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How I came to love/be obsessed with blue willow.

2/28/2013

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The long and the short of the tale is I saw Blue Willow dishes at a friend’s diner party and fell hopelessly in love!  I had to have them and did.  Sears catalogue had the Johnson Brothers 16 piece set and I ordered enough place settings for eight and they were in my house and slapped on the table under our food in record time.  Considering I fell for rug hooking pretty hard, and maybe my collection of 258 spider brooches could be an indication I’m a bit obsessive, but the feeling I had for the dishes was more of a panic…I just HAD to have them.   That opportune meeting of  blue and white China started a decade long culling of every piece of willow, from every antique store in the county and beyond.    

One day a few years back, my son came home to say that his Aunt, my first husband’s sister, had a little china sausage dog that I had given her eons ago, gosh I must have been around 18 that she no wanted and asked if I would like it back.  Parting with it had been a decorating decision.  Back in the 70’s I was all about the orange, harvest gold, green and browns; I shudder to think of that orange and brown shag carpet!  If anyone ever needed an intervention I did!  That’s as far away from where I am now as I could possibly get.  I tell people the experience left me allergic to orange.  I’m all about the primary colours now and don’t  plan on any deviations for a very long time!      
 
Anyway this china nick nack was blue and white and it didn’t fit into the theme of the decade.  She must have expressed an interest so I gave it to her.  When I was small my frustrated mother always said I would give my arse away and maybe I did a few times when I was young and foolish....but she called it right, I don't have one toy saved from my childhood. Actually in those days I think she would have had to tie a pork chop around my neck to get a dog to like me so I traded away my toys for friendship.  It's not that I was unlikable, I was just in my own head most of the time, preferring to play with imaginery friends and fairies, or maybe they preferred me, making playtime far more interesting than mere mortals could.  Being shy compounded my loneliness and it might sound sad and pathetic, but a lot of little kids find it difficult to blaze their own trail, it's all part of growing up and discovering who you are.   Anyway, my mother had given that little snack dog to me because it didn’t fit her décor either and I distinctly remember her saying she didn’t like the blue and white.  Poor little thing, unwanted and unloved just like a real dog in a pound.   
 
So many moons later, when this little snack dog came back to me, I had totally  forgotten about it.  When I opened the box I gasped.  The sausage hound was covered in the Blue Willow pattern!  This item had been a childhood toy.  My mother mustn’t have had any grand appreciation for it because I was allowed to play with it.  We're talking about a woman who had a plastic covering on the sofa and never used her good china so if it had any value to her, I wouldn't have been allowed to get close enough to breathe on it.  I used to fill the compartments with candy, toys, sometimes dirt and beans during my farming stage, and pretended it was a doggie choo choo train for my brother's GI Joes and various plastic farms animals.  For the amount of time I spent carting it around and mixing up the segments to make various shapes it's actually nothing short of a miracle that my child clumsiness didn't break any of the pieces. 
 
So I stared at the dog as my thoughts peeled back the layers, to the time when I was a wee girl.  It wasn’t long before the realization hit me.  That blue willow pattern had been ingrained on my subconsciousness. When I sat around my host’s table with those dishes staring up at me it was as familiar as a long lost friend.  A childhood memory revisited even though I didn’t have any conscious recollection.  Without realizing it, a connection surfaced, urging me to seek out more of the comfort the design inspired.   

With knowledge comes understanding and with understanding the urgency softened.  After that moment I didn’t need to seek out and acquire every piece of blue willow in the country.  Once I realized the psychological connection I lost the obsession.  Maybe somehow my mind was searching out that original child’s toy or maybe I was trying to recapture or connect with the child within or maybe she was trying to connect to me?  Who knows, but like quitting any addiction, I decided I   had enough and quit cold turkey.  'Enough' is a bit of an understatement, by that time the cupboards were bulging to capacity so it was perfect timing to move on to another collectible…which turned out to be  wool.   My childhood memories of wool aren't pleasurable. Those pleated skirts I was made to wear were brutal on the skin, and at times there was complaining and whining.  Today's wool is soft, you could lay on it naked without itching (not that there's any experience there).  So my wool obsession was an adult discovery, not prompted by a recessed memory!

Around the time of my Willow enlightenment,  CBC radio featured a very interesting program on the very phenomena I had experienced.  An author, I can no longer remember his name, wrote a book about memories triggering emotional responses.  He told a tale of a young man who was hit by a car.  He was lying on the pavement when an older woman crouched beside him to offer assistance.  He whiffed her perfume and fell head over heels in love with her. They married, the union was a disaster and they parted soon after.  He never understood why he fell in love with her as they couldn’t get along and after self discovery and therapy he finally came to understand that her scent had triggered a memory of someone dear to his past, so his feelings had not been love but of comfort, familiarity and therefore safety.   A powerful connection stirring through one of our most acute senses is not uncommon.  

Life is so bloody interesting; a series of puzzle pieces that you  spend your entire life fitting  together. Sometimes you lose a piece or two, and sometimes the dog finds it on the floor and chews it into paper gum, but the space where the piece would have gone is always there, waiting to be filled in.  

Because of my love for the Blue Willow and the story behind  it I decided to design a pattern.  Here is a condensed version of the tale.  A mandarin's daughter fell in love with a poor young gardener.  It was forbidden because she had been promised to an ugly, rich old man in an arranged marriage.  The lovers ran away and tragically died to become the two birds, together for all eternity.   That's it in a nutshell.  

So I designed the pattern but alas never got around to hooking it.  I have a thing about overdoing a theme.  My house has willow and flow blue plates on the walls, a powder room decorated with willow fabric and willow wallpaper, dishes spilling out of the kitchen cupboards,  dining room cabinets packed full, a throw in the living room, a few cross stitch pieces dedicated to the design, so it just seemed like overkill to add one more piece.  It can mean the difference between elegant and tacky and I'm probably tittering dangerously close to the latter. And who wants a blue and white rug on the living room floor with puppies potty training and foot traffic.  Our house is window rich and wall poor and affords little space for hanging a rug.  So, maybe I'll leave the hooking up to the other obsessed willow fans. 

When I discovered this little plate I thought the pattern would be fabulous hooked with these colours.   It's easy to visualize the rich reds, golds and turquoises mixed in with several shades of blue.  If anyone would like some help to colour plan this baby let me know and I'll give you a hand. 

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To hell in a hand basket.....

2/27/2013

13 Comments

 
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I don't think I looked this graceful when I fell but the chin and glasses show a close resemblance.
I would like to share yesterday with you.  It wasn’t extraordinary, just crazy: an accumulation of bad energy leading to a calamity of errors and I've got the wet pants and bruises to prove it.

I’ll set the tale spinning by first setting the stage with the events of the day before. Monday I had to get up at 6:30 to take my two male pups to the Vet’s for the snip at 8
:OO.  I’m not used to getting up that early, I’m never conscious until about 8:30, but I managed to make it there on time
and after a few hugs and wet kisses I left my babies in strange hands, something that tugged my heart strings all the way home.  Having to leave my babies for surgery created a lot of anxiety but I didn’t want them to sense my  worry  and stress them more than they already were, so I told them they were going on an fun adventure......oh the guilt!

So I drive back home for breakfast to drown my sorrow in bacon, the number one comfort food
on the planet. I love bacon and would eat it every day if not for the cooking mess and the fact that it’ll kill ya.  But it worked its magic and I almost forgot to worry until the phone rang just as I was leaving for work. 
It was the vet office and I knew it had to be something bad. My heart jumped to my throat until I heard the words, “don’t panic, nothing is wrong” (they know me well) but then listened to the surgeon tell me that both of my boys had an elevated ALT liver enzyme and it was best not to  proceed with surgery until we fixed it. 

The only logical thing to do was have the girls tested as well, to see if they were all effected and if so, then it was a dietary problem.  So I took my girls in for the same test and sure enough they all had the elevated count to a greater or lesser degree.   We could rule out toxins...there is nothing in my life that would harm a fly, even my floors are washed with vinegar.  As far as we can tell, I’ve been feeding them too rich a diet of protein and not enough carbs.  So the plan is to stuff them with potato, rice and veggies, along with meat, for a two week period and then have them retested and hopefully get them neutered.  All this took several hours and the morning was now shot.  I didn't get to the shop until noon.  Sorry to anyone who came by but my hairy kids trump rug hooking.  Emergencies happen, and besides, it's not like I'm running a Walmart...it's just a little craft business and sometimes life has bumps that need to be flattened.   
 
Getting the males neurtered is a bit of a panic as the two boys have come into their own and have taken a shining to the girls.  Poor Honey and Fiz  are sitting on their woowoos pretty much most of the day.  I'm doing a lot of monitoring and separating.   It's amazing how insistent the boys can be when they're surged with testosterone.   Luckily it comes and goes so we all get a reprieve but I can’t leave them alone for a second or goodness knows what I’d find when I get home.  The two boys would be smoking a cigarette and the girls would be phoning the rape hotline.   I'm just making a joke...I'm not insensative to anyone that has been raped)

So that was my day Monday.  Long and tiring and then after a sleepless night I wasn’t in the best shape Tuesday morning and was late for work again.  Cooking potatoes and carrots and chicken for the pups wasn’t part of my regular routine so that slowed me down on top of the regular dragging of feet. 

So I get to work and the phone rings.  I had made up a custom kit for a woman last week who was at the door at 10:00 and waited ½ hour for me to show up.  I hadn’t realized she would be there at that time but that doesn’t really matter, I was in the wrong.   I should have known better and posted a sign on the door.  The woman was wild. Told me so, said she was not a happy camper and it wasn’t the words she used, it was the way they were enunciated.  I could see her teeth in my head as she snarled out the words.   She then asked if I plan be in on Thursday at 10:00 and I said of course, I always plan to be there, things just happen, and she hung up on me.


Now it was my fault but there are better ways to communicate and being rude isn’t fair.  You  can get your point across without maiming the receiver. I’m not proud of it, but when people go off on me I sink to a dark place and I wallow there.  I can’t just brush it off or let it cascade down my back.  It’s a part of me that I don’t like but I guess past experiences have impaired the ability to bounce back as fast as I should.   Defend & Deflect...that should be my motto!  No one likes to be treated in a mean way and I  let it brow beat me…give it power I shouldn’t.  I was wrong to be late, but I am only one person doing the best I can, there was no need to treat me that unkindly.   I got the feeling if I told her something serious had happened, maybe a death or an accident, it wouldn’t have mattered in the least.  
 
So that set my mood for the day and a dark cloud followed me about, waiting for the opportunity to rain down on me.   I phoned hubby and he helped  talk me into a better place but it was still nagging at me for most of the day, making it difficult to smile and count my blessings.  When upset, my entire body slumps like a whipped child and was probably the reason I couldn't  lift my leg as high as I should have. 


I tripped on the handle of a basket coming out of the closet under the staircase in the shop.   I twisted my foot and bent back the big and second toe in an odd angle.  Now footless, I dropped to my knees like a lead brick.  Now legless, the top part of my body fell forward and came down on the sharp corner of my desk in the middle of my throat, right in the esophagus area!   Seeing the edge coming toward me in an almost slow motion fall, I braced my right shoulder to take some of
the impact and in the process hit my collar bone pretty hard as well. 
 

As the pain of the fall and the realization of what could have happened hit me I started to cry.  I kept swallowing to make sure I was okay, then sat on the floor like a big baby and sobbed my heart out.  Funny how a few tears can release every ounce of stress building in your system and open the flood gates to a good old fashioned bawl.   My son ran to my side to see if I needed an ambulance but I assured him I would be alright.   I was ranting and wailing as I slowly got to my feet while thanking my lucky stars that it wasn’t more serious. I kept swallowing, it felt like I had a ball in there but it was only sore and not damaged.   Luckily I'm not a man with an Adam’s apple or it would have been apple sauce!  

So, I limped around the rest of the day, favouring my right knee the most as it sent shoots of pain up my thigh….some sort of nerve quiver. My left knee is just bruised and sore. I was soooooooooo very lucky I’m a tough old bird physically.   To bad the mental part wouldn't follow suit. 

So the universe wasn’t through with me yet.  You can't dump that much negativity and not expect the boomerang effect.  Wallowing will be pummeled with more crap…that’s the law.   I was limping around feeling sorry for myself with an upside-down smile, priming myself for more  disaster.  I had to work late to get an order out and by 9:00 I was  aching, tired, hungry and cranky so I was locking up when an overwhelming urge to sneeze gripped me.  I tried to brace my sore body from the force but nothing could soften that blow.  I sneezed like I was trying to catapult a dust fragment from the tip of my big toe up and out through my nose, and my full bladder just couldn't handle the assault.  So...I peed my pants.  How cheery and such a lovely cherry on the sundae of my day! 
 

So I drove home thinking I'd better start smiling or goodness knows what would be waiting for me...not dinner or a warm house that's for sure!  So I soaked in an Epsom Salt bath and put on my jammies and made dinner for the hairy kids and me hoping I wouldn't be too stiff in the morning. So I had a bad day and although I'm stiff and sore, I can see the humour in it.  I keep saying everyday is an adventure for me....nothing is ever boring!  I attract stories like white cat hair on a black dress. 

So I think I need to change the hours of shop operation.  I  find it hard to get there at 10:00 and the stress of keeping people waiting makes it even worse so maybe I’ll change the hours to come by chance between 10-10-30, giving me a half hour extra to get there if needed.    I used to open at 10:30 when I was on 14 Pleasant Street and I don’t know why I changed it so I’ll go back to it and hopefully that will spare folks from waiting and me from being at the end of their wrath when I screw up.  Life can be so complicated…..



New Shop Hours
Until further notice.....Opening somewhere between 10:00 - 10:30 Monday to Saturday..... closed at 5:00 as always, but I am usually here working late if you want to call after hours. 
                                                     
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Cabbagetown

2/26/2013

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Honey is a little Cabbage Rose!
Sue received a commission to design and hook a rug called  Cabbagetown.    A few Saturdays ago she visited the shop to work at the spacious pattern desk and kept me company for the afternoon.  Honey loves Sue and is helping to keep the pattern from shifting while she works. Poodles are so smart!  

Cabbagetown is a neighbourhood located on the east side of downtown Toronto, Ontario, Canada. It comprises "the largest continuous area of preserved Victorian housing in all of North America", according to the Cabbagetown Preservation Association.

Cabbagetown's name derives from the Irish immigrants who moved to the neighbourhood beginning in the late 1840s, said to have been so poor that they grew cabbage in their front yards.


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Only the decorative tops of the buildings are drawn. The border is a compilation of cabbages roses, wrought iron swirls and cobbles. The wording 'Ville des choux' runs along the bottom border sandwiched by cobbles.
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Sue darkening the lines after transferring the design with red dot. Honey approves but would rather be picked up and cuddled. A lot of straight lines on this pattern..all straight on the grain.
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Design "Cabbagetown" is 16" x 66"
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Loop Height 

2/25/2013

3 Comments

 
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The #6 red loops are higher, the way I used to hook. The yellow #4 and green #8 are hooked lower and of equal height.
I know what it's like to run out of a certain colour as you close in on the end of a rug.  I've done a bit of dumpster diving in search of a few tails that might stretch out a loop or two  or recover those scrawny edge pieces I sometimes biff if they're too fuzzy.  I remember the panic that I wouldn’t be able to find more of a precious recycled plaid or match a colour after the fact, just to complete a few square inches or maybe less of an unfinished area. Thankfully, with experience comes wisdom, so that doesn’t happen anymore and I’ll tell you why.

Back in the day when I started rug hooking, all of my rugs were over hooked with wool.  I don't mean hooking every hole, I learned to skip from day one; my problem was loop height. The loops were high enough that I could have produced two rugs for the price of one.  Yes the rugs were plush and rich feeling but had nothing to do with the quality or the longevity of the rug.   

One rule of thumb was to pull the loop as high as the strip is wide and I had been following that philosophy religiously until the day I needed to put a bit of detail in one area using a #4 cut while the rest of the rug was hooked in #6.  Working in smaller cuts meant lower loops and wider cuts would be higher so it only stands to reason that the surface of your rug would be uneven.  So I proved the theory was flawed, and rules being made to be broken, I threw it out the window and came up with my own guideline which seemed to make more sense and saved a lot of money.   

So I started pulling the different cuts all the same low height, which allowed the mixing of all sizes, especially when using leftover strips from other projects.  I make the joke, “whoever madeup that rule sold wool for a living”.  To me, pulling the #8 strip ¼” high is a waste, going through your stash at record speed, and quite frankly, pulling loops higher than necessary does nothing to enhance your work.  Sure it’s plush under the feet but that will soon be walked flat so what's the point?  Higher loops flop over along the edge whereas if you hook with a lower height they don’t.  So where is the benefit?  There is none…other than paying someone more money for wool you don't really need forthat project (not that need ever has anything to do with it).  Lowering the loop height makes sure the wool goes as far as possible. 

The rule of thumb should be that you pull the loop high enough to cover the backing and at a comfortable level to remove your hook.   You’ve all done modifications to cover the fact that you ran out of a certain colour; getting creative to reach the finish line.  Putting in extra clouds when running out of sky wools; adding a building extension or bushes when grass falls short; filling in background wool where a leaf or flower should have been.   The other trick is to tear out bits here and there to fill the empty spot and then replace those stripped areas with the closest match you can beg, borrow or steal and pretend it was intentional.  Yup…we’ve all been there and have the T-Shirt to prove it!  

This slight alteration in loop height could save you much $$$ over the years and the agro of having too much area remaining at the end of the wool.    Nowadays I hook more on the low side then what’s perceived as normal but I think my hooking looks fine.  As in most things there’s no right or wrong, it’s finding the right balance that works for you.


One other point I would like to add.  When you hook lower your work looks like it was worked in a finer cut.  Hooking low with a #7 looks more like #5 or #6.  When you pull your loops higher you can see every loop, whereas hooking them lower, the biggest part of the loop, the top, snugs together more so the individual loop doesn't show.   If you like the look of finer cuts but prefer the speed of the more primitive ones, this is the way to get the best of both worlds.   

3 Comments

Cutting it close!

2/25/2013

1 Comment

 
Update by Guest Blogger Charlene Scott
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I just wanted to show you all that I finished the yellow background last night. I was a little panicky getting to the end. I have included a photo of the amount of yellow left. My mind was wildly roaming my piece trying to figure out where I could rob some pieces and re fill with colour. That was cutting it close. Now I feel I am on the last stretch.

Mary I think of you every day when I pick up my hook to get underway. I have bought four nice old pots to bring home for my dyeing class.  I think the panic
came  because the yellow background was a thinner wool than all the rest. There seems to be more than enough of everything else.

Cheers
Charlene

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Birthday/Hook-in

2/23/2013

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Shelley cutting the cake. Sorry I missed the candles and making the wish. You can see the Dirty Ears under the glass dome. Pam is hooking "The Happy Fishermen", a Susan Leslie design.
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Mary is covered. Wine in one hand, cake in the other and hooking on her lap. Life doesn't get much better than that!
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Just a bunch of hookers doing our two most favourite things....hooking and eating.
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Aunt Audrey dropped in with her knitting and lucked into the cake. Fizzy snuggling in beside her.
What a fun hook-in this past Wednesday evening.  We meet the 1st and 3rd Wednesday of every month upstairs at my studio.  We celebrated two birthdays, Linda Ruth's and Shelley’s.  Linda Ruth couldn’t make it but sent over Dirty Ears with Sue, which is a delectable cinnamon bun with finger licking icing.  The smell was enough to drive me crazy but I resisted as I'm trying my best to keep my blood sugars normal....but it's torture! 

There was also birthday cake compliments of Pam and Heather.  There were candles and quite the blaze.  Heather and Pam supplied the cake and candles and we butchered the Happy Birthday song.  Don't hit me, I'm just sayin' we shouldn't quit our day jobs.  Shelley did a fab job blowing out the fire....it's amazing how much of a blaze 39 candles can make.  One could have lost an eyebrow!  Pam brought a homemade Pinot Grigio to wash it all down.   What a fun group of women.  My studio is a place to congregate, a place where everyone knows your name.  A home away from home; where you can let your hair down and share the passion of rug hooking.     
  
Ginny brought her rug "Alice" in and I took an updated picture. Wow…this rug is a stunner.  I'll post an update in another next blog.  

Sue is funny.  She is finishing off a Deanne Fitzpatrick piece and I asked her when she started it and she takes off her glasses and says, “What’s today Wednesday?....I started it Sunday”.  Do the math…that's only four days  and she’s almost finished!  She hooks like there’s a motor under her frame.  I’m fast but I think she'd leave me in her wake.  That's the joy of retirement, being able to do all the fun stuff whenever you want.   I’m just too pooped at the end of the day so most of my hooking is done in my head….it’s called daydreams, fantasies, pipe dreams, castles in the sky or good intentions.
  
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Glenna clipping right along on "Dances With Wool".
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Mary starting a cute little Scottie piece...items to sell in the shop this summer.
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Sue and a Deanne Fitzpatrick piece.
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Armenia is working on "Bushel Of Love"
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Anne is working on "Donna's Primitive".
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Shelley is working on a prayer rug. Our entire group hooked Oriental designs about a decade ago. I think we are the only two that haven't finished. She pulls her's out between projects and picks away at it but I haven't touched mine in a long time. I guess I'll be the last to cross the finish line. Nice colours!
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Ginny with her masterpiece. She almost has the center oval done. It's beeeeeeUtiful!
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Heather enjoying a glass of wine. She designed her rug but the gripper frame cover is hiding it.
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Rug Hooking With T-Shirts

2/22/2013

3 Comments

 
Guest Blogging Sisters - Charlene Scott and Ernestine
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The old saying, done it, got the T-Shirt is a literal translation for  Ernestine.  She's done it alright, with T-shirts!  I must say I really like the moon and plan to add that to my design.  I must admit I never thought of the pattern with any particular time of day but since two people have now hooked it with a nighttime background I think the message is clear and makes perfect sense.  The Halloween time of year definitely has an after dark flavour and the upper corner did scream for a little something extra.  Thank-you to Ernestine for the clever idea.  

From Charlene:  I have been hooking with the Main Street Hookers for approximately 6 years and am currently working towards completing Passion For Paisley Featured earlier in a blog by Mary Doig and lately in one by Christine. When completed I hope to do a short blog on the finished piece. In the meantime my sister Ernestine who lives in St. John's, NL has completed a project that I thought was interesting. My sister hand cuts her material and works in T-shirts exclusively. I have seen the featured rug done in wool but also am very impressed with her rendering in T-shirts.

From Ernestine:
When I first saw "The Pumpkin Grinners" at Encompassing Designs I wanted to hook it for myself. I purchased the pattern and kept it for over 2 years while I finished a large cross stitch project. I prefer to use T-shirts (100%cotton only) as my medium. When learning to hook my instructor told me that T-shirt material was used in Newfoundland and Labrador more than wool so that is what I am used to. I used the photo that accompanied the pattern as a starting point for choosing my colours. I tried to hook the pumpkins in similar colours, then branched out on my own. I decided to add the moon in the upper right corner. I did not do any dyeing but did bleach out half of the most vibrant orange to do one of the pumpkins. All other material was used as is.

I have completed two other mats and finished a third. The bird rug was started by our Aunt Joan. She took hooking lessons at the age of 80. She was an artist her whole life primarily working with oil paints. it certainly shows in her rug. She completed the rug except for the binding just before her 86th birthday and passed away shortly thereafter. I did the whipping and binding to finish it off. It measures 21"x15". The stained glass/broken glass was my first rug. It measures 20"x15". The Rose Blanche Lighthouse was designed by me and was my second rug. It measures 16"x13". For my next project I have designed a rug suggested to me when I saw a photo of an old carpet bag. It will be very vibrant with a black background.


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Rose Blanche Lighthouse 16" x 13"
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Stained/Broken Glass 20" x 15"
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Birds 21" x 15"
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Curly gets a makeover.....

2/21/2013

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Matted and dirty from hanging around in a basement for too many years, Curly is looking a bit worse for wear.
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The makeover has begun. Stay tuned for a pimped out version of Curly as he transforms from one person's trash to my little treasure.
I'm having a bit of fun felting.  I've never done it before but watched the process at a workshop taught by Justine Kerr in my upstairs studio so figured I'd give it a try.  This sheep came from a yard sale...always a sucker for anything sheep related, I handed over $20 with the intention to hook a coat for the sad little guy.   The body is covered with fake polyester sheepskin which goes against my religion, so I always wanted to dignify him with wool.  The road being paved with good intentions, and for the fact that if I had any spare time, hooking a coat for a sad little sheep would be the last item on the list, I  decided to take the faster route and felt him into the handsome dude I knew he could be. 

So I cracked open a few bags of Country Roving and started making swirls.  It looked pretty decent so I'll continue to transform him when I can steal a few minutes here and there.  I'll cover the entire body, head and tail. There isn't much I can do with the faded head, ears and legs but now with the different colours of roving the fabric doesn't look as worn, maybe because it is providing less of a contrast than the stark white did.  My little Curly is going to have the makeover he deserves so he won't be embarrassed and feel all intimated by the shop's real wool.
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Country Roving comes in a variety of colours from ivory to black with all shades in between. Each strand is flat and comes in 5 ply. Great for hooking as well as felting.
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Update on A Passion For Paisley

2/20/2013

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Charlene Scott's A Passion For Paisley rug.
Just a little update on Charlene Scott's "A Passion For Paisley" rug.  She's created a different border than originally designed and it's fabulous.  The two ends will be flanked in these wonderful block like rectangles with a floral center.  Very much different than the normal style of border, giving this beauty even more punch.  I can see the completed rug in my head and it's  going to be a stunner.   The side borders will remain the same with the small bits of paisley and a floral separation. 

Seeing this pattern is what inspired me to dig out the design I had been working on and completed it last week named 'Chelsea'.  I also have Charlene's drawing to make into a pattern for the shop and plan to get to that this week as well. 

I was first introduced to paisley designs by my oldest and dearest friend Charlotte Baird, who passed away a few years ago.  She helped me through a lot of rough times from my first marriage.  Not all men are prince material and I kissed a few toads on the way to the one I have now.   On many occasions, she sat up all night talking and listening to my woes over the latest in a long line of troubles.   

Charlotte was a top notch sewer, the best I've ever seen and her smocking, well it was nothing short of perfection.  She was part owner of the Black Duck Craft Co-op in Lunenburg and stocked her end of the bargain with wonderfully made hand sewn and smocked Christening gowns, bonnets and little girl's dresses.  She also did a lot of applique.  Baby bibs and pot holders.  If it was made of material, Charlotte worked her magic on it.  She had a room stacked with fabric from floor to ceiling and every now and then we would go through the bags and marvel at the contents.  Back then I didn't quite understand the need for a room full of stash but now it is abundantly clear she was on to something.  She dreamed and lusted over fabric the same as we dream and lust over wool, finding a masterpiece waiting to happen in each piece.  Every time I see anything paisley I think of Charlotte, dear friend......
 

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Wowsa!....This rug definitely has the wow factor hooked in! The colours as well as the pattern make this the masterpiece it is headed to being. Designed and hooked by Charlene Scott.
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Chelsea - A pattern by any other name would be just as sweet!

2/19/2013

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Chelsea working on a pattern.
Chelsea been been  helping us build stock in the shop.  She is Shane’s best friend’s partner and is a delight to have around.  She picked up drawing patterns like a second nature and is quick as well as accurate.  You don't need to be a rocket scientist to draw patterns but you need a steady hand and spatial concept and she is gifted with both.   

I
love paisley, have always appreciated these timeless classics that hold the observer captive;  mesmirized by all the intricate curves and tiny motifs, seeing something new with every glance.  I had started this design last year and dug it out to complete and I decided to name it after Chelsea so we have something to immortalize the contribution she's made to the shop.  We'd love to keep her but she's only borrowed from her managerial position at the local market that closes for the winter.  Spring will mark her leaving and it will be a sad farewell. 

In the meantime she is helping to stock the racks back to full capacity and at the pace she works that should be accomplished sooner than later.  We are working like a tightly knit team, even Shane is darkening the patterns.  I'm pumping out new designs and hope to polish off a hundred in the next month or so.  I'll post them as they come off the designer table.  

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'Chelsea' somehow fits this pattern like custom tailoring. Something in the name looks and feels like paisley, or maybe it's just me?. This design is 32" x 44", a perfect size to compliment any room's decor.
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Feb 17th - Beginner Class

2/17/2013

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These five women were a pleasure to introduce to rug hooking. A sea of smiles and a feeling that everyone had a great time.
Another successful Sunday beginner/technique class.  Not an amateur among them, pulling loops like pros. The dogs were a big hit and I had to keep my eye on Fiz so she didn't  get helped into  someone's purse and smuggled out of the shop.  Herlegs were in the air for most of the afternoon getting belly rubs.  All the women today truly loved dogs so you know they're good people...that's how I set the bar on the who's who of people you want to know! 

Tomorrow the weather is supposed to be unkind so I think I might have a much deserved day off, catch up on personal emails and get a bit more hooking done.  The Valentine's Day window display needs to be dismantled and spring is right around the corner so I'd better get those tulips done before the real ones are popping out of the ground!  

I've stocked up on cream and coffee this time so bring it on!   
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Kristy on the bottom left designed her own pattern; a detailed floral. She's quite artistic so I expect to see an interesting body of work from her. She stayed behind after class so I could cut some of her wool and chat. She built her own house with help from her parents! Now she wants to fill it with hooked rugs. Go girl!
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I know it's time to rest when.....

2/16/2013

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I'm working late and need to wash a yard of wool.  I tear it from the bolt, go into the bathroom where the washer and dryer are stacked, open the toilet lid and catch myself right before I stuff the wool in the bowl. .....yup  time for a nap!   

ZZZZZZZZZZZ
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Vintage Keys

2/16/2013

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....."the heart is hidden in a keyhole".......
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What a day!  It started early and ended late.  I just got home from the shop and it’s past midnight.  I should be tired, especially when I saw the clock reach 3:30 am the night before, wide awake,  tossing and turning and trying to force sleep against its will. 
 I’m riding on fumes and the engine is starting to sputter but if I have to I’ll get out and push this old clunker to the finish line!  Strike while the iron is hot I say, before distractions happen and the fire flickers to a soft smoldering flame. 

I’ve always said designing is my favourite part of the business but usually all the other responsibilities take precedence; I get burdened down with paperwork and other aspects that are equally important just not as much fun. 

I’ve been pretty psyched lately.  The creative juices are flowing and the notes are growing. I have post-its on post-its, they’re producing like minks on a breeding farm.  Crumpled papers in pockets and even a quickie sketch on a segment of toilet paper, guess where I was when that inspiration hit?   Ideas are oozing out of me like uncapped toothpaste and I can’t get to them all fast enough. 
Time is an evil dominatrix, bossing me around and making me do other stuff when I really only want to sneak away with my pencil and paper.   I’ve even been taking work home, after being in the shop all day and evening.  There just aren’t enough hours in the day when you’re on a roll.   

So here is one of the hot of the press designs…..Vintage Keys.   In all the years I’ve been collecting ideas....I have boxes filled to the brim with bits and pieces of inspiration...I’ve never thought about keys.  Chelsea brought the idea to my attention and I immediately saw the result in my head so had to get it down on paper.  Antique keys are beautiful, works of art in themselves, and practical, tools to gain entrance to our lives, such small important pieces of metal, over looked and under appreciated for their purpose. Because of the size I couldn’t do as much detail as I would have liked, some keys have amazing fine, filigree work but are too comprehensive to hook.  I had a lot of fun putting these specimens together, and the keyholes to fill the gaps.   
 
Well, now it’s 1:00 am.  I feel tired, my bones ache and my feet aren’t happy, but I can betcha once I hit my pillow that will all be gone, replaced by a renewed energy that makes me want to get up and vacuum the floor or do a bit of dusting, ironic considering I never get the urge to do these things during daylight hours.  For me, bedtime is like running a marathon; I’m charged and awake, as if someone crazy glued my eyelids to my forehead.  No sleep in sight.  Now weirdly, I can sleep on the sofa no problem, or in the car, or at work on the settee, but something about the bed reinvigorates me, primes me for action....get your minds out of the gutter...that's not what I mean!  I’d settle on the downstairs sofa tonight but wouldn’t hear the alarm tomorrow morning and there are two customers planning on being at the shop at 10:30 in the morning that wouldn’t be very pleased with me.

The only time I feel drugged with sleep is when the alarm goes off and I have to get up. Then I could doze until the cows come home, snuggled and cosy, surrounded by the little warm bodies of my hairy kids.    Somehow my inner timer is off and I have to work at setting it back a bit, but I wouldn’t have to if someone would just add a few hours to the already established 24 so I’d have enough time to get it all done.  But, you know what they say, there’s plenty of time to rest when you’re dead. Life is for taking the big bite while you still can and at 54, with time on the decline, I need to hustle. 


Vintage Keys 34" x 25"
is listed under Christine Little Patterns - New Designs




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My Friend Jane

2/15/2013

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"a room without art is like a body without a soul"
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One of my favourite people to spend time with is my talented friend, Jane Rowberry. Jane is an artist specializing in acrylics and oils. She and three other women are the proprietors of a special gallery in Lunenburg aptly called Quartet. It is a wonderful, warm, bright and welcoming space...not a stiff, formal place that some galleries tend towards. I love to visit the gallery often to see their latest creations.

Although she has participated in a number of workshops over the years, Jane is mostly self-taught. While incredibly gifted with artistic talent, she shies away from thinking of herself as a true artist. I think she believes she can 'paint' fairly well but stops short of describing herself as an artist.

It has become a tradition over the past few years that we exchange Christmas gifts. She creates a painting for me and I hook a rug for her. This past Christmas I created a piece for her that would reinforce my belief in her artistry.

I had the idea of placing her among some of my other favourite artists. Say, Monet, Degas, Hopper, Lautrec, etc. I'd call it 'Artists of Distinction'. So I Googled, printed and enlarged their signatures, transferred them to red dot, then on to linen. I placed Jane's signature dead center, surrounded by
her more famous counterparts. And voila, my idea started to come to life!

Next, as background I wanted a wool that was very colourful and varied to represent the various hues of an artist's palette. So, I asked Shane and Christine to dye up a yard of 'Razzle Dazzle', which is one of my 'go to' wools. I try always to have a supply in my stash. I love colour and this is
simply yummy! I chose an antique red (really a deep rich burgundy) for the lettering which pops nicely. The background palette is hooked in a 6-cut and the lettering is a combination of 4, 5 and 6-cut.

I think Jane was very pleased with her gift. And more importantly for me, I think she finally got the message!

You can visit Quartet Gallery at www.quartetgallery.com.


By Guest Blogger Sue Cunningham


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Valentine's Day!

2/14/2013

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On this day devoted to love!  Hearts to ya!
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Linda Ruth's 'Beck' Completed!

2/14/2013

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......'Beck' floating contentedly on a sun soaked sea.
A perfect fit with the black and white tiles and golden
walls of my studio.......hmm....
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Linda Ruth (left) and Lorraine Burch (right) holding 'Beck'
At our last hook-in, Linda Ruth presented us with a completed ‘Beck’, a work-in-progress previously featured in a January blog.   She has a keen eye for detail and executes nothing short of perfection in her rug hooking.  This design was borrowed with permission, from a painting on a greeting card and its essence was captured in wool with a stunning likeness.  

Linda Ruth is definitely the border queen, proving once again that more is more!  Multiple borders serve to showcase the star of this rug, funneling the eye into the center where 'Beck' floats on a golden sea.  Yellow, a non-traditional, yet highly artistic way to present water, makes you believe the sun is high in  the sky.       

This was Linda Ruth’s first attempt at hooked rope. Done very simply with  three values, the shading is quite realistic. Linda maximized its effectiveness by duplicating the yellow hues of the water with the rope for a custom fit.  This nautical influence serves to enhance the overall feel of the ocean and its magnificent indigenous bird.   Seagulls are resourceful, inquisitive and intelligent and 'Beck' is so lifelike, one can almost expect to hear its harsh wailing and unique squawking call. 

The charcoal grey behind the rope gives you a sense of weather worn boards, sun baked to a silver grey.   If you look closely, you will see the different plaids used in the outer periphery to create even more levels of interest, making this triple border the ultimate frame for ‘Beck’.  All in all, this piece is worthy of a gallery.
  

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'Beck' floating contentedly on a sun soaked sea.
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The calm after the storm...

2/12/2013

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Today was back to work.  It started early with a 6:30 alarm call that I tuned out till 7:00. Today was grooming day and I have to be in Gold River between 8:00 – 8:30 to drop off my four hair kids.  Usually I’m not conscious until 8:00 so it was a rough start and a race against time to get out the door.  Not a bad accomplishment with four dogs that need to make snow yellow, be fed and then follow up with a dump.  Plus a shower for me and some semblance of a breakfast.  I made it to the groomers at 8:29.  Impressive actually as I’m usually late.  It’s kind of expected now so I shocked him.  

My mother always said I would be late for my own funeral, a play on words and an insult in one swift blow.  Well I say ‘so what’.  I’ll admit I beat to a different drum and I mean no disrespect to the people I keep waiting, it’s just that my clock’s a bit off.  And besides, you aren’t late until you
get there right?

I’ve always been this way and I don’t expect any great change any time soon, the old dog new tricks thing is science as far as I'm concerned.  I just cruise along at my own speed.  I could pay someone for professional advice, find out why I do it, but I’d be late for the appointment and then I’d have to pay for my tardiness.    It might have something to do with being denied birth when my mother was forced to ride the agonizing waves of labour when they tied her legs together and her hands to the bedside rail because there wasn't a doctor to deliver me.  That was the first time I was late, and it snowballed from there.  Why couldn't that experience have scarred me for life?  Made me what I am today?  What better excuse to fall back on when I get the evil eye as I breeze in late, "Hey, man, it's not my fault; I was blue at birth!"  And another thing, I hope  I’m late for my own funeral, it might mean I’m not quite dead!

I’m the polar opposite of those people who show up way too early for appointments.  In the past, after waiting hours for a doctor I learned that showing up early just compiles the wait time.   If the appointment is at 10:00, show up at five to or maybe a minute before; perfectly acceptable and will cut down on the time you have to warm a seat.  My time is important too and I’m not willing to spend one minute more than necessary waiting on someone else's schedule.  
 
It’s not like my life is brain surgery where a minute can mean the difference between life and death.    And, it’s not like waiting rooms are one of the top 10 places to hang, they are filled with outdated magazines and dead skin cells of all those who came before me.  I’m not about to strike up conversations with waiting strangers, people who I’ll probably never see again so I just keep my head down, twiddle my thumbs and count the minutes.     
 
Anyway, after dropping off the hounds, I arrived at the shop unfashionably early and put in eight hours of glorious work.  Number one on the agenda was a cup of coffee, the first in three days and it tasted marvelous!  Then juiced with caffeine I sprang into action and accomplished many items on the list, especially one that I had been putting off for some time.  A client wanted a 26”x 26” portrait of the Mona Lisa and it turned out even better than I anticipated and I’m sure she’ll be pleased. She loved Mary Doig’s  Mona Christmas  Stocking but said she wanted to hook the piece and display it all year round so  she  opted to make a pillow and I offered to design it for her.   I started from scratch because I needed a lot more detail of the background and Mona’s body.   I love designing, it's one of the aspects of my shop that gives me the most satisfaction. 

Today was what one would call perfect,.  Work was crazy fun and at the end of the day, I was rewarded with four pups all washed, clipped and blown into bouffant cotton swabs.   There's no more precious sight than my four babies in their formal wear.   
 
And I forgot to mention how wonderful the weather was!  After this past weekend's fiasco, it was almost surreal.  A divine +5, the cherry on the day!  It doesn’t get much better than that!


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Not a happy camper!

2/11/2013

1 Comment

 

Well, I got through Sunday without coffee and now I’m working on day two. I’m waiting on plough guy to come by and set me free.  I didn’t make it to work this morning due to a big drift at the end of the driveway that looks pretty deep. I’m not about to take my car through it and risk getting stuck, so I’m playing the waiting game.

Shane shovelled out the shop front last evening. He called to say the snow was up to the door knob, partly due to the downfall and the rest from the sidewalk machine that spits the snow all over the step. I find it a bit annoying to have snow plastered all over the building but what can you do.  There’s nothing more annoying that shovelling it all out and then coming to work the next day and it’s worse.  At least the fresh snow moves easily, the stuff the machine spits out turns rock solid and you need an ice pick and a mallet to loosen it.  Most shovels today are made of plastic so they lack the guts to beat on hard snow, whereas years ago when the world made tools of metal that gave you a decent lifespan, you could have gone a few rounds with a tough pile of snow.  
 
Well, I’m going to have a shower and hopefully I can break out of here for a few provisions. My first item will be to inhale a cup of coffee and then when I’m thinking straight I’ll go to work for a
few hours and then back home to cut knots out of my pup’s coats.  Their groomer had surgery and was out of commission for a few months and my dogs are beyond shaggy.  I’ve clipped away at them and it shows what an amateur I am but if I didn’t they would have looked like unsheared sheep by now.   It got me thinking about what I will do with the guy retires.  I think maybe I should learn to do it myself, take a course or practise until perfect.  It’s not like they care if they are having a bad hair day, only I would know. I’m going to have the guy order a pair of professional shears for me to practice with. The groomer has ten years on me so the odds of him still doing this in twenty years are slim. I’m going to have to do the job myself or break in a new person.  Sigh.  I’m not good with change!  I selfishly want all the people who take care of me to be around until I no longer need them so I should have looked for younger professionals instead of ones my age or older.  I’m screwed!

People have often heard me say. In life there are four things you need to do.  When you turn 50 or 60 find a new doctor, one fresh out of training.   As you age that older doctor you had forever will retire and leave you just when you need them most. (Reminds me of Randy VanWarmer’s song, ”Just When I needed You Most”.)  

You’re going to have to go out there and break in a new one, if you can find one accepting new patients.   Also look for a dentist, a young pup fresh out of university so your teeth go to the grave with you.  And two other important people to have in your life would be a carpenter and a plumber. Befriend these four professionals and you’ll get through this life as easily as going down a greased slide.  

The perfect scenario would be to become one of these professionals yourself and then marry another one on the list to cut your needs down to two.  Right now it would be nice to be best friends with a snowplough guy.  
 
Well, plough guy came at 3:00.  I watched him push the snow out of the way and for sure my vehicle wouldn’t have gone through it.  So I’m off to the store and I guess this means I had another day off as it's too late to go into the shop now.  Three days off in a row, that’s almosty a vacation!  
  


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A fly in the ointment!

2/10/2013

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I don’t usually blog on Sunday but couldn’t resist an audience to complain to.  Overt your eyes, I’d hate to ruin anyone else’s day with my whining, I just need to get it off my chest.  
 
Sure I was a smart little Brownie, I bragged about being prepared with firewood and provisions but I forgot one little thing…well, more like one big thing, maybe the most important thing of all. Cream!!!!!!  I forgot to buy cream!!!!!   Beautiful 18%, smooth as silk cream.  I can’t have coffee without it!!!  And I’m trapped like a rat on a raft, there’s no hopping in the car to rescue my caffeine addicted body!  This is where I would like to scream and swear for about fifteen minutes and not use the same word twice, but I wouldn’t want to scare the pups!!!  

Anyway, I tried to improvise.  I used a bit of vanilla ice-cream but that left a rather sickenly, odd taste in my mouth and did little to inspire a second sip.  Yuck!   I’m no coffee connoisseur but bastardizing the perfect, dark nectar with an infusion of vanilla bean and a heady amount of sugar would put me off coffee for good.  
  
So I’m cranky and irritated.  I just burned a bit of energy washing dishes and cleaning up the kitchen and I look outside and the ‘F’ word comes to mind as I look at the snow that rebelled from last night’s removal.  Every path is now back to before I started shovelling.  Like in the movie Ground Hog Day it seems I woke to the same scene as yesterday.   So much for a wonderful forced holiday.  My home is my castle my eye, I’m going to have to break out of this blasted prison and find cream or be an impossible person for the rest of the day.  Even if the cream wasn’t needed for today, there’s always tomorrow morning to worry about, when I usually have my one cuppa to jump start the day.  Sigh…… the best laid plans can be fouled by an idiot!

I remember distinctly looking at the cream in the grocery store wondering if I needed any and then remembered buying a litre the day before. And I did, but that was for the shop, too many fridges to stock without enough grey cells to distinguish between the two. I’m trying very hard to be civil but I’m pissed at my stupidity and a few well-placed swear words would do the world of could to make me feel better.  I know I have to keep it clean so here goes…..fiddlesticks, poo, sugar, crapola, dang nab it, jeepers creepers, cheese and rice, upsy daisy, fuddy duds, turd, drats, frack, fudge, beep, darnit, holy buckets, flippin, gosh darn, jumpin gerble, jumpin jehosafats, freakin, doggonit, and of course #$&@!&#^*$!
1 Comment

Snow Snow Snow

2/9/2013

2 Comments

 
I don’t understand where all this snow is coming from, especially after I said I didn’t want to see any more this winter.  Usually the universe pays attention so maybe I’m losing my touch!  Sorry all, I did my best!

Every time I take the dogs outside I have to shovel a path or lose them in a drift.  The wind is whipping the snow in my face, the only body part exposed and it seems to be coming from all directions so there’s no protected side of the house.   As much as I am not a happy camper right now, dealing with the inconvenience of it all, the world is picture perfect, stuff post cards and calendars are made of. 
 
My “Be prepared” Brownie training kicked in and I’m stocked with all the necessities.  Having an access of firewood is like having money in the bank and there’s enough to last a good week although the food won’t.  I tell everyone we’ll be the first to perish if a major disaster hits as
we don’t have a storage load of canned foods or packaged items in the pantry.  I’m not a fan of frozen anything so I buy fresh each day and although you can plan ahead for a week with vegetables, meat gives up the ghost rather quickly.   I have enough provisions to last three days and then I’ll have to improvise.  Luckily I don’t anticipate more than a two day hold up.  I cancelled my beginning class on Sunday as my ploughing company won’t be around to dig me out
until late Sunday or early Monday depending on the amount of snow that hits the  county.  So I’m stuck here.  My aunt said she might be released from the hospital on Sunday but it’s the luck of the draw whether I’ll be able to pick her up so she might have to stay put or get a taxi to the closest hotel.

I have my hooking for entertainment although the power better not go out as I won’t be able to see.  We have oil lamps but they fume so badly I get a headache so I’ll just have to take naps to pass the time.  Catching up on sleep is always a good thing and I’ve been accumulating a deficit since New Year’s.  If the power goes out the woodstove has a surface to cook on so I can heat my homemade soup.  The pups and I will snuggle close to stay warm, we’ll make a fort with blankets and pillows and the sofa cushions.   I’ll feel like a kid again! 
 
This time off is wonderful; my sincere apologies to all those suffering without electricity.  A much needed rest that would never have happened unless forced upon me.  Life is so hectic it’s difficult to smell the roses and an outside entity forcing me to jump off the hamster wheel is a blessing.  I might do a bit of much needed housework and I have four pups to brush out before their grooming next week and I plan to cover a lot of ground with my hooking.   

When I got up this morning I was surprised to find snow in the living room.  Somehow the wind pounded fine white powder through the cracks in the weather stripping surrounding  the wood storm door and then under the inside door to leave a pile of white on the braided rug. The dogs thought it was interesting and looked for me for direction.  They seemed to say, "Look Mom, it’s outside, can I pee here?"  I went into the basement and there are several piles of snow down there as well, fine white powder snuck through the rock foundation cracks and crevices, settling on all the stuff we store down there.  Now there’s a ‘honey do’ job to fix!   

Then a glance out the back door sent a chill down my spine.  I guess my new BFF, the ergonomic shovel and I are going to be spending a great deal of time together and I hope it doesn't stab me in the back with one of the H words...hernia or heart attack.   The four foot high steps that take us up to the driveway have totally disappeared….not even an edge of the cement is showing.  The  area by the backdoor is drifted up to about three to four feet.  That’s tons of snow to be shifted.  The snow is piling up like an out of control Chia pet by my back door.  Every time I look out it’s gained an inch or two.  I can’t even open the door!    By the time it’s over and I get out to shovel I’ll be standing in drifts up to my chest.  Maybe I’ll tunnel my way to the car, like the escape from Alcatraz.  Guess I better pace myself and do it in  shifts or I might need a ride to the hospital. I have enough problems with skipped beats in the ole ticker…don’t need a total gap.   Of course the wind is still blowing so I’d only be working against myself as it keeps piling back up in
that same area, so I might wait until it quiets down a bit before heading out.  I’m no clairvoyant but I predict a long hot soak in the claw tub later this evening.   

Luckily, there are a lot of area windwhipped and bare, patches of brown in between the sea of
white.   You just have to jump over drifts to get to them.  Most of the long curving driveway is bare, you see gravel through the thin patches of white, but then in two or three areas it is three feet deep.  Especially down by the main road where the plow keeps scraping the snow from the street to make a hard crusty barrier along the entrance to our property. There’s no way our vehicle would sail through that.   
 
It’s nature shaking us up a bit, chastising our lack of care for the environment, letting us know who the boss is.   I see all next week is plus temperatures so there will be a short reprieve and maybe melt some of this  mess away.  I only hope everyone out there stays safe and warm.
   



2 Comments

Lucky Thirteen!

2/8/2013

6 Comments

 
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This year salutes thirteen years in business! 
I'm calling it Lucky Thirteen! 
What a journey its been!  Here's hoping there's plenty more!
Thank-you for all your past patronage.  Stay tuned for a fabulous coupon to say thank-you for your support...without you I'd be just a room full of wool!  
6 Comments

Commissions, the first and the very last!

2/8/2013

1 Comment

 
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RIP FRUIT CHAIR PADS
Here lies my very first and last commission...may they RIP.

Back in the day when I was hungry for business and not turning anyone away;  if you know me you'll have heard me say I would sell my underwear; anyway I  was building awareness and trying to buy more stock so every dollar was delegated to grow the business.  So, when I was asked to design and hook four chair pads I heard ca-ching and said why not?

I hook quickly so I estimated a delivery time, and she negotiated the price, a nice way to say she penny pinched down to the bare cost for materials, therewould be no ca-ching!  There was nothing for labour, not even room to squeeze out ten cents an hour.   I think she smelled my desperation and played on it.  I should have said no but back then it wasn't in my vocabulary.  When you own your own business your time means nothing so she got herself the deal of a lifetime.  The chair pads were about 17" x 22", each with the same fruit motif and all the same colours which she provided paint chips for.   So I got started.  The first chair pad was interesting, trying to do simple shading with the colours she allowed and I was somewhat happy with the result.  It wasn't anything I would ever hook for myself so the enthusiasm wasn't there, which is the one problem with commissions.  I've found that unless you love your project, fueling enough steam to get to the end, the rug usually ends up packed away in the closet unfinished. 

So I started the second seat pad.   Already I could tell I made a big mistake.  That first one had taken two weeks, picking away at it in the evenings and it was all #3 and #4 cuts.  Four chair pads identical right down to the last loop was going to be a problem.  I didn't have enough love for the job to muster the excitement needed to pull it off.  I finished the second one in a little under three weeks and then the knowledge there were two more to complete almost sickened me.  I think I would have rather taken out my eyeballs and stomped on them than do those last two.  But, I am a woman of her word and I forged on at a snail’s pace.  The month long deadline had cruised by at an alarming speed and I was well into the second month with only two and a half completed so the excuses began.  She seemed sympathetic at first when I told her that I was unrealistic to say I could complete  all four in a month and still try to run my business.  i would have had to do nothing for the entire month except hook anad that wasn't realistic.  After the one month rolled into two she lost her charm and it got rather sticky and because our communication now lacked any warmth that made it even harder to do the work.  So the two months turned into three and thank goodness I didn’t drink alcohol as I might have hit the bottle and gone on a bender.  That last chair pad was grueling but I put a blitz on to finish and the entire job took three months plus the good part of another week.  

Next came the whipping and finishing.  She decided she wanted them whipped instead of just folded under and hand sewn as we initially discussed, but wasn’t willing to pay a penny extra.  I have my pride and do a job well and I like the whipped finishing and figured I could do this to soften the fact that they took longer to do.  I whipped one per evening and then I wrapped them up with a lovely little card and took them to the post office.   In my exuberance to land the contract I also forgot to quote her for shipping so I ate that as well to the tune of $30.00 for insured post because the last thing I needed to hear was that they got lost in transit.   Back then I was greener than the jolly giant so I kept shooting myself in the foot every time I opened my mouth.   Live and learn the hard way was a daily mantra.

So the weight was off my shoulders and the parcel was in the mail.  I felt like running naked in the streets, to laugh and sing.  The dark cloud of those chair pads lifted like a helium balloon and I was so thankful just to get back to a normal day, without stress or obligation to deadlines, no negative vibes floating my way.    

I emailed the client and told her that her chair pads were in the mail and that I am sure she will have years of enjoyment out of them.  Sorry it took so long but being my first commission I hadn’t quite figured out all the bumps.  Thanked her for her business and hit send.

Well, her reply left me staring at the computer screen with mouth agape.   If only she'd said those things to me prior to posting the parcel I would have given her money back and kept the chair pads, sold them in the shop for what they were worth.  She ripped a strip off me from the tip of my head to my big toe leaving me open and raw so when the salt came it stung like acid.   I fully accept responsibility for not coming through in the time quoted but I don’t think I deserved to be broken so severely.  She told me this was the worst experience of her life, that she had heard Canadians were like this and now she found out first hand that we were all lazy.    I was willing to eat the blame but that kind of comment was uncalled for and not deserved.  Painting all of my fellow countrymen/persons with the same nasty brush was rude and besides, at this point, why beat a dead horse, what did it serve?

I asked hubby what I should do for a reply; he is far wiser than me and always knows the right thing to say.   He told me to let it drop.  Don’t say anything back as it won’t make any impact.   Just use it as a life’s lesson for future commissions.  Well, there would be no more of that.   I might have been hungry for business but that project left me starving as I made no profit and had to eat a lot of crow.  I guess I am the kind of person who finds it difficult to be inspired by projects I can’t get into, and never again would I ever hook the same rug twice let alone four times, I’m not a photocopier kind of hooker!   There’s no excitement in it for me and I guess I need to be charged to tackle a project.   Every now and then I come across the picture of the rugs and wonder if she looks at those chair pads and remembers what she said.  If that was the worst experience of her life there can’t be any joy in the possession of them.   Maybe deep down I enjoy thinking that they 're tainted for her. I can be mean too. 

Despite hearing other horror stories of commissions gone wrong, I also hear wonderful tales where hugs are exchanged from the sheer joy of sharing ones talent with a customers who knows how to appreciate the time that goes into the work.   Friendships have bloomed from purchased rugs.  I think life is full of experiences, both good and bad, but no matter what comes down the chute, there are lessons woven into the story to learn from.

If any of you reading this had a positive commission experience leave a comment as I would love to hear about it to help wipe away the one I had. 


 

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Lois Sweeney Remembered

2/7/2013

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Lois Lyle Sweeny

April 23, 1928 – August 7, 2007

Lois graduated from Acadia University and married her soul mate, Robert Sweeny in 1949.  She was an avid rug hooker and was a member of the Rug Hooking Guild of Nova Scotia. 

Lois’s specialty was oriental style hooked rugs.  She preferred the finer cuts and had a keen eye for detail when shading the delicate motifs she so loved.   

I was so happy to have been able to visit with Lois before she passed away.  My husband had a slight table saw accident  requiring stitches so we went to emergency where I was surprised to find Lois.  Although I could tell she was struggling she was still delightful and forever positive.  She said she hadn't been hooking in some time and missed it. I showed her the rug I was whipping and she enjoyed the whimsy of it.  When Bob entered the room I was impressed by the way he smiled at her and the look of softness on her face and the love in her voice when she called him “dear”.  Truly, a love couple. 

The word that best described Lois would be 'lady'.  She was petite and feminine to a fault but don't let appearances fool you, she was handy and resourceful, getting down and dirty with renovating or using a scroll saw to cut out wafer thin wood ornaments. 

When I first opened Encompassing Designs in one small room of our house, Lois was the first customer to walk through the door.  I had been looking out of the window and saw a car screech to a halt  right in the road, traffic behind her following suit to avoid rear ending her car.  The words “Rug Hooking” splashed across the sign on the front lawn had grabbed her attention like a bee to a flower.  She was so very pleased for me, wishing me all the best.  It was people like Lois who spread my name around the community so that other rug hookers found their way to my door.  

Until her passing Lois was a constant in my rug hooking life.  She would pop into the shop to say hi and we'd meet at hook-ins around the province, which she would sometimes host to the delight of those invited.  To heck with the hooking, we were there for the food!  Bone China tinkled as we sipped a very civilized cup of tea or coffee.  Crustless sandwiches, quiche and all manor of tastefully prepared nibbles were always served, and last but not least, her legendary sweets capped off the afternoon.  To sum it all up.....before Martha, there was Lois!

All those who knew Lois will remember her passion for baking and those delightful gingersnaps we all drooled over.   One was too many and a thousand was never enough!  Thin as paper, crispy and loaded with melt in your mouth goodness, every bite was a slice of heaven.  The recipe follows. 

This beautiful poem was part of her service. 
It was the first time I'd heard it...so beautiful... 

Native Prayer
 
Let us not cling to mourning,
Do not stand on my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sunlight opened grain,
I am the gentle Autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand on my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die.

Author Unknown



Lois Sweeny’s Ginger Snaps

½ cup butter
½ cup Fleishmann’s Corn Oil Margarine
½ cup Brown Sugar
2 tsp Ginger
1 cup molasses
Mix above ingredients together and heat on the stove till hot.  Remove from heat and cool 20 minutes or so.  Add 1 tsp soda – dissolve by stirring well. 

Add 3 cups sifted all purpose flour. 

Place bowl in fridge till cool enough to handle, then make rolls. Chill again.  Slice, place rounds on greased cookie sheet.  Press down with side of hand and wrist until thin.   Place sheet in oven of 350*.  Turn oven down immediately to 250*.  Set timer for 12 – 15 minutes.  Remove from oven and use spatula to remove cookies at once.
 



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He's the man!

2/6/2013

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Rug hookers, this is the man of your dreams!  Crawford Purdy is our Canadian cutter service lifeline. He fixes all cutters on the market and sharpens all our blades.  He's a godsend! 

Crawford usually has a booth at rug school for drop off and pick ups.  He lives in Truro so he's a handy dandy for the Annual Rug Hooking Guild School of Nova Scotia held at the Agricultural College, Truro in May. 


Hope he plans to work until he's 100 as there isn't anyone else local to service one of the most important elements of this craft....cutting wool!  Without him, we're nothing!

If you need your blades sharpened or a tweak on a machines give Crawford a call. 
Crawford Purdy, Truro, NS….902-893-8338

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Spring Bunnies With Tulips

2/5/2013

3 Comments

 
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I've been meaning to hook this pattern as a spring window display for years.  Time to bite the bullet and get it done! 

I have two versions of this design and I hope to do them both but sometimes I talk a big story and don't walk the walk.  Life has an annoying tendency to get in the way, and like the cobblers kids, not having shoes, working in the shop I don't seem to hook as much as I'd like too.  So lets say, I'll do this one and hopefully get to the other one if time allows.  Like loosing weight, you don't want to set too lofty a goal or you come off with a bit of egg on your face down the road.  

I'm working on a basic shading for the tulips that looks quite detailed at a distance.  This rug is strictly for the window, not a project for my home so the trick is to polish it off quickly.  It will probably be hung later on in the shop and up for sale. 


The colours are Hot Pink, Lavender, Violet and Corona for the tulips.  I had Shane dye up a Turquoise yesterday as I thought maybe another colour wouldn't hurt but I'm still on the fence about it.  It might be one of those things you hook up and tear out if it doesn't click.  The real challenge will be the leaves.  There is a lot of them and they intertwine and overlap.  I've got a huge stash of greens that I'm drawing from so hopefully I get it right or dye trying...ha!

The sky is our abrashed Blue Sky and the perfect compliment to the happy colours in the flowers.  The border will be one of the wools dyed for the Valentine's Day window and the lacework will be done in a very light pink mottle...or at least that's what I'm thinking but that's subject to change as the rug evolves.    The bunnies area going to be left for a bit cause I'm still pondering that one.  I'll do them in a simple shading technique as well, I just haven't decided what colour to use.  I'm not one of those people who colour plan from the get go and stick with it.  I like to travel on that journey and see where it takes me.  I'll keep you posted.   Below is the second design.  Everything is the same except the tulips are now colourful Easter Eggs.   


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Spring Bunnies With Tulips
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Spring Bunnies With Easter Eggs
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