After a very restless night of almost coughing up a lung, I watched the hours tick by before finally getting some sleep around 5:00 am. Needless to say I am still in no shape to open the shop. For sure Friday.
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Sorry all...I'm in the red! I'm just too sick to hold the hook-in tomorrow evening....you'll thank me for not spreading this nastiness around. I don't think I'll make it through the entire work day without a lie down and a duvet. Seriously, I seem to be worse than yesterday so I might not even make it into the shop tomorrow. I'd call ahead if you are planning a trip to Mahone Bay. It's time to start taking care of myself or I'll be as useless as a broken chain on a bicycle.
Written Monday evening... Well today was the best of times and the worst of times. I managed to get lots of work done but my nose ran the entire day. It’s hard to be positive when you feel like your head is in a vice squeezing body fluids out your nose. Thank goodness for the invention of Kleenex although I’m not happy at the number of trees that were sacrificed to wipe away my nasal drip. If you have a few dollars to spare buy stock in tissue immediately as I know their profits will soar until this cold is brought to its knees. Well…enough about the mucus. You’ve all had colds, you know the score but stay tuned for updates from Phlegm Central. I worked a bit late and came home around 7:00 to forage for food. I wasn't overly hungry but I know I need to fuel my body. I never know which is right, starve a fever, feed a cold or vice versa. Regardless, I have to eat to keep my blood sugar regulated so whether I feel for anything or not, I have to be sensible and eat. At this point it wouldn’t matter what I stuff into my mouth as there’s not a taste bud on duty, so it comes down to what kind of texture I’d like. Something soft and chewy or hard and crunchy. It just isn’t very appetizing thinking of food as texture. I ended up making a homemade cream tomato soup as liquids seem to be a bit more soothing and roll down the throat without having to chew. Who wants lumps of food that have no taste? Then I plan to tackle and finish that “Do The Hockey Pokey”pattern. I’m not sure how intriguing it will be to others but I feel it’s interesting. I’m not sure what kind of appeal a rug that has shoes and parts of ankles and lower legs will have. It’s one of those artsy types and a few of those in the collection won’t hurt for those who circle outside the box. Sometimes you just have to design a piece that makes you think. Speaking of provoking thought, I want to tell you a story without one designer’s perspective that crossed my path. It happened out of the blue via an email and left me with a bit of a dilemma. I’m not the judge and jury of rug hooking so it isn’t for me to say whether anyone’s work is relevant or not. She approached me to display her art so that allows me to tell the story and give you my observations and here goes. Not all of us see art in the same way, just as in life we are all different flowers from the same garden and diversity makes us interesting. So a while back I got this email from a woman who wanted me to showcase her pieces in my store. I learned a long time ago, that consignment rugs of other artists don’t do much for business. When a customer sees a fantastic rug and then asks for the pattern I don’t like saying, sorry, no it’s copyrighted by someone else. So I stopped taking rugs on consignment unless they were one of my patterns so I was able to supply the design when requested. So this gave me an excuse to turn the woman down but I also felt I needed to explain why and I did in a very diplomatic way, at least I hope I did. I felt like saying kids would run screaming from the store but sometimes it's better to bite your tongue. Her pieces were too controversial for the shop; with subjects that might be considered offensive, if not grotesque. In this business you cater to a large cross section of the population and some view nudity and racy styles with a furrowed brow. There’s a pattern in my shop called "Temptation". It depicts the garden of Eden, with Adam, Eve and the serpent wrapped around a fabulous apple tree which I designed in a William Morris style with border. Eve is bare chested in all her feminine glory, the natural look before the bite of the apple shamed them into clothes. I’ve heard a few sniggers while people peruse the design racks, an indication which pattern they've just viewed. And I know that Rug Hooking Magazine has blacked out a few parts on a rug featuring a mastectomy scar so you have to tread lightly with certain topics as not to put anyone off. Along with the email, the woman had attached a few pictures of her work and even though I am generally unshockable, I must say my lower jaw dropped into my shoe. The woman had a very interesting outlook and her pieces were thought provoking to say the least. They were incredibly graphic, and I got the feeling that the artist would take that remark as a compliment. I found her website and quite frankly, the pieces she sent me were tame. She’s a bit angry at the Ontario Craft Council for rejecting her submission for funding and the ensuing piece she created resembles revenge......it's spiteful, pornographic and dark. I will admit, the women’s hooked faces had personalities; although I’m not sure if they are expressions of anger or fear or maybe both? Cartoonish squared off mouths and teeth, told a tale of strength though hard knocks and I don’t give a crap attitude. I think her stuff would have been well received in Gotham City but in little ole Mahone Bay, not so much. I would like to post the pictures but I’m a little weary of the reaction. I’ve already been chastised for telling the truth a while back. I don’t intentionally set out to upset anyone, I’m just writing about my experiences, that’s all I have; my truth. Besides, I wouldn’t show her work or name her without her permission, although I can’t see the harm in describing her work with words. If you are faint of heart sign off now. The boldest of the group of pictures was a rug with a woman on a table giving birth. The child’s head was out and there was a great deal of blood over the table and on the floor. There was something about the way the legs were parted and the look on the woman’s face that drew you in and made you wonder what could have happened in someone’s life to use the beauty of childbirth as something ugly, at least that’s how I felt. The infant was scary, had the same strange expression, more of the squared mouth and teeth. I sort of felt like the baby was packing heat and the next push would expose a cash of weapons. What do I know? It’s just a feeling. Quite frankly I’ve never seen anything like it but maybe I've lived a sheltered life. Another one was of a nude woman on her hands and knees with nails along her spine and both of her hands were tools, hammers I believe. No explanation came with the piece and I could assume but I would have been wrong. I saw on the website she calls this one “Work” so I was off the mark completely. I really can't see the relationship it might have to toil, but I admit, I'm obviously not qualified to follow this script. Another piece was a woman, once again on her hands and knees and her back was a table set for dinner with tablecloth, cutlery and plates. She had what looked like a stick of dynamite in her mouth and one sticking out of her back end, both had been lit. I wasn’t able to get a read on this piece either but I’m sure there was a story behind it, no pun intended. One piece was a woman with half a head of blue hair, the other side blond, with the same squared mouth and teeth. She was staring right at the observer and giving the finger. It dripped rebellion and anger but that’s just my take on it. Unless art comes with an explanation the meaning becomes the interpretation of the observer and that’s what I saw. After she emailed me I thought crap. Now I have to deal with this. Being raised with manners, I needed to reply, say something, but all I could think was how I get into trouble doing absolutely nothing. Like I have time for this. So I dealt with it as kindly as I could and I didn’t hear back from her which was absolutely okay. It takes all kinds to entertain and impress the world. I’m not sure who her target audience is and target might not be the best word....but I don’t think she’ll be president of any rug hooking guilds any time soon.  So I mentioned my design called "Temptation". It depicts the garden of Eden and the first sin.
Designed in the William Morris style. The apple tree could be a visual feast with pops of red throughout the multi-green foliage. The serpent is wrapped casually around the tree trunk whispering to Eve in an attempt to facilitate the first temptation of man. Adam is arriving at the tree just in time for this pivotal moment. Adam and Eve in all their naked resplendence, except for a strategically placed leaf to cover the part. Good practice piece using flesh tone values for realism. Notice the absent belly buttons....not created by natural child birth I thought it more interesting to omit them. This design continually speaks to me, all those leaves and apples dance around in my thoughts. I know I will have to hook this design as I have hooked it several times in my head and need to see it come to fruition. Also, I look forward to working with flesh tone values to breathe realism into their bodies.  Hot of the press new pattern. "Get Hooked!"
22" x 36"  Well, salt has been added to injury. I now have a cold! The question is where did it come from? I haven’t hugged anyone lately or shared a beverage. I’m very careful that way. So somehow an invader has wormed its way into my system and manifested itself by stuffing up my nose, bringing on spasms of cold chills plus a dense fog clouding my fevered head. It started with a bit of sneezing yesterday but waited for today to completely show itself. I should have known something was up. I dreamed last night; vivid, creative dreams, something that has eluded me since I learned to cut down on my anxiety. I call the loss the collateral damage of stress reduction. My dreams were always like a free trip to the movies. Back in the day when I dreamed prolifically, I hated to wake in the mornings, interrupting a story line that held me intrigued enough to want to finish it. Lately, my nights have been black as pitch, nothing except sleep when it finally hits so I’ve been waking up bored and disappointed. It’s now obvious that mucus is a trigger. I’m feeling insulted that this could happen. I’m kind of arrogant that way because I live clean and healthy. I guess that fall the other day set the stage for a string of events and I’m hoping this is the final act. My taste is off, my smell is down to less than 5% and I just want to crawl to the sofa and get horizontal with my misery and maybe sleep a bit. Being sick is almost peaceful if not for the interruptions of violent sneezing fits which make me wish I stocked Depends! I optimistically brought work home for today. Two patterns I’ve been playing around with. One is called “Do The Hokey Pokey”, a bunch of right feet around the perimeter of the paper. I don’t know how old you’d have to be to relate to this childhood song and dance, but maybe it’s still current…I’m not up on what kids do today but I do know things go around and around. My friends are more in the grandma stage of life; working on the next generation of wee ones. The other rug I’m designing is all about hats and will probably be called “Hats Off To Ya!”. All kinds of hats, all shapes and sizes, to go along with the other fashionista pieces recently designed of purses and shoes. After that I’ll draw colourful socks and possibly mittens, who knows where this will end. If only I brought home some of the Keurig Green Tea KCups I just bought for the shop. A bit of tea and lemon might take the edge off my misery. Of course I could make tea from scratch, we have a jar filled with several selections of bulk leaves, but that would require a bit of labour and I’ve grown quite used to the easy style of my beloved Keurig…and then there’s the squeezing lemon bit…..sigh, it’s not going to be a great day! You are probably getting the idea that I'm not a very good patient, and you'd be bang on. I don't like being sick or down for the count and I whine like a little girl. So I'm not wearing the big panties today out of fear of wetting them in a sneezing fit. I don’t usually blog on Sunday but what else is there to do. No one here to talk to, the TV is boring and I ache all over. Too funny, I just saw that ad on TV for Nyquil….Pam…Pam…call my mom? I used to think it was hilarious but it touched a little too close to home today and I seem to be more in the guy's camp...…poor fellow with that insensitive wife throwing the bottle at him! No matter how big you are, when you’re sick you need your mommy! Well that won't happen in my case, but right now I’d settle for anyone capable of cold compressing my head and squeezing a lemon. I’m posting the ad for those of you who haven’t seen it….it’s criminal the way she treats that poor man! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0umLwBBypYM I wasn't 100% when I got home from work last evening but I had high hopes that it wouldn’t amount to anything. I convinced myself I was sneezing from wool dust, an occupational hazard. I hoped it would all be gone this morning, not attacking me full force with it’s vengeance. My poor little white cells haven’t seen this much action since I sat on a rusty nail while roofing a cape cod house. I spent three days in the hospital to rid myself of blood poisoning and was the butt of many jokes. Pardon the pun!
So last night, I still had my taste buds and made Rene’s Caesar Salad along with the best pork chop I’ve ever eaten. So tender and juicy…sorry vegans, I like my meat! I’ve been searching for the perfect Caesar recipe for years. I’ve been so disappointed in restaurants I no long choose it as a starter. I do like the heavy garlic of the one at the Knot Pub in Lunenburg, but it's more like pub fare than a fine dining opener. The traditional Caesar‘s dominant flavour is lemon, and I can appreciate those recipes, but for me the perfect salad bosts a lot of garlic. I’m talking about little bursts of fire as the garlic bits land on the tongue. I’m talking about a Caesar so potent that you smell it for days as it oozes out of your being. Despite the dysfunction of my senses I can still smell it this afternoon and of course the fever helps it weep from my pores. So I’ll share this jewel of a recipe with you. Of course the ingredients call for a normal amount of garlic; I just kick it up a notch. For those of you who like simplicity this is the recipe for you and there aren’t any pesky raw eggs to worry about. Like I said, it’s the best one I’ve ever had! I’ll put it in a separate blog for those who might like to print it off and not have all these words wasting your printer paper. Rene is a friend of ours who took a job out west and when he visits here he stays in our spare room. He has a son in the area so we see him about three times a year. He introduced this recipe to us and although he is a wonderful guy, domestic, nice, good looking and French, I will always remember him the most for this recipe. He solved the quest for the perfect Caesar and now I can have it any time I like. This recipe makes enough for several meals so you can store the remaining sauce in the fridge and later add a bit of olive oil for more romaine lettuce. If you have a better recipe I would be willing to try it but in the meantime I found my jewel. Thanks Rene!  2 Med garlic bulbs
1 Tbsp Blue Cheese 2 Tbsp Olve Oil 1 Tbsp Lemon Juice 1/2 tsp Ground Pepper 1/4 tsp Salt 1/2 tsp Dry Mustard 3/4 Cups Hellman's Mayo 1/2 Cup Parmesan Cheese Simple prep...just mix it all together. Will last several days in the fridge.  I’m not sure what’s happening with this darn weather. I specifically put in a request for no more snow, but here’s March coming in like a lion although I'm the one doing the growling...grrrr. We hookers, we like wool,! We want lambs bringing in March!
So Thursday I missed work due to my injured knee and then Friday I was storm stayed. By the way, thank-you all for your kind words, they were very uplifting. The song “Momma Said There’d Be Days Like This” played in my head all day long. My leg is much better today after two days of rest. In all the snow yesterday I wasn't about to risk aggravating it by shoveling my way to the road. So yesterday, I sat nursing a very nice cup of java wondering what I should write about. Usually I'm inspired by something that happens at work and have my database of pictures and patterns to draw from. Being home, I 'm forced to jabber on about other stuff, maybe continue the theme from the day before yesterday about the willow infatuation. I actually had another epiphany I'd like to share. I was chatting with hubby about recessed memories and triggers that evoke emotional responses and he shared an interesting story. Apparently his daughter, just shy of two years, got quite a surprise when daddy left for an ocean yacht delivery, clean shaven and smooth to return with a black growth that scared the training pants off her. She wouldn't go to him until he shaved it off. To this day she doesn’t like men with beards and it’s a make or break deal when accepting a date. And when she married, Hubby liked to tease her about marrying a guy that not only had a bare face but he was bald as well, as far away from facial hair as she could get. I can relate to that experience. A red headed boy, who apparently had a crush on me but didn’t clue in that maybe spitting in my hair wasn’t the best way to get my attention, put me off dating ginger haired men later in life. Then I jokenly said to hubby. I wonder what happened in my past to attract me to poodles? Not one or two, but oodles of poodles. I currently have four but secretly desire more. I have visions of at least a half dozen playing in the yard and walking by my side. At risk of becoming the crazy dog lady I might have to restrain myself, but if an opportunity presented itself I don’t know if I would have the strength to walk away. A shelter poodle would be snatched up in a heart beat, and I’m sort of hankering for one of the party poodles of mixed colours. For those of you that don’t know, before the party poodle came into vogue, pups with mixed colouring would be disposed of because there wasn't a market for them. But now they fetch higher prices than solid coloured ones. Paris Hilton or some other larger than life legend of their own mind must have expressed interest and made them a hot commodity. My hubby likes a quote by Jon Stewart, “Man marvels at the beauty of nature, and then tries to fix it”. Of all the breeds out there, I often wondered why I landed on the poodle. The only drawback is the need to be groomed once a month. I’m not willing, or have the time to do it myself and quite frankly my groomer earns every penny and should get more. Hopefully he never retires as he's top notch, with over 30 years experience doing poodle clips. I say it’s money well spent; the money saved from not indulging in cigarettes, bingo, booze and any other habits I don’t have. I would rather get rid of my TV cable than my groomer! So as I was chatting with hubby a picture flashed in my brain, the aforementioned epiphany, and I see very clearly the poodle from my formative years. Once again, I’m a wee thing, marveling over this magical poodle that turned pink or blue depending on the weather. It held my fascination for a long time, checking it every morning while forcing down hot oatmeal. I think it turned pink for fine days and blue for stormy ones but it’s so far back my memory may be serving something I didn’t order. But I remember distinctly that the base colour was white. Hmmmmmmmm; and there's the rub! Now I love all my babies, each one has a very different personality, each one is sweet and gentle, and loves the bones off me but….and there’s always a but…the white ones have always owned a larger percentage of my heart. Louis, the one who passed away, shared a close bond with me like an accident with crazy glue, and although I never thought I could love another dog half as much, Henri has wormed his way into my heart even more. In the past, I wondered if the colour had anything to do with it, but dismissed the notion...surely it came down to personality, but maybe now I'm not so sure. Maybe I'm drawn to them by my subconscious mind. I certainly love the red, apricot and now the black; they are like a graduated swatch, from light to dark. I love their colours but…and there’s that but again, the white ones give me the urge to squeeze the poop out of them, in a loving way of course, I just can't hug them enough, and bury my nose in the top of their heads and sniff their wonderful smell. So what came first, the love or the poodle? Maybe the envelope was always there waiting for white paper to be stuffed into it. If not for Janet Delo, a fellow rug hooker, I may have missed the opportunity to discover poodles...although I believe it was destined to happen at some point. Brian, her husband, ordered an Ott-Lite from my shop for his wife for Christmas and I was going to the city for supplies so I offered to meet up with him in front of Staples to hand deliver it. I did my shopping and was waiting for him to arrive when the phone rang that he was running late. I didn't want to hang around Staples, or sit in the car with the motor running so I spied Pets Unlimited and said I would be in there, come find me. Well, I’m looking at all the puppies when I see this little face looking at me from behind the glass. My heart had been severely broken three years earlier when my Shepherd passed away and I swore I would never have another dog. I’m loyal like that…when I love something that much, I feel guilty loving again. But there was this sweet little face saying "pick me, pick me" and I felt a flutter in my chest. The friend with me said, "go on, get her!" I phoned my hubby to get his input and all he said was, “Is she in the car already?” I said no, but I wondered what I would do with a puppy? My Max, the Shepherd, had come to me at 18 months, trained and ready to roll. I was in virgin territory and didn't know one end of a puppy from another! So Brian shows up and the two of them pummel me with advice, telling me to go for it. Brian thought my hesitation might be monetary and even offered to lend me money to purchase her. That wasn't my problem, I knew the moment I saw her she would be mine....I was just working out a plan in my head how my life would be with a little one in tow. I asked to hold her and was told that wouldn't be possible. Apparently fanatics come into the store and asked to hold puppies with the Parvo virus on their hands, purposely hoping to kill them. That was a bit of a shocker and quite frankly I really didn't understand. Apparently, I would have to buy her to hold her so fair enough, where do I pay? So, the next thing I know we're heading home with a puppy. One look at her and all I could think was “what a honey” so Honey she was. and we got along like a house on fire right from the start. There were a few pees on the floor until I got used to her needs but she proved to be smart and easily trained. The trouble started when I told people I'd bought a puppy from the pet store. I swear I was ignorant of puppy mills but apparently that's no excuse. At a pet supply shop when asked where I got my new puppy and I innocently said a store, the shit hit the fan. I was told, not so nicely and in a loud voice, that my little girl would be dead in three months so I’d better get her vet checked. In my defense I replied, "I thought I was saving a puppy and giving it a good home" but apparently not...instead I was just torturing the mother to produce another brood to be sold for profit, the likes of me having no care about the mother's caged and abused existence. At that very moment I was worse than the dirt on my shoes. Interesting....while I was being slammed I was handing over several hundred dollars to pay for a bed, bowl, toys and a collar for my new bundle. A strange way to treat a paying customer. I would have walked out but at the time there wasn't any other place close by to purchase items for animals and my baby needed supplies! So I took the verbal assault, paid her for abusing me and left with my wares. I was upset to say the least. When I expressed concerns to my vet, he told me that he has seen a lot of fine animals come from pet stores. That there had been a nasty ring of mills in the past but a lot of them had been cleaned up or closed. He thought the chances of me getting one of the sickly puppies was slim as she seemed to check out beautifully and in nine years my little darling girl has never been to the vet for any problems, other than the normal spaying. After I did a bit of research on the internet about puppy mills, I changed the error of my ways and sought out breeders for my next poodles, although it was interesting that every one of them came with some health issues.....doing the right thing doesn’t always mean trouble free. Poodles are a bit high maintenance and probably the reason they aren’t as popular as other breeds. The first thing you have to do is find a good groomer. At first I didn’t have them shaped like traditional poodles. I denied their heritage as a hunting/retriever dog, that went into the water after game. Poodles are fabulous swimmers. and their fancy clips were purposed to keep specific organs warm. But I wasn't overly keen on that pouffy look so I opted for the Teddy bear cut, just a basic all over clip. Gradually I gravitated toward the trimmed faces, paws and tails. Well actually it was more of an well engineered slip on my groomer’s part. Every now and then I would go to pick them up and he’d say ooops…I forgot you didn’t want that…I’d look at the dog, there was nothing I could do so I'd shrug and take them home. Then it would grow on me so I’d say okay, permission to do it again. Then a few more grooms would pass and there would be another slip. So now they are faced shaved, feet trimmed and tails pouffed and I love it! I've made Bob swear not to poodlize them further and he’s promised. He got what he wanted and can stop with the so called ‘accidental clips’. I'll never be into the bouffant, showdog look, no time to maintain it and truthfully I don’t find it attractive. It’s bad enough I have to spend time blow-drying and primping myself, a dog should be a dog and not have to spend any more time being fussed over than necessary. So I’ve been on a journey of discovery and find it fascinating. I spent a while on the internet looking for those weather poodles. I’m not sure but I have the sense that it might be an Avon product. I remember the well-coiffed, perfumed representative coming to the house at least once a month peddling her bag of wares. It seems like something the Avon company would have manufactured, either that or Watkins’s. If anyone out there remembers the origin of these poodles please let me know as I am more than curious. I wouldn't mind finding one to have as a keepsake. I'm 99% sure the picture is identical to the one from my childhood. This guy even looks like my Henri....it's uncanny! Once the groomer started clipping their faces I asked him to give Henri a French whisker, how did I even know about that? And Henri sits in that very pose at times, very proud with his head back. Now I'm beginning to think that I married my father too....hubby is slim like my dad always was. And apparently my dish fetish was a repressed memory. I'm beginning to wonder if I've had any original ideas as an adult!? By Guest Blogger Mary Doig  Linda MacDonald, owner of Rags to Rugs Hooking Studio in Pictou NS, graciously gave me permission to make a smaller version of her famed heritage pattern, for my own use. Linda has purchased, and is painstakingly rescuing and restoring the Garrett’s Bluenose patterns, preserving this important part of Nova Scotian rug hooking history. Here’s her web page: http://www.ragstorugs.com As a child, I remember the Three Bears rug well in the homes of friends and relatives. I suspect that it is the most loved, and most well known of all the Garrett’s Bluenose patterns. Years before Linda bought the Garrett’s Bluenose designs, I drew a design of the Three Bears from a booklet that had been compiled of them, changing the dimensions to be smaller, but keeping the body of the design true to the original. I made this rug for a number of babies in our circle of family and friends. After Linda started producing the Bluenose patterns, I bought them from her. The original Three Bears Bluenose pattern is larger than I wanted for my next project, because I wanted to add a large border to it. I contacted Linda for permission to use my old drawing. She gave me her permission, and accepted the copy fee that I insisted on sending her. Linda has done so much work to restore these patterns, that I would not feel right about making the rug without her permission, and without giving compensation for her investment of money and time in rescuing this design. Please do this if you are considering amending (or copying) someone else’s design, and contact them to arrange a situation that is acceptable to each of you. It is important for our rug hooking community to respect copyright law, and equally importantly, you can take pride in your finished work. Now let’s talk about hooking the rug! With the impending arrival of our youngest niece’s first baby, I wanted to make a special gift. Some reconnaissance from my sister-in-law informed me that the nursery walls were grey, so I thought I’d do a Three Bears with a mottled grey sky. I mixed some as-is grey texture with leftover soft greys that I had dyed for previous projects. Then I thought I would do the rest in plaids. I had just finished a project that had some rich red and blue abrashes, so it seemed reasonable to match my plaids to these colours, and so it wouldn’t be too crazy busy with too much plaid, use some of the abrashed material with them. The best thing about working with plaids is that you have an automatic colour plan. Just match your colours to the plaid and it all goes together like magic. You can also strip different areas of the plaid to get more of one colour, or darker and lighter shades. It’s fun to play with plaids. The Three Bears practically hooked themselves, this mat was so much fun to do. It’s all ready to give to little Paisley Rae, who arrived safely on February 26, 2013. If you want to read more about the Garrett’s Bluenose patterns, here is a link: http://www.civilization.ca/cmc/exhibitions/cpm/catalog/cat2102e.shtml |
Christine Little has been ranked #5 out of the 60 top rug hooking bloggers by Rug Hooking Magazine!
 
Max Anderson, Australia, recipient of my Nova Scotia Treasures rug. An award of excellence for promoting Canada through his writing.
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