looking like someone was slowly poisoning me with arsenic. I suppose only a murder mystery buff would think of such things. Anyway I dyed up a large bag of curly sheep roving. It made my hands green but softer than a baby’s bottom from the lanolin. I should have rubbed it on my face. I could still smell that sweet perfume this morning when I woke. There is nothing better than the smell of wool, the backbone of our passion. I also dyed up 10 hanks of curly mohair all different colours, perfect for hooking or knitting. Forgot to take a photo.

0 Comments

FYI....

4/13/2018

0 Comments

Day 15 Pattern Challenge - Semi Circle Jacobean

4/8/2018

9 Comments

After last Wednesday’s hook-in, inspiration hit and a pattern idea formed to keep me up past midnight. I don’t know where it came from, left field I suppose, but I think it will turn out to be a great new addition to our pattern line.

A sweet pattern but a labour pig and it’s been 12 hours in the making from beginning to linen and was not without its drawbacks. Gripping a fine marker for seven hours straight was painful and when I went to write out a sales slip for a customer I could barely hold the pen and the scratch that came out on the pad looked like the beginning of a palsy.

Something strange happened while I was creating this one that I wanted to share with you. I had a moment with the pencil I was holding, complete with a feeling, a strangely pleasurable feeling washed over me like a summer’s breeze. It was like an orgasm in my head. It took me by surprise and I paused wondering what the hell just happened. I thought perhaps I was too tired to be working and had nodded off. It was strange and weird and nice all rolled into one and somehow felt like I had a connection to the tool in my hand. Like love? It’s really hard to explain, but I wonder if professional artists ever experience sensations from their brushes, their tools of creativity? I asked Deb, our resident artist extraordinaire, and there can be an endorphin rush when creating. Amazing!

I was struck how much a part of me the pencil became, an extension of my hand and my thoughts.   The control I had was incredible, each line flowed like water. I was on point, one with the tool, every line turned out the way I envisioned it, every circle was perfect, every line controlled without any wavering left or right. I loved the way I could draw circles with a simple curve of my wrist, like a smooth driving car rounding a corner keeping between the center line and the shoulder. Instead of several attempts per the usual, I was creating the perfect line the first time. Maybe all this pattern designing is honing a skill, I have had concentrated experience lately.
The smoothness of the graphite on the paper was as soft as a whisper. I go through a lot of pencils and once they are worn down to the wood I grab another then have to wear it down slightly on the perfect angle so it glides over the surface, following my bidding. I know I’ve told the world that I form connections with inanimate objects but I’ve never felt a bond to a pencil and I’ve draw thousands of pictures, portraits and patterns over the years. I’ve been a pencil handler since preschool and never have I felt anything from using them.

Anyway, I’m not sure why this idea of half circles and Jacobean motifs entered my head in the middle of the hook-in other than Shelley had a moon drawn in a pattern she’s creating as a wedding gift. I guess it got the gears moving and I suppose the fact that the last challenge pattern was Blueberry Jacobean I might have mentally bridged that moment. Funny how things pop up in a person’s head, like Wack-A-Mole at the circus.

The most exciting pattern I draw is the one I’m working on currently. It has the itch factor, gotta get it done, and the excitement of seeing it transform from an idea, to a tangible thing, is pretty wild. I have a dining table covered in paper, different drawings in various degrees of completion and although I like what’s there, this new idea had me chomping at the bit to see it on paper. It took forever though.

First I had to figure out my grid and size of the half circles then lay down all the straight lines that map out where the circles will go. I tried several round dishes until my little blue willow teacup saucer fit the bill. Then I had to come up with dozens of different motifs. At first I hoped for all different ones but then decided I needed to finish it before Christmas so they repeat. I’ve worked on this particular design nine hours just to get it to the red dot stage. Life got hectic with the shop, errands and helping my aunt who just got released from the hospital after a hip crack so the pattern was delayed.

This one will also make a fabulous pillow topper so I’ll whip that up this week. I’ll take out an 18” x 18” segment for a cushion design, or perhaps 16” x 16” with borders to make up the 18” x 18”.   So anyway, here is the new design. I’m kind of braindead so I’ll present it to Deb and Shane and we’ll come up with a name for it tomorrow. For now, it’s boringly called Semi Circle Jacobean. The pattern is 32” x 44 ½”. It's a pattern that is viewed one way, so what a beautiful floral to have next to a bed!

9 Comments

Sale Sale Sale!

4/6/2018

0 Comments

Day 14 of the Pattern Challenge - Blueberry Jacobean

4/4/2018

6 Comments

Blueberry Jacobean II 35" x 43"

Today’s pattern isn’t a new design, but an alternate size of one already in existence. Sometimes, I have two sizes for a particular pattern for those that like to go big and one for others that like something a little more manageable.

This is a lovely floral design we called Blueberry Jacobean. It’s been hooked several times, once with blueberries in the blue with a soft blue/green palette and then a vibrant version, with colours that make the pattern sing. Both are exceptional rugs and I don’t know which one I would vote my favourite as they both bring so much to the table.

Jacobean designs are nothing new and I don’t think they’ve gone out of fashion since their beginning, reigning back to the time of King James I of England in the first quarter of the 17th century. Time tested and still true they are the quintessential décor for walls, windows and upholstery. Rich and classic they spell good taste in my decorator book. There’s something about these stylized florals and fruits, small animals and whimsical birds that scream luxury and exceptional taste.

I like to think of Jacobean designs as fun fantasy florals. Flowers that you can add a multitude of colour to from toned down and serene to wildly out there. They are interesting to see, finding something new and exciting every time you stare and marvel at their beauty. My introduction to renovating and decorating began at BB Bargoons and their incredible fabrics with big bold Jacobean prints. The store was like walking into a dream and I spent many an hour walking up and down the aisles, touching the fabrics and being embraced with fantastic colour from every direction. I still remember the chap who worked there. Shawn or Shone. He had incredible flair and put together combinations of materials without blinking. He was knowledgeable and helpful and made such an impression I’ve thought of him now and again wondering what glorious shop or interior design business he is in now.

That first time through the doors, my eyes nearly left their sockets. And when I found the perfect red based Jacobean fruit and floral fabric for my sofa, I almost experienced a tremor in my extremities. It was as if the designer got inside my head and wove it from my thoughts. For the life of me I can't remember the name but I'll have a look when I go home and post. I later saw it in a decorator magazine selling for ginormous bucks, making the most exquisite curtains I’ve ever seen. It was well over $150 bucks a yard in the big designer shops in Toronto and that was 25 years ago and a whole lot out of my price range. I think I paid $18.00 at B B Bargoons, what a princess of a deal. Why I didn’t buy every bit they had on the roll is beyond me. When you find something so perfect get it all because nothing lasts forever, but I guess I wasn’t looking that far ahead or thinking of wear and tear.

My beautiful sofa has long since given up the ghost, the material is faded in areas and worn thin in others with the stuffing showing through. The back is as vibrant as the day it was sewn into place, away from the sun and the dogs. Seven dogs claiming it for a bed over the years can leave their mark but I kept the sofa going because I didn’t want to give up my beloved fabric that perfectly matched my red walls, so I cover it with throws when company comes over so they wouldn’t see the shame of its condition and the dogs don’t seem to mind that it’s well-worn in.

So one evening I crossed my fingers and went searching for more of this fabric on the internet. I visited site after site without results until I found a company that had thousands of leftover bolts of discontinued fabric in their warehouse in the US. I sent a photo and my email and a reply came back the next day letting me know that they had 20 yards of it available, probably all that was left in the entire world and only for $15.00 a yard. OMG, I couldn’t believe my luck and I greedily ordered it all. I wasn’t even disappointed when it arrived and it wasn’t 100% like what I had left over from my sofa all those years ago. Over time a slightly different dye lot goes without saying, but there was a striping through the fabric that was stronger pronounced than in my original yardage. But who cared! Mixed and matched you’d need a magnifying glass to see the difference. No one would notice but me and I’d be smiling from my horse shoe luck.

So I tried to have the sofa reupholstered but my usual guy was taking a break and I left my number to phone when he was ready but he never got back to me, and not being a life or death situation I kept forgetting about it. At one point I tinkered with taking a course and doing it myself but there is never any time in my day for extras and of course there’s the dreaded sewing involved. I think perhaps I’ve found an alternative choice, someone said they would take on the project this summer. I can hardly wait!

Hooked by Andre McClean

Hooked By Susan Lea Manning

6 Comments

Day 13, Pattern A day challenge - Christmas Ornaments

4/3/2018

1 Comment

Christmas Ornaments 3" - 6" High

Today’s patterns for the challenge are small but there’s 15 of them so it’s a big splash. Sweet seasonal ornaments to hook for your decorated home for Christmas 2018. There’s plenty of time to start and be finished by the time the tree comes into the house but they can be hung anywhere, or given as gifts but I guarantee wherever they end up they will bring Christmas joy.

Don’t fret about hooking small items most of these little darlings can be hooked with a #5-#6 cut for non-detailed areas, but there will be a few small motifs that will need a #3 or #4.

And believe it or not, finishing these little rugs is a walk in the park. No, you don't have to try to fold the backing around all the irregular edges in the usual fashion, this is a quick and easy way to have perfectly cut out shapes.

Hook all the ornaments first, then press them. After steaming, add any bling or items like buttons and beads for sparkle. Then cut them out, leaving a bit of backing around each one, perhaps a half inch. You don’t have to zig zag around each ornament because all the excess will all be cut off.

Use a fabric, fast drying craft glue, one that will dry clear in case some gets accidentally smeared on the front side.   On the underside, squeeze glue all along the unhooked edge and the last row of loops. Now smooth out the glue line with a flat edge of plastic cut from an ice cream container and this will make sure a bit of the glue oozes through the unhooked bit of linen, coating it on both sides.

Once the glue is dry, cut along the edge of the last row of loops as closely as possible without nipping the row of loops on the edge.

Sew or glue on a hanger, a piece of jute or ribbon, a few stitches will hold it and you don’t have to be too neat and fussy as this will be covered with the backing material.

For a backing, red plaid shirts from second hand stores, velvet or any Christmas coloured wool would be perfect but try to coordinate the backing with the colours in each ornament for a custom feel. Now place the ornament on the material for a pattern, using chalk or a marker to draw the line then cut them out slightly larger than the shape of the ornament, just so that the wool can be turned under so no fraying will show on the edge. You can glue this directly on the ornament, not at the very edge though, in about an 1/2" so that you have enough room to fold the edge of the wool in so there is a nice fold to sew with. Gluing the fabric to the back is a quick way to attach it so it holds the fabric in place while you sew the edge. The glue dries fast so by the time you've completed all these steps, the first one you worked on will be dry enough to sew the edges together.

When sewing, fold over the edge and catch the last row of loops and then tug the thread to pull the backing and loop together to close any gaps. It’s slick and easy, I’ve used this technique for all my little Ornamental Santas on display in the shop.

1 Comment

Day 11 & 12 Pattern a Day Challenge

4/2/2018

4 Comments

What Floats Your Boat?

Steamed

Nauti - LOVE

It’s been a bit overwhelming trying to get designs out over the holiday. Being cosy at home and not wanting to go into the shop while everyone in the world had the day off was pretty much the reason I am late getting the current three patterns ready to roll. We were open today so I managed to get all three drawn in between customers. I’m still on a bit of a nautical theme producing pillow toppers for the cottage, home or boat. My heart is where the water is so bear with me and then I’ll move on to other design motifs, something inland perhaps. I suppose now that spring is here and I'm dreaming about our boat, my creative blitz follows that pathway.

But there are more designs coming and not only things that are on or near the sea. It’s time to do up some geometrics as well as they make amazing rugs, their beauty enhances any room and they blend with whatever else is happening with your décor. A relative and amazing rug hooker has geometrics draped throughout his entire house. They mix beautifully with his furniture and antiques no matter what the colour palettes, the linear lines pull them all together for a perfectly matched interior.

I have so many ideas, too bad time is marching on at such a brisk pace, what’s going on in my head and the effort to get them down on paper aren’t lining up. I’ve never seen days fly by so swiftly but I guess that's what pressure can do. I'm having fun though, and the creative juices are flowing like Niagara Falls. I will persevere as long as I can..….

The Nauti-LOVE is the nautical alphabet spelling the word love. L and O are on the top and V and E are on the bottom. I'm probably going to have to hook this one for our boat for the summer, perhaps I'll hook it while on the boat, how perfect would that me?

All the patterns are listed on the website under Christine Little New Designs.

4 Comments

Day 9 - 10, Pattern a day challenge.

3/29/2018

5 Comments

Helm-it and Weigh Anchor 16" x 16" Pillow Toppers

It’s short and sweet today. There are three new patterns for the challenge today to cover the holiday tomorrow. Helm-it and Weigh Anchor, two lovely nautical pillow tops for the boat or cottage. The rope borders will really make these cushions pop and set a distinct vibe for life on or beside the ocean. I plan to do a couple more in this line of patterns, a lighthouse and a life preserver, all with the rope border. I meant to do them today but mailing took precedent with Shane on vacation this week.

And we are adding a new sized William Morris Hammersmith for those that love the design but didn’t want to hook the large runner. Deborah expertly shortened it with all the same beautiful elements of the big one but the charm of less time to hook it. William Morris celebrated a posthumous birthday in March, what better what to honour his many talents by hooking one of his wonderful designs. If you order this one before the end of the month we will pay the shipping. We are closed Friday but I’ll be in the shop on Saturday to take orders. Cheers and have a wonderful Easter holiday everyone, fill up on lots of candy and chocolate goodies and loosen the draw sting on the pants!

William Morris Hammersmith III 46" x 37"

www.encompassingdesigns.com/new-designs.html To view all our new designs click the link:

5 Comments

<<Previous

Forward>>

Spring renewal.....

Christine's Picks - Limited time offer

RIP Linda MacDonald

'A New Shape For Summer' workshop with Heather Gordon

The joke's on me....

Fun packed week at rug school.....

Honey, I smell diesel....

I'm at Rug School!

FYI

Sweet Indecisions

Countdown to Rug School - 7 days

Cetol and the swim ladder

Ships that pass in the night....almost.....

More Boat Bites....

Engine troubles, 1, 2, & 3

Doors in the making.

The Tell-Tale Stain.....

Spreading myself around....

FYI....

Day 15 Pattern Challenge - Semi Circle Jacobean

Sale Sale Sale!

Day 14 of the Pattern Challenge - Blueberry Jacobean

Day 13, Pattern A day challenge - Christmas Ornaments

Day 11 & 12 Pattern a Day Challenge

Day 9 - 10, Pattern a day challenge.

Archives

Categories
(Click on the categories for past blogs)

Archives

Categories(Click on the categories for past blogs)

Categories
(Click on the categories for past blogs)