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By Guest Blogger Carole St. Amand

I am so thankful to have found enjoyment in rug hooking and it continues to occupy my mind on my way to a long recovery. My friend Odette is the one that introduced me to it.

I used carded natural wool fleece (for the sheep) and wool yarn, wool strips and dyed fleece for the grass at the bottom. For the rest of the rug I used wool off the bolt or dyed (all new). I would like to say I used number 8 cuts but without a cutter or access to one, I had to cut all the wool by hand - either with a rotary cutter (not very successfully) or just hand-cut with scissors (trying to cut 1/4" strips but sometimes wider). Most of the wool fabric had to be ordered on-line as I was not very mobile at the time. I would say it took me about 4 or 5 days at most to hook it entirely.

As I think I told you before, my friend bought me the pattern as a get well gift. She knew I love sheep because we have a sheep herding dog (a Schapendoes). I guess she thought it would be something to help get my mind off things. Her idea was that we would work on it together and select wool and she would show me how. But I was impatient and started doing research on the internet. I ordered a beginner's kit and a video and was able to go to a local studio for a beginner's workshop just so I could learn how to complete this pattern.

I have been recovering since October 27th (the date of the accident) and am now walking with a cane. It has been a very emotional journey for both my husband and I as we were both struck by a vehicle as pedestrians. Before rug hooking, I felt a little depressed and my life as I knew it before did not exist - no hiking, or walking and running with my dog, no cross-country skiing, no shopping in malls etc.... This new found love of wool has re-energized me and I have been sketching my own designs non-stop and just can't stop buying wool to make more rugs!!!!!

Carole

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I call stories such as these "Sweet & Sour". The sour is how some people suffer in life, from things beyond their control, but then I am inspired how they come out the other side of this trying tunnel through hard work and fortitude. Accidents and all manner of mishaps happen and can change life as we know it but it doesn't have to be in a bad way. Some things may go but other things are waiting to fill the void. Joy can be found in many places, you only have to look to find it. This is the sweet.

So to hear that rug hooking moved in and helped the healing process, taking her mind temporarily away from her troubles to fill her life with beauty and renewed hope made me smile. Carole's story is a tradegty but in this time of struggle emerged a Phoenix out of the dust for a new lease on life and obviously the start of something fantastically wonderful.

This sweet little pattern called "Dances With Wool" was designed for a teacher who wanted to incorporate flowers with a sheep. I designed two of them. One critter was kicking up water in a mud puddle wearing rubber boots, and the other was sporting high heels such as the sweet little lamb above. I've seen this pattern hooked many times and each time it makes me chuckle. This is one of those designs that's pure fun...maybe for Carole it represented one day soon, being able to kick up her heels once again. I love everything about this piece, she did a great job with colour planning and I am so excited to see what she'll come up with next.

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Hook Me A Tree - Round

5/29/2013

Here is another variation of my funky tree pattern hooked by Chris McNeil. The jumping off point for colour planning this piece was the fabulous plaid used in the border. The rug picture appears quite dark along the edge but the plaid wool sample below is quite true in colour and much more vibrant.

Plaids offer a great opportunity for colour planning. They can sport every colour needed down the various strips. I'm having a real love affair with plaids and the feeling intensifies each time I use them.

In this particular plaid there is a mossy green, bright blue, cranberry and a gold that might be too subtle to see but its there. I'm a hooker, not a photographer!

The trees are hooked with a blend of the various dyed colours from the plaid palette and the light background was the request of the customer. Chris had hooked the original design, the long table runner, with the same tree motifs and decided that she would like to hook a round version. I designed a 30" round pattern with two of each of the four trees.

Chris hooked the background in a very interesting way. If you look at the pictures closely you will see it is all straight lines but in a tent style, starting at the center and fanning out to the border in four separate quadrants. Interesting and effective in that sometimes hooking in a circle can cause the rug to buckle. This assured the fibers would be pushed out toward the border and not create unfortunate rippling or cupping. Clever idea Chris The instructions I wrote in the kit said to hook the background higgly piggly but she wasn't sure what that meant so did her own thing. That was a good lesson for me as I would not have thought of it but now think "It's great! Chris suggested this pattern would make a lovely tree skirt and I agree....maybe with other motifs in between the stylized trees such as candy canes, ornaments and all things Christmas. Hmmmm.....

Yum-lishous plaids! Hated them as a child, in those itchy wool skirts I was forced to wear. Wool has come a long way. Today's fabrics seem soft and I often joke about rolling around in them naked. Not to worry, the wool at the shop has not touched naked flesh!

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Introducing the Wool Widget!

5/27/2013

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Order the fabulous Wool Widget today! The first twenty customers will receive a fat quarter of Dorr Natural to get started!

The Wool Widget comes with instructions.

Encompassing Designs is proud to introduce the Wool Widget!

The best little gadget since the wool cutter!   It holds the wool to reduce accidents; we’ve all dropped our wool into the dye bath using pins and tongs! No more burning fingers in scalding water!!

Made in Mahone Bay!
Sits in the water while you answer the phone or mix the next solution.
The round shape fits nicely in the pot
Beautifully turned oak with sturdy spool handle for gripping
Finished with varnish
No fuss, pointed brass hooks hold the wool secure

Instructions on how to use your Wool Widget

If your wool is the same size as the circumference of the base you can attach it snuggly. Hook the wool with slightly less than ½ inch edge to have a firm grip on the fabric. If the wool is wider you can let it hang loosely by draping it from hook to hook until it fits around the entire base. The holes will not impact your hooking and will be in the end of the cut strip that will end up a tail that will be cut off.   The holes will hardly be seen once the wool is removed and dried. You can also snag the selvage edge which will be removed. The wool can also be hung slightly overlapped or double thickness.

Use a hotplate on a low table if available or on the floor so you don’t have to stand on a ladder or step stool to be able to dip longer pieces of wool on the stove burner. It is safer to work closer to the floor to avoid unfortunate accidents with hot water and splashing on the face. Big tip – don’t wear open toed shoes or sandals!!! If you have a range hood that is low and reaches out over the burners you may have to roll the stove out from the wall to clear the hood when dipping up and down. Most stoves are on rollers for ease of cleaning behind them so they slide in and out easily.

Have your formulas ready to go so you don’t have to stop between adding each colour. A practice formula is below and to lessen or intensify the colour you can add or subtract dye powder. This would dye a ½ piece of natural with a medium colouring. Don’t worry about the colours being too bright on their own. Once they are overlapped it will tone them down a bit. I use Majic Carpet dyes but any basic yellow, orange and red would work.

Equipment Needed to dip-dye Fire Formula

3 measuring cups (one cup per formula)
Dye - Stir sticks - Vinegar - Tablespoon
Pot - 12 Quart is a nice size with high walls (less splashing)
Wool widget - Wool
Heat source (stove burner or hotplate)
Paper towel - Aluminum Foil
Pan - Oven

Fire

   1st Formula 1/16 tsp. Yellow
2nd Formula 1/16 tsp. Orange
3rd Formula 1/16 tsp. Red

Mix each formula in 1 cup boiling water with 2 Tbsp. vinegar

Add your first colour (Yellow) to the hot water. Not boiling, just simmering. At no time do you allow the water to boil, if it gets too hot turn down the burner or add a bit of cold water.

Put the wool into the pot and pump it up and down in an even rhythmic movement getting the bottom third saturated with the dye. Slowly dip it farther into the pot, continuing the pump action until you reach the upper area of the wool. You can dip it right over the top of the wool by lowering the entire widget just below the water.

Never stop in the middle of dipping the wool when there is still a lot of dye in the pot or it will create a visible line. (This of course won’t impact your hooking, it just creates less of a smooth transition.) If your arm gets tired lift the wool right out of the dye bath to rest for a moment and then continue. If you are distracted by company or the phone, get a hand basin and hold it under the wool to collect the drips on the way to the counter and lay the Widget and the wool in the sink, draped over the center divider with the Widget in one sink and the wool in the other. Resting the wool will be fine until you can get back to the process.

Pump up and down until most of the dye is absorbed, this will lay down the first colour on the entire piece of wool and it should look graduated, darker on the bottom and lighter on the top. If you want the wool to be darker on top with the first colour by all means pump it up and down right to the top, the first colour won’t impact the end result as much as the other two because it is usually the lightest of the three.

This is the fastest form of dyeing wool; the pumping, up and down action will force the dye into the center of the wool so there won’t be any white core even though you are starting with hot water. Steady movement is what makes the dye grab and sink its teeth into the fabric. Also the faster the movement, the quicker the dye will adhere to the wool.

Do this until the first colour is mostly absorbed and then pour in the second colour. For this example we are creating a fiery look with yellow as the base and orange as the medium level and then red as the last infusion.

Hold the wool over the pot while you pour in all of the Orange dye. You don’t really have to stir, just start pumping the wool up and down and it will quickly blend and start the absorption of the second colour. Keep the bottom third of the wool in constant motion and slowly graduate up to the middle. For this particular dip dyed effect you want the end result colours to show yellow to light orange in the first third or top, medium orange to orangey red in the middle and then a deep version of all three colours in the bottom third. When most of the dye is absorbed you can actually dip it right up to the top to tone down the yellow with a bit of the residual orange. This is personal choice.

Once the orange is mostly or completely absorbed add the red dye and repeat. Remember the colour of the wool is always darker when it is wet.

Measuring wool for dip dyeing:

You will need to calculate the length of the wool to match the item you are dyeing it for.   If you are planning to hook for an item such as a leaf that is about three inches long you would make sure the wool length is four times that, 12 inches long. If doing larger items measure the wool accordingly keeping in mind there are limitations. Putting the pot on the floor will allow fairly long pieces to be dip dyed after that you will be up and down a ladder!

Dip dyeing can be done just as effectively with a single colour to use in place of a 6, 8 or 12 value graduated swatch. It is a much smoother transition from light to dark then you get from the half cup replacement way of dyeing. For the more dramatic look you would use two, three or more colours.

After you have achieved the look you want, remove the wool from the Widget and lay it in a pan lined with paper towel.   If the wool is longer than the pan, fold the wool over and put paper towel between the layers so there won’t be any transference of colour. Cover with foil and bake in a 250* oven for ½ hour to firmly set. You can layer several different dip dyes as long as you use paper towel in-between them to keep the colours from mixing.

Tips: Clean and dry the Wool Widget after use, especially the hooks as the vinegar is acidic and will rust them. If in time the they discolour and stain the wool, use fingernail polish to coat them and just reapply every now and then.

As long as the most of the dye is absorbed by the wool you can sit your Widget on top of the water and it will not sink.   Too much dye remaining will darken the top part of the wool that was meant to be lighter.

Over time the acidity of the vinegar and the submerging in hot water might wear away the finish of your Widget but that will not impact its use. Hardwood does not absorb colour easily and what does show generally won’t stain your wool. You can reapply a coat of varnish if you wish.

*You don’t have to use these little plastic pieces as the wool should stay on. If you get a bit too rambunctious with your dipping the wool might pop off one of the hooks but just slip it back on. Hold the wool level at all times as tipping it is what will push the wool up and off one of the hooks!

Majic Yellow, Orange & Red

Pushing the wool down over the hooks.

Ready to roll!

The pumping action has begun.

Starting to lower to dye top third.

The dye bath is almost clear.

Lowering to darken the top a bit.

Letting it rest for a moment.

Adding the orange.

Pumping up and down with orange.

Pumping up and down with red.

Finished wool in the sink.

Add more paper towel and fold over top half.

Cover with tin foil and put in 250* for 1/2 hour.

The Wool Widget.

Lay bottom part flat on paper towel.

Top half folded.

Wool spun dry and twisted to show the variance of colour from yellow to orangey red. Gorgeous for flowers, sunsets and fire.

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Celtic Snowflake rug by Adena Clark

5/25/2013

A perfect sized rug for the floor!

Adena Clark came into the shop back in March and fell in loved with our new snowflake Celtic pillow topper and asked if it could be made into a larger rug. So I added six of the knots with borders to her specification and she was excited to get started.

She finished up the first of March but said it took longer that normal because she was busy transcribing at the legislature. Now that is behind her she is going to hook up a storm and has started another one of my patterns called Tri Relaxing and is going gang busters.

For the Celtic knots Shane dyed her Antique Gold three value, a light and medium over solid wools and then the darkest value over herringbone. The colour palette is simple and uncomplicated but the overall look is Midas rich; a lovely monochromatic balance of solid and textured wools.

The simple background of Dorr natural frames each knot beautifully. The palette is dramatic but simple; boasting only five different colours. The herringbone outline for each knot. The light and medium for the core of the knots. The natural Dorr for the background. The herringbone for the background that makes up the square. More of the medium gold for the borders surrounding each square. And last but not least, the yellowy green plaid outer border.

Adena mixed up the knots and intertwining hexagon by making three with the lighter gold in the center and then the other three with opposite placement of the medium gold.   You may not pinpoint that without looking closer but the effect creates a bit more drama than having them all mirror images.

She hooked in a #6 cut with all new wools. The yellowy green plaid for the outside border was a new wool in her stash and worked perfectly with the knot.

TIP: Outer borders are genuinely more effective in darker colours so the rug appears to sit on the floor flatly; the darker colour weight the rug to the floor. Rugs with lighter borders tend to appear curled up on the edges.   Also, it is pleasing to the eye to go from lighter and medium centers to a darker edge or border and is the reason why we tend to gravitate toward that combination even if we aren't consciously thinking in those terms.

What a lovely rug for any home. The small picture to the right is the original pillow topper I hooked that inspired Adena to request a larger rug with these elements.

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A bit of exciting news.....

5/24/2013

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The Charnel House, painted by Pablo Picasso between February and May, 1945, and perhaps his most disturbing painting. Coincidentally (there's that word again) my book is called "The Charnel" and hubby found this painting thinking it would make an interested book jacket. A Charnel is a place where bones are, where bodies are buried.

What's up with this sticky weather? First it rains forever and then leads this pathetic humidity parade down the street! I'm terrible in the heat...I wilt and the hair sticking to my head compresses my brain which causes incessant whining. For everyone's sake let this be a freak, short period of madness and be gone quickly. I know it will happen later, it always does, we have at least two weeks of egg boiling temperatures and then back to normal.   I'm prepared for this and will meet it head on with my air conditioning and dehumidifier but this early?....the end of May? What's up with that?

I passed up a free trip to Singapore because of 32* temperatures with 100% humidity.   My aunt was willing to play for my plane ticket and told me not to worry the because the car and house was air conditioned but I was more concerned about that thirty second run to the car. I 'd be a lather of sweat and as whiny as an out of tune violin. Singapore would be the very last place on this planet that I would visit, well that and the rain forest. Ask hubby, it wouldn't have been pretty. I panic in the heat and my mood swings from ordinarily pleasant to hide the sharp objects. Possibly in a previous life, if such a thing exists, I was suffocated in a small confined space, maybe burned at the stake or squashed under a door covered in rocks in Salem.......

It isn't that I'm claustrophobic. I just can't tolerate inhaling hot air and having the stickiness of humidity on my face, my pores unable to breathe, like a veil or amniotic sack. Maybe it all goes back to the time when they tied my mother's legs together to keep me from being born and I was trapped in the birth canal until blue? Or maybe as a small child, playtime went awry and someone trapped me under a duvet or something. Anyway, it ain't pretty cause I'd push old ladies and babies to the ground to get to cool air. So that's my curse. If anyone hates me out there and would like to see me tortured, take me on a tropical holiday!

So my neurosis aside, I have a bit of exciting news....at least I think it is. I marvel how sometimes out of the blue things pop up unexpectedly as if it was part of a big plan. Coincidence? Maybe....but sometimes it's as if your life is mapped out step by step and you just follow it until you get to the landing. So something opportune happened and I would like to share it.

By chance, last December, a man and his girlfriend walked into the shop because the window caught their interest. They didn’t know anything about rug hooking and had a good look around, asked a few questions and seemed interested in the process but didn’t plan to take it up as a hobby.   They were just a lovely young couple exploring Mahone Bay. Then the man turned around and written across his jacket were two words that grabbed my eye and set my pulse racing. "Forensic Science".

With bated breath I asked if he was a Forensic Scientist. He said yes and I just about swooned. He was a tall, handsome, cool drink of water but my attraction wasn’t for him as a man, I was interested in his profession.   All I could think was, how lucky, he was working in a field I have wanted to explore my entire life. If I hadn’t been married so young I would be a pathologist now, spending my days with the newly departed answering the questions of their demise.

I’ve been interested in dead bodies my entire life. As far back as five years old I was fascinated with death and it all began with the assassination of President Kennedy. I remember the very second that changed my life forever, when my mother hustled me from the room just before his flag draped casket came into focus on the TV screen. Her intent was pure, she thought she was protecting me from nightmares but all it did was make my imagination sore with every bit of darkness that had ever crossed my path; skulls, ghosts and goblins, worms, bats and Halloween frights. The obsession was born.

So Mr. Forensic and I chatted away about this and that, how TV shows are poorly done and flawed. Most may not be aware of little inconsistencies but I’ve been collecting tidbits for years and notice when something is off. I also see mistakes in editing, a mole will start in one spot and end in another, a shot of a dead body will move position from frame to frame, chemicals are mispronounced and misused. I call these turnoffs. Once I watch a show riddled with errors, it spoils the experience for me. For all the money they spend on production you would think they would have researchers and editors that pick up on these things, pay some attention to the details.

So we chatted some more and I told him I had always wanted to be a pathologist but at this point in my life I was happy to end it as a hooker….rug, that is. So then I casually mentioned that my interest in death and murder had manifested into a novel that I’ve been working on for the past year. He was keenly interested in the book and told me his department would endorse it when I finished, gave me his card and left. Apparently they like to endorse local authors and my novel fit their directive. I asked what fiction could offer those who deal in fact and he said to solve crimes one has to put themselves in a killers shoes, think as they think, so my novel being based on the perspective on a killer would fit nicely.

I wasn’t quite sure what endorsing my book meant but pinned the card to my bulletin board and didn’t give it another thought until a few weeks ago when he emailed me to ask about the book’s progress and that he would like me to present my novel to Saint Mary’s University Forensic Society’s in February.   Holy crap! Is this like a dream come true? And then holy crap, I’ve got to get a move on!

I’m half way through the book and if I put a hustle on I can finish in time and self-publish before the deadline. I’ve been floundering for months as I had initially wanted to be done for last Christmas. The new website and blog writing has taken a bit of time away from the book but now I am ready to get back at it full force. I have an editor on board to help and feel it isn’t unrealistic to have it finished by the end of this year. So I have to balance the book, my shop coming into the busiest time of year and try to scrape out some semblance of a personal life over the next couple of months.   I can’t pass up this opportunity so I’m determined to make it work and I’m very excited to see what the experts will say about the non-traditional ways I bump people off.

I don’t profess to know where this stuff is coming from but let's say I have a very active imagination. For some reason, and it might be because I’ve read and watched so many murder plotted shows and books, that it’s second nature?   I started with Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys mysteries, graduated to Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple and Poirot and then over the years devoured every murder novel and whodunnit I could get my hands on.

The book began one morning with a trip to the bathroom when a thought balloon said to me, you should write a book about a serial killer. Weird…I thought, where did that come from?.....but I bought a few journals and started jotting down ideas and within a month I had the story outline. Now comes the real commitment of filling in between all those rough outlines to make a complete story. The real work!

I’m telling you for two reasons. One, divulging this will make me stay on point because now people know and I don’t want egg on my face if I procrastinate.   Second, every now and then I might skip a blog day if I’ve been up all night writing on the book. I think I can balance the two nicely, get out my super woman cape and shake out the wrinkles.   If, in this race against time, I can’t pull it all together the Society isn’t going anywhere and there will be other semesters, but it would be nice to complete the first book and move on. This novel already has a sequel mapped out which I hope will turn into a trilogy….so I’ll be knee deep in murder for a bit.

So wish me luck. I’ll need it. If anyone could arrange for the day to have one or two more hours tacked on it would be greatly appreciated. I can feel a big ole case of insomnia coming up but who needs sleep anyway?

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Rugs inspired by children's art......

5/23/2013

WHAT ARE GRANDMAS FOR?
Grandmas are for stories about things of long ago.
Grandmas are for caring about all the things you know.
Grandmas are for rocking you and singing you to sleep.
Grandmas are for giving you nice memories to keep.
Grandmas are for knowing all the things you're dreaming of.
But, most of all, Grandmas are for love.
Author Unknown

Another masterpiece finished.

What lucky girls to have a grandma who hooks amazing works of memory art; heirlooms to treasure for a lifetime.

Grammy Beck said she would hook her twin grandchildren both a rug if they drew pictures so Emma did the flower part of the design and Bailey made the geometric key tile incorporated along the border. Their artwork together with Linda Ruth's classy style inspired this beautiful floor runner. This is the first of two rugs that Grammy will complete and present to the girls when they are older.

Linda Ruth used the 1st part of the formula Red Maple from one of our dye books SkyBluePink With A Green Smell over an orange and white plaid to dull it down. She also over-dyed all of the other found wools and cashmere mixes for the inside squares.

Emma had drawn more flowers so they will be featured in the second rug. The girls turn 12 today, May 23rd. Happy Birthday!

As I've joked before, Linda Ruth is the queen of straight line hooking. She also doesn't work from a pattern, lays down a few rows and designs as she goes...where she'll stops no one knows!

Emma and Bailey's inspirational artwork.

The finished rug! Oh my.....how wonderful this beautiful rug looks in my shop, especially in front of the red desk.

Linda Ruth at one of our hook-ins working on the outer borders. You can see that there are no lines drawn. She will just pick a colour and start hooking, if she likes where it's heading it stays, if not she rethinks the colours and continues to build.

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Beginning Class last Sunday....

5/22/2013

Hard at work. All of these women were instant pros !

This past Sunday was another beginning class at the studio.   A delightful group of four women, one of whom had hooked a rug before, two had been casually dabbling and one almost complete novice except for a childhood experience with her grandmother.

The newbie was my son's girlfriend Ashley who caught on quickly and I learned later that she had hooked at her grandmother's knee. Shane drew up four coasters, each with a fancy anchor and she hooked these in red and the background with a luscious dark navy plaid. It doesn't get more nautical than that. As far as boyfriends go, a rug hooker couldn't ask for a better match. A personal dyer at her disposal and a beau with a key to the wool palace.

Emily, one of the women brought in a number of items her grandmother had handcrafted and all of her hoops and hooks. I see our grannies liked to collect hooks just like we do today. There must have been a dozen of various shapes and sizes. Emily's enthusiasm was thrilling a mirror image of my own beginnings. This wasn't her first piece as she had purchased a kit a while ago and struggled with the terrible quality wools that shredded in her hand even before it hit the backing. She deserved a medal for her effort and quite frankly I was amazed she even wanted to continue.   She said she had no idea that hooking could be so easy when using top quality wools that don't shred or fall apart and now she looks ahead with smooth sailing.   She designed a sweet little mosaic piece for the class and used her grandmother's tools. In her stash of hoops was a neat gadget stamped "Made In England" for attaching a hoop to a table. I'm sorry I didn't take a picture as it was a very interesting design that would hold a hoop to the table. Crafted out of wood, it had a barrel shape that cork screwed to the table with a vertical piece that had a slit for the hoop to rest in with a tightening screw to hold the hoop in place.

The day went quickly and all four students had a natural knack for hooking so I just hovered around telling stories and giving tips for making the work go faster and easier. All in all it was a lovely day with new friends made and four more hookers joining the fiber arts fold.

Linnell changing from the hoop she started on to the gripper frame to see what suits best. She is hooking Mary Doig's Three Churches from a kit.

Emily holding her grandmother's bag to show it's size. This would have also made a fantastic purse, all it needs is a shoulder strap.

Emily's grandmother's little purselike bag that held all her hooks and scissors. It was well made with a zipper top. So sweet, it should be a future workshop! Very nice floral design and leaves.

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That Herbert....he's a cocky fella.......

5/21/2013

Sandy holding up Herbert, a rather proud cock-of-the-walk.

Sandy Bruce brought by a little hooked piece that she purchased for a a bit of show and tell. She said she normally doesn't buy finished pieces, being a hooker herself, but this guy caught her fancy. It was stuck in the window at Spruce Top and he needed a good home.

The piece is called Herbert and was hooked by Sandra Stewart of New Brunswick. Sandy said she had the perfect perch over her mantel. Every time she walks by this colourful fella she smiles. That's what is so great about fiber art or art in general, some pieces just perpetuate a smile from the inside out.

Herbert is adorned with lots of different fibers to make him the showy cock-of-the-walk a rooster can be. He's proud and bold as he struts around the barnyard look for a few chics. Using verel means you don't have to hook any background so the rooster, fence and flowers jump off the backing to catch your eye. This guy is definitely preened for love...so look-out Henny Penny!

A new colour palette for an old design.

"Lions in a Desert Scene" Done almost with monochromatic colouring this antique design will be just as lovely with its new coat of colours.

Lions in a Desert Scene. This nineteenth-century rug is based, very remotely on a Frost pattern which included only the lion. The fantastic setting of red palm trees proves that Frost patterns were not inhibiting to the imaginative.

A rug made from pattern was a part of Sandy's family's past. She walked on it as a young girl and now she wants to revisit the design and make new memories by hooking the pattern with a brighter palette. She asked me to colour plan and assemble all the wool so she can take it back to Ontario to hook. Sandy usually does her own dyeing but at this stage in her life she said she would just rather just buy the wool and get right down to the hooking. I can't wait to see the finished piece. I'll keep you posted.

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My lovely bag lady.....

5/20/2013

Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows,
Everything that's wonderful is sure to come your way
When you hook each day......

Puffins on the rocks with stylized waves and a paisley sky.

I asked Lynn Rodgers if she minds my calling her a bag lady and she said no, other people have apparently done the same, but I sometimes wonder if I don't go too far. She's so pretty, petite and feminine that the bag lady moniker doesn't fit but I can promise it's said as a term of endearment.

I call Lynn this because she always comes into the shop on a Saturday with one of my recycled kraft bags filled with her latest projects. The bag is ancient as I haven't stocked them for some time and it's more wrinkled than a dehydrated prune. I recently ordered new kraft paper bags in navy and red so I gave her a new one for the spring and summer season to tout her rugs in style!

Truthfully I love the fact that she recycles the bags.....that was the reason I choose them. There's way too much plastic in the world so I'm trying to do my part. Over the past year I was using the TShirt bags but it always made me cringe and maybe they're cheap but they certainly aren't cheerful. Sometimes you have to spend a bit of money for the look you want to represent. We've just had a wonderful gold foil, stick on label designed that should soon arrive...our signature brand on the bag for a bit of classy, boutique style for the shop.

Not that I have to point it out...you have eyes.....Lynn loves colour in her rugs! You never know what to expect as she pulls her pieces out of the bag but I'll tell you this, I am always delighted with her show and tell and totally smitten with her skies as they are usually fantastically wild, like sunshine, lollipops and rainbows. Lynn makes me want to step outside the box a bit but I'm dealing with a pretty long stick somewhere so it's difficult to maneuver.

Funky shapes and colours give this piece a high degree of whimsey.

Lynn likes all things Newfoundland. From Puffins to funky Jelly Bean Row houses she enjoys bringing whimsey to the rock. She definitely has style. When she comes in to buy wool I sort of step back and let her do her thing. I can make suggestions but she knows what she wants and I'm so far off that road with a flat, it's best to stay in the ditch while she drives by!

Lynn sells her pieces on Etsy and her page is called Liveartist if you'd like to check out more of her rugs. If you would like a commission she can be reached at [email protected]

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Victoria Day Special!!!!!

5/18/2013

Free shipping on all mail orders
Monday May 20th!
Call our toll free line 1-855-624-0370!!

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The apple doesn't fall far from the tree!

5/18/2013

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Anne Holmes has been hooking with our Wednesday group for as far back as I can remember. She's a delight and there's always a lot of laughs when we get together. Anne hooks quickly and is very prolific so she is able to buzz from one rug to another. There must be something in the water around these parts because most of the hookers I hang with are fast!   Anne is comfortable with either yarn or wool fabric depending on the detail of the patterns. Her hooking is very exacting, each loop equal to all its brothers and sisters coming as close to perfection as one can get!

Her daughter, Angela Holmes took up the craft two years ago and seems to be a chip off the ole block, the apple not falling too far from the tree!!   Her latest project is a gift for her cousins little boy who lives in Saskatchewan. The nursery was decorated with owls and birds and she wanted something to blend with the theme. She found inspiration on the internet and used some of these elements to come up with this clever design. The rug took a month to complete and was done in a #6 cut.

Momma dyed almost all the wool with the exception of the abrashed ecru for the background and antique red for the border.   Anne took a dye class with me a few years ago and has been dyeing for her projects ever since. Anne says her stash has taken a few hits since her daughter took up the craft but wool is for sharing and when you have kids....well we all know what that's like! What's yours is theirs.......

Momma received the privilege of whipping the rug and she finished it at our Wednesday evening hook-in this past week. I always keep a supply of dyed antique red yarn in the shop for a blended custom look when using the Dorr Antique Red. Matching the whipping yarn with the border of any rug is a nice touch, giving it a custom finish.

Angela had labels machine embroidered on the rug binding to send a message of love and also to sign and date the rug. What a clever way to personalize a gift and it is so elegant and professional looking.

Hooking now complete Anne brought the rug in for the whipping yarn and to measure for cording and rug binding. Here she is holding up her daughter's rug for show and tell. Sweet design and even sweeter sentiment as a gift to a little boy!

Nolan, spelled out in little ornaments hanging from the bough of a tree. Like rock a bye baby in the tree top, these ornaments will rock.

Who?

What a clever and crafty way to sign your rugs. This machine embroidery will last the rug's lifetime. For those who don't like hooking their initials on the front,...perfect!

And even more perfect, to leave a message of love! As if sending a card along for a forever memory!

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Do we really ever know.......can we be sure?

5/17/2013

6 Comments

I recently watched a video posted on Boots and Saddles Therapeutic Facebook page about reaching a person considered buried deep in dementia that was stimulated into active communication. The video was as poignant as it gets.

I was effected on many levels, mostly for the state the body can succumb too but also the way we view people we don't have any way of understanding. I had an experience when I was working as a PCW (Personal care worker) that always stuck with me. I truly believed I was experiencing a magical moment although I was told to believe in coincidence. Deep down I knew they were wrong, and since viewing this video I feel vindicated that it was a truly special moment.

At the nursing home where I worked, they told the new trainees very little about the resident’s afflictions so I'm not sure what this woman had, but her body was frozen rock solid from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She was sort of twisted in a strange angle as if lying on her side. She obviously had problems to begin with but once bed ridden, she atrophied into a human stick and was kept alive through intravenous means. Basically her care amounted to constant rotation to stave off bed sores and a daily sponge bath.   Still in training, I was an acting assistant to the nurses and more experienced PCW's.

I don’t profess to know more than medical professionals, but I will admit to being a bit disturbed when the care givers talked in front of the woman about their lives, what they did over the weekend, parties, drinking, sexual escapades, swearing, you name it, conversations that were not appropriate in front of a patient.   Washing someone’s naked body is very intimate and I felt uncomfortable as it was. They were caring for a living human being while treating her with no more respect than washing a chicken at the kitchen sink.   I questioned the behavior and was told that she could not hear, see, speak or think.  Basically they were washing a cadaver with a heartbeat.

Now, maybe I was just being emotional, but I couldn’t accept that there was nothing going on inside this poor woman. There had to be some brain function or her heart would cease to beat, her lungs cease to breathe. Something was keeping her clock ticking. It just didn’t seem fair or make sense that she was on auto pilot. Surely there had to be something going on in there to man the controls?

I believe in coincidence to a certain degree until logic starts to kick in to shake that theory up a bit. What if modern medicine was wrong? What if there was a part of this woman locked deep inside her brain?   Maybe she could hear those silly women bantering back and forth, being callous and disrespectful.   What if?…….was all I could think and think I did...I mulled over it for weeks.

So one day due to short staffing they sent me into the woman's room to give her a sponge bath and check for hot spots. Keeping bed sores at bay is a full time occupation in a nursing home and once one sprouts it’s a damn sight harder to reverse than preventing them in the first place. On my own, I was uncomfortable washing her, she looked so frail I worried I would be too rough or do something wrong. I kept looking into her eyes for a spark of awareness and found none. My nervousness manifested into rambling speech so I flapped my jaws about the weather, the price of gas and any tidbit that popped into my head that might be of interest to someone void of a life outside the room.

I was just about finished when the first snow of winter began to fall like confetti outside the window. Big flakes fluttered to the earth and quickly transformed the grass to a blanket of white. I started talking about the snow, how beautiful it was, how it would be fun to catch one on my tongue. I said I wished that she could see the snow. Then I told her Christmas would soon be here and how I remember sleigh coasting down our hill and building snowmen when I was a young girl. I even started to hum an off-tuned “White Christmas”.

I looked over at the woman’s face. There was a big tear streaking down her cheek. I brushed it away and another replaced it. So I kept humming and talking. Telling her of my childhood and all the fun I had in winter, skating on the pond behind the house and building snow forts. The tears kept flowing. I kept gently wiping them away and talking in a soft voice. I felt as if I was witnessing a miracle.  The bath was now over and I brushed her hair. It was odd, stuck off in all directions and cropped without care of style, a veritable rat’s nest.   I continued to talk to her about my plans for the holidays. She continued to cry.

And then my time with her was up. A nurse came in to see what was taking so long and I excitedly told her that the woman could hear what I said.   I was told no, that it was impossible. I relayed what happened but I was told that it was just a coincidence. I asked if the woman had ever cried before and the answer was no, but that it was just an involuntary reaction. I never believed it for a second.   Something in me said she had communicated in the only way she could. She let me know there was still a person inside the frozen shell. Maybe that was the first time in years anyone talked to her instead of over her.

Unfortunately they never let me care for her again. I was reprimanded for being a trouble maker because I kept insisting the woman heard me. Now I’m not a member of the medical profession so any argument I may have didn’t have a leg to stand on and I hadn’t walked in her shoes either, no one had, so what do we really know? We weren’t supposed to get close to the residents, just do the work and move on, everything was on a time allowance and holding the hand of someone crying, involuntary or voluntary didn’t fit the schedule.

The woman died shortly after. I went to the funeral home to pay my last respects but couldn’t find her in any of the rooms. I asked the director and he said she was there…that I had seen her.   No way I thought. The only woman on display was beautiful, with soft features and perfectly coiffed curly hair and make-up.   But it was her and I was astounded. After death her body must have relaxed or else the funeral director worked magic. Her face was soft and lovely, no sign of the disease that solidified her features. I said my private goodbye.

And one more quick story of how a small dose of caring made a difference. I grew very fond of one of the male residents who was riddled with bone cancer. Moving him was precarious as one wrong move, a simple slip and his limbs could snap in two.  He was chalky inside, brittle and frail with little time left on this mortal coil. I was never privy to his daily maintenance but one day I was asked to assist in moving him to his other side and once in the room, I was now in his life.

I was like an emotional virus carrier. Every where I went I spread it around. I was warned many times to keep my emotions in check, stop visiting with the residents and not take the job home with me. Stop staying after hours to chat and hold hands as the residents would demand more and more of my time. I was told it would never be enough. Their loneliness was palpable, empty vessels starved to be filled. Some of them had no family visits or phone calls, they were left there to die, abandoned and alone. Quite frankly I couldn’t see any harm in. My choice, my time. I know now it was to protect the residents from being hurt if I grew tired of them, got fired, quit or god forbid died, but I was young…nothing made sense except the way I felt.   I was always an advocate for the underdog so I wondered, where did the wants and needs of these hollow people come in to play? They were like houses, you can scrape and paint the outside but if you don’t pay attention to the inside the house can still fall to ruins. And maybe they were there waiting to die but didn't they deserve more than green, pureed food and a diaper? Isn't it everyone's given right to be happy?

So I would sneak into the man’s room to chat every break or chance I had. He called me “That girl” as he could never remember my name. He’d say, “there's that girl!" as if he had been waiting for me since the minute I left. Within a few days of visiting with him, he started perking up a bit and asked for things. First came the TV, he was no longer willing to wait around to die in quiet. He wanted noise in his life and not just the clatter of meal trays from the hallway. He had always loved The Price is Right and Bob Barker saying “Come on down!”. Then he wanted to hear music, something to shorten the long arduous hours he lay there. He asked for sunglasses so the blinds could be opened so he could see outside. Then he wanted ice cream, his favorite all-time dessert. He had no dietary restrictions and at his stage of cancer it was like a meal from the wish foundation. He wanted to share with me and and we sat licking the strawberry cream from plastic spoons, moaning how good it was.

Now I knew things weren’t great with him, considering he would sometimes drink out of his urinal but there were lucid moments no one could deny. Smiling, such an easy thing to do, takes so little effort but he hadn’t done it for years, had no reason too. But now he beamed from ear to ear when he saw me enter the room. You know the saying, his eyes lit up? Well that was exactly what happened. It was like a light being switched on, I still tear up thinking about it.

I don’t know exactly what I represented to him. A friend? Maybe he was sweet on me? But it didn’t really matter; I was someone who paid him a bit of attention, made him feel like he was worth more than a bed bath and a hair comb. Even though his days were numbered he now had a reason to wake in the morning and could smile through the pain. No family ever came to visit, I asked,   so he lived for glimpses of me. It was a pretty potent drug knowing I had the power that could make a dying man want to enjoy the bit of time that remained and a powerful lesson in the need for human contact, human touch. I was warned once again that I had started something so I had better take it to the end but that went without saying. I truly cared for him and would be there every day, as long as he needed me.

And then one morning I arrived early to say hi before my shift. The bed sheets were stripped and the window opened to air out the room. He had died in the night, all alone; with no one there to hold his hand…all I could hope was that the morphine didn’t allow any pain. In a way I was relieved for him, his pain was now over and as I stood in the doorway, heart breaking I thought I heard him say, “There’s that girl………”

6 Comments

Rubbing elbows with a hooking icon!

5/16/2013

Beautiful photograph, the camera loves this woman!

What an exciting Saturday at the shop! No one showed up for the hook-in but the front door was swinging off the hinges as rug hookers dropped in with show and tell delights. I’ll blog about some of them separately in the next few days.

The cherry on the sundae was a visit from Michele Micarelli.   Fresh from teaching at the Nova Scotia rug school, she traveled to Mahone Bay to visit a new friend, our very own Charlene Scott, who took the dye class at school this year. They were making the rounds, popped into the shop for coffee and then headed to Mary's house for a visit and stronger libation.   Mary took a class with Michele and I’ll be posting her project as soon as I get to see it! Shelley was at the hook-in last evening so we saw what she was working on from the class, a fabulous portrait of her dog that I will share at a later time. It's a stunner!

I’ve never officially met Michele but our paths have crossed by way of ordering supplies from her and Facebook.   I’ve seen her marvelous body of work which speaks volumes for her talent and now that I know she has a wicked sense of humour, I can tell she must be a phenomenal teacher.   I know my friend Mary really enjoys her classes and this was her second year under her tutelage.   I can’t wait to see what Mary is working on as she is no slouch in the creativity department so the two of them together will have hit another home run…remember the Mona Lisa stocking of last year?

Michele and I posed for the picture below so I could say I rubbed elbows with a hooking great. She was recently honoured with the title of Rug Hooker of the Year in the US by the North American Rug Hooking Museum.  For those of you unfamiliar with Michele I poached her profile from her site for a quick outline and if you would like to read more, click the link below.

Michele Micarelli is a certified rug hooking teacher whose main objective is to unleash creativity.

The classes she teaches are full of storytelling, imagination exercises, and laughter. She has been a rug hooker since 1991 and prefers using 4 and 5 cut wool and linen for lots of detail.

Michele is also a beader, a doll maker, and a Sailor’s Valentine Artist . She started rug hooking because of her childhood memories of rugs her Father hooked. Her other loves are her family, painting, collecting, and gardening.

Michele has proudly served on the A.T.H.A. Region 1 board of directors for ten years, is past President of the Northern McGown Teacher’s Workshop and is a judge of Craft’s Adventure in New England.

Michele is proud to have had her rugs appear in several editions of The Celebration of Rug Hooking as well as having been a judge in Celebration 13. Michele was honored artist at the Green Mountain Shelburne Museum “Strong Women” show and winner of The Silver Hook Award at The Newtown Rug Show 2008 for her dedication and contribution to rug hooking.

http://www.michelemicarelli.com/

Rubbing elbows, literally and figuratively.

Charlene and Michele

One of Michele's pieces "Afternoon Delight" Size 38”x36” Designed by Michele Micarelli & Ralph Caparulo. Hooked by Michele Micarelli, 2002.

2 Comments

How much is that doggie in the window.......?

5/15/2013

4 Comments

How much is that doggie in the window, the one with the waggly tail,
how much is that doggie in the window, I do hope that doggie's for sale.....................

Hooked by Shelley Withers 39" x 30"

The biggest regret I've had in this business is trusting the mail with a precious rug that I sold to a customer in New Brunswick.

In thirteen years of lugging parcels to the post office, they have only misplaced one, so why the universe decides to pluck a $1200.00 rug out of the system and have it disappear into thin air, I'm not sure. Shit happens yes, but really....why not a lost pattern or a dye book? Something replaceable without a one of a kind status! Something blah and lack luster. Not my beautiful, special doggie rug!!!!!!!

I was sick for weeks over the ordeal. I found out that it got delivered to the door of the man who bought it and then someone stole it off the porch. The rug was supposed to go to his post office so he would receive a card in his box like any normal parcel. Through a calamity of errors the snowball in hell syndrome took on a life of its own and ended in the sad loss of this pattern hooked by my friend Shelley Withers...the very first one ever! Priceless and irreplaceable!!!

Back when I started the business I couldn't fill the walls with rugs fast enough to fit the vision I had for the shop. I wanted the place to have the wow factor and bare walls fell short of my dream. So I provided patterns to friends and they hooked them up and then I bought the rug from them.   It was win win for all of us. I got the eye candy needed to decorate the shop and they had a guaranteed sale.

Previous to the disappearance, over a three year period, a man came into the shop and always admired the rug called "How Much Is That Doggie.....?" He relentlessly pestered me to sell it and back then I had no interest in letting my rugs go. They served the shop well for inspiration and sold the pattern off the rack and the occasional kit, so to a shop owner a finish rug can be more valuable as a display item than to sell it.

But all patterns have a season, come into vogue and then fade into the background and once that happens the rug has outlived its purpose to generate revenue, so I put a price tag on it. The next time the man came in giving us the whine and dance on how much he loved the rug we told him it was his lucky day as it was now for sale. After years of hearing how much he loved the piece it was now within his grasp so I thought it strange that he decided to buy a smaller, different rug instead. But, man's prerogative, he was entitled to change his mind.

The man goes home and phones the shop to say that he would like the Dog rug after all and for us to mail it to him. I'd never done that before and was nervous but considering the fantastic history of successful deliveries through the postal system for my customers, I decided the risk was low. I told the man that I would send the rug but as soon as it left my hands I would no longer be responsible for it and he said that would be fine. So I wrapped it up and took it to the post office. As the parcel was processed I asked if I should have a signature when it arrived and they told me that it really meant nothing as anyone could sign for it and it was going to a post office which was secure, so I took their advice and sent it without. That was mistake #1. So it arrives in the New Brunswick postal department and for some reason they send it out to the man's house. Mistake #2. The driver arrives, the man isn't home so he leaves the $1200 package on the porch.   Mistake #3. And now like mighty Casey, we're out! There was no requirement for a signature so apparently they can leave mail on a door step.

The man phones in a few days wondering where his rug is, that was supposed to be there within two days. I was instantly worried. I phoned the post office to check the tracking number and was told that the rug had been delivered.   The driver was contacted and he said he dropped the rug on the porch at the man's address and left. They did a small investigation and came to the conclusion that the rug was stolen and said I could put in a claim. The man now wanted his money back and because it had originated from my shop, I was responsible to deal with the post office and do all the paperwork. So much for it being out of my hands. After several months of back and forth, they cut a cheque to me for the insured amount less $100.00 for handling fees. I lost my precious rug and money! I was sick!!!

Everyone I told the story too immediately suspected the man. It all seemed just too coincidental and I'll admit, a part of me was suspicious. If he did do it, got home and realized the rug was lying there without proof he'd received it, he may have realized he could have his cake and eat it too. Get the beloved rug and the money. He did tell me that he bought a quilt from Suttles & Seawinds by phone and they shipped it to his house just the day before and that didn't require a signature. Maybe it was planned? I hope this isn't true, I hate to think anyone could be so dishonest but someone does have it, who is the only question.   The other suspect would be the mail driver, seeing an opportunity and taking advantage, but they are bonded and reliable, at least we need to think that! I can only surmise what might have happened....I don't have any proof to back it up but I do know one thing....the rug is gone!

I spent a lot of time on EBay and Kijiji looking for the rug, hoping that whoever had it was trying to sell it. What are the chances a rug lover stumbled up on the porch at that very moment and saw an opportunity to add a rug to their collection? And, an average Joe wouldn't appreciate the work and beauty of a hand hooked rug but they might see dollar signs so I hoped it would be for sale somewhere.    The post office puts a sticker on parcels that declares the value so anyone seeing it knows immediately what is in the package and what it's worth. An expensive, hand hooked rug was a temptation someone couldn't resist.

The lesson learned from this experience? I will never send another rug out in my name. The purchaser will have to arrange for a pick-up with a courier of their choice. After the sale and the rug leaves my hands I am no longer responsible. If anything should happened they have to do the paper work and go after their money.   So for all of you who sell rugs, protect yourself by asking the buyer to arrange for a courier service.   The insured value isn't necessarily what you will get back if the parcel goes astray.

You ARE seeing double! This one was hooked by Eileen Morrison

I walked into the shop one day and there was my precious doggie rug! Well, not exactly. This one was hooked by Eileen Morrison but it is so close you have to scrutinize it to see the subtle differences. Eileen hooked the pattern and decided to sell it. I thought the man might be interested considering the rugs are almost identical but he was very vague, said he would stop in some day soon to see it and that was two or more years ago. I've never heard from him again.

4 Comments

Look at Kristy go.....!

5/14/2013

By Guest Blogger Kristy Wagner

A gift for Mother's Day.

I took my first and only rug hooking class in Feb 2013 at Encompassing Designs in Mahone Bay, NS with Christine Little as our Instructor. What a great thing to do on a Sunday afternoon, especially in the winter.

Why Rug Hooking? I like things that are "pretty and useful" and I'd just come off a "dishcloth" knitting marathon and needed a new project. I like to see progress, that was something I thought I'd like about rug hooking. I knew it may be a challenge to complete a rug, they take time to complete, but the fact that I could see it coming together along the way, forgive the pun, that's what "hooked" me. I needed to see what it would look like when it was finished, like a surprise! I also needed to find something I could do at home.

It was a relatively affordable hobby too, about $150 to get everything to start up, then it all depends on your equipment and material - there are ways to keep the cost low. I used a mixture of real wool and yarn wool. The yarn mde it tight like carpet. It's an extremely forgiving hobby, easy to fix mistakes, change colors. If you wanted to take your favorite sweater, pull it apart and hook it into a rug, you could do that.

The day of my class, everyone had their seat cover patterns, I turn up with a giant rug pattern that I designed myself. I figured, just in case this is the only one I ever do, at least I will have designed it. You need a straight edge, pencil, burlap, sharpie and creativity. I looked at images online and I drew out ideas, then put them to burlap.

I got my first one done within two months, just plugging away here and there. Of course I see imperfections, but that's what gives it character. My first rug will be a gift to my mother this Sunday for Mother's Day. I'm really enjoying the hookin'! haha! I've already started on my next one. :)

Thanks again Christine for teaching me how to hook!

The drawing stage, figuring out the design and playing with the details.

The final cut now transferred to the backing.

My current project. Having a lot of fun!

It is always so great to hear from a student after they've gone off on their own. Sometimes you wonder if they're still rug hooking or if they finished their project. A lot of the time they come back to get a critique or finishing instructions but for the ones I never hear from again I often wonder what they are up too, if the passion took hold or if they moved on to other things. Kristy was a prime example. Her enthusiasm and big project made her stand out. I saw me in her. I didn't want to mess around with the small stuff either as I never planned to do it again....look at both of us now!

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Dumpster diving on Mother's Day.....

5/13/2013

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Now I don't flatter myself in thinking I would look this good head down in a dumpster, I might be more inclined to be rubber suited from head to toe. There must be something pretty darn good in that bin to risk breaking one of those pretty red fingernails.   The word that comes to mind when I look at this picture?  "Push."

I found the most fantastic thing in the garbage outside of a shop in town. If I'm honest, it wasn't a dumpster I dove into....it was just some castoffs along the side of the road. I just love those words, DUMPSTER DIVING!  I like the way it sounds, how it rolls off the tongue. It sounds like a fun thing to do, minus the smells, rotten food and the yuck factor.   It's amazing no one has pitched a TV show called Dumpster Diving with Martha or something to that effect.

Big dump day is tomorrow in Mahone Bay. A chance to clear out all the junk one accumulates.   We are crapless at our house, so to speak; we've purged over the last several years until there's nothing left to chuck. Our clan harboured a pretty serious hoarder and there is always that niggling fear that I might be carrying the gene so I go out of my way to purge on a regular basis just to prove I can.  My auntie was just as bad, if not worse, than some you see on television except she limited her collections to the inside of her house so managed to stay under the radar and appear normal. Well, I'll use that term loosely, she had a whole bag of weird tricks, maybe where I get it from.   Witnessing that kind of madness leaves a lasting impression so I go out of my way to throw, give away or burn anything that I haven't used in a five year period. If it's been sitting around that long you can live without it and once it's out of sight you never miss it.

So I was heading to work this evening and there on the lawn of a shop was this fabulous rack. It was raining so we pulled up close and hubby jumped out and threw it in the trunk and we sped away, hopefully unseen.  It's a well made, very nicely appointed display rack. A lazy Susan style (is this politically incorrect?...it's rather offensive to the Susan's of the world)  Anyway, it turns 360 which is perfect for the dye cards I plan to design for individual spot formulas and possibly pots as well.   Cards with a single formula, instructions and a sample of the wool it creates. We have so many new formulas that we can't keep up with books so I thought it might be nice to have individual cards.

It is a bit of a law breaker to pick through another persons garbage and morally repungnant, or that's what I used to think before I became a member of the trash collector's alliance. There's actually a bylaw in town prohibiting it, but it's never enforced probably because it costs the town less for removal. I've always wondered who would do this sort of thing and what they might be looking for. Guess now I know first hand. I know I've thrown out some pretty lame things in the past; real bona fide, absolutely useless garbage and it's all gone by morning. I wonder if those people are hoarders?

So I had a rather strange Mother's Day. My son presented me with a large vase of pink tulips and wonderful card yesterday and we thought we might go out for dinner this evening but I had to work so we postponed it until Monday. I was very bad Saturday evening and stayed up late with friends and watched a movie, Parental Guidance, a funny little thing with Bette Midler and Billy Crystal.    After the movie we chatted until late and after they went home hubby crawled on the sofa and nodded off and I headed for the computer to jot down  a few thoughts for blogs.  The next thing I knew the sun was coming up so I figured it was time for bed. A bad way to start my only day off!

So I slept in until noon, got up and felt like crap, had a coffee and yawned and moaned for the next few hours that I didn't want to leave the house. I lounged around in my jammies and finally made breakfast around 4:30, wonderful muffins and the fact wasn't lost on me that I had to make my own breakfast, but in hubby's defense I'm not his mother.   So by the time I got out of my own way, showered and dressed it was 7:00 pm and running out of time to get the work done that was necessary for a customer to pick up tomorrow.

So I'm at the shop and the tunes are rocking and I'm working at a pace reserved for marathon runners trying to beat the clock and get home before midnight. I love working in the shop late at night, all alone with music so loud it changes the beat of my heart. Music pumps me up and I work like a demon under its influence. If people looked in the window they would have caught me bopping around and singing my heart out, probably heard me through the plate glass windows and through the cracks in the doorjamb. I don't care or I would have been wearing makeup!

Music makes me feel young, the good kind of young, like a teenager. I've always wanted to sing in a band and I've flattered myself into thinking I would be good enough to try.  If I ever get the time I want to take a few singing lessons so I can realize the dream to act in a musical play. I'd even try Karaoke but I'm never anywhere that might happen. Just a few of my bucket list items that need to be scratched off.   I can carry a tune but that doesn't mean anyone would want to listen so a few lessons would help......or at least be told the truth, "Stick to the shower!"

When I listen to rock and roll, the old stuff of my time, it turns me into a wild thing. I just want to run out the door and head to the nearest bar to dance my heart out. I can't imagine my life without music. I would rather loose my sight than my hearing. I also know, can guarantee, that when I'm 80 or 90 I'll be listening to loud music, especially if I'm partially deaf...... I will never be an old fart that can't stand the loud noises of the youth. If I ever say, "turn that down" or "I can't hear myself think sonny", I'll be ready to pack it in. Music moves me more than any other stimulant. Tonight when Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl started playing I swooned.   Maybe it's good I don't go to dances or hang out in bars, the music might make me fast and loose, probably try to make out with the drummer or lead guitar guy.

I'm always up for dances but none of my friends care. No one wants to have that kind of fun anymore. The joints creak and no one can stay up late. Yawning and dancing is like oil and water, it doesn't mix. I guess I'm a 54 year old teenager at heart!   Most think I'm a stick in the mud type but when I get revved up and break loose I'm a force to be reckoned with. If I'm lucky enough to make it to a dance I'm up on the floor for every number, all by myself if need be. I've been called a dancing fool and say "Thanks!"   Gee, the last dance we  attended must be a decade ago, Joe Murphy and Waterstreet Blues band, a zydeco, blues group that played at the Petite Reviere firehall. How sad for me!   I'm really no good at dancing but I love the way music makes me feel and I need to match the beat with gyrating, jittering motion, I couldn't stand still if I wanted too.    If music is playing I'm moving....it's an automatic reflex.   Maybe I need some hip new friends! Young ones with a sense of adventure or older gals young at heart, with working sparkplugs and dancing shoes.

So that was my fabulous mother's day. I suppose it was typical for me, in that it wasn't typical.

5 Comments

Happy Mother's Day everyone!

5/12/2013

True love is taking the wool off your back....to share!

To all the mothers out there, even those
with hairy kids.....

Happy Mother's Day!

From Shane and Christine

Dye roses red
Spot Violet's blue
Hooking's so sweet
Just like ewe too!

0 Comments

A blog for those who can't make the cut.....

5/11/2013

10 Comments

These are a few of the pieces that were torn and thrown down.

There are people who read my blogs and take offense that I tell it like it is.

As a shop owner I've never had a leg to stand on or a  voice to defend my side of any story and now this forum presents a place to level the playing field.

I talk about life in general both personal and professional and add my style of dark humour, a lot of it self deprecating. I write to spread knowledge, to entertain and sometimes do a bit of unloading. The old adage you can't please all of the people all of the time rings true and I'm absolutely fine with that.

Some don't think I'm funny and that's fine. Maybe my sense of humour isn't the flavour your taste buds are comfortable with. Other's complain I write too much...ah well. When I pass on my experiences I hope that it will help others and if that is misconstrued as being insulting that is beyond my control. If people expect me to shut up and eat crow I guess they'll be disappointed but that does not take away from the fact that my shop is one of the best in Canada with a quality product that customers can count on. I'm fiercely proud of this accomplishment and don't appreciate it being muddied so if you don't agree on something, that's okay, but I invite you to come on by and take a walk in my shop owner shoes and then we'll talk.

This next piece is to spread awareness how comments can hurt a business.   I had a not so pleasant confrontation yesterday with a customer who claimed my wool was garbage. Now I take great pride in the quality of my wares so I take that personally, especially when I know news like this gets around faster than a forest fire in a drought.   So yesterday I was upstairs talking to a supplier on the phone when she arrived and started in on my son, telling him the wool she bought in this store was garbage and demanded “Where’s the woman?” Shane came up the stairs with a pleading look in his yes…help!

So I go downstairs and there she is tearing strips apart and throwing them on the table with a face on that would scare a baby. I could see what the problem was two feet away. The wool was a frayed mess with jagged fibers flying off in every direction, made it look like a giant fur ball coughed up by some cat.  I kept my cool and my son said he was impressed that I remained as nice as I did, because the woman would not listen as I tried to explain that it was a result of cutting the wool across the grain. She argued that it had never happened before so it couldn’t be her and she kept taking the strips and pulling them apart in front of me and throwing them down on the table with contempt saying, Look….look…LOOK!  She had whipped herself into a frenzy before she arrived and came in with guns blazing and all I could think was, thank goodness no one else was in the shop.

Then she took out the remaining piece of ¼ yard that she had been cutting on and told me it was basically rotten and threw that on the table with the strips and asked me what I was going to do about it. I picked up the wool and simply folded it in half so she could see how the two edges did not line up. The one she had been cutting on was on a 45 degree angle, a diagonal cut across the entire grain of the wool. There was nothing holding the strips together and you could have torn them apart by blowing on them. She was using a #3 blade, wool slightly thicker than human hair, it is imperative that the wool goes through the blades straight on the grain!

And on top of that, she had been cutting using the entire 1/4 yd piece of wool, not tearing off smaller pieces. A BIG NO NO. If you have more than a 3 inch wide piece of wool it pulls and drags away from the blade as it wants to fall off the edge of the cutter. It is harder to keep the piece going straight through the blade with all the drag created by the weight of the wool.

She still wouldn't believe me. Told me she always cuts like this and there had to be something wrong with the wool. I am supposed to be a bit of an expert on certain things, god knows I’ve cut enough wool to surround the globe several times over but that didn't account for much.

So I took the remaining wool and tore it down into pieces and cut it for her in my Bolivar.   I took a strand of the wool, a perfect cut piece I might add, as I pulled it a bit to see if there was any fraying before I handed it over and asked her to inspect it. You can tell when you go off grain a bit as little bits will poke up when you stretch the wool ends apart. I watched her pull on the strand that would not break and she looked total amazed, swqitched gears and then proceeded to blame the problem on her cutting machine.

I took the time to explain once again that the wool had to feed through the machine as straight as possible. I told her there was absolutely nothing wrong with her Bliss cutter. A machine can only work as good as the wool placement under the cutting wheel. I told her to only use strips no bigger than three inches wide or less to put through the machine. And never put a scissor cut edge of wool through the machine…torn edges only. If the wool goes wonky on the one side then flip to the other torn side and if that gets screwed up, make a slit with a pair of scissors in the middle and tear it down the center and then you have two fresh edges to work with. Before she left I asked if she hooked with a group and she said she hooks alone at home so I felt reasonably sure the misplaced anger she felt for product didn’t get leaked to the locals.

There was as similiar incident over burlap a few years back. The Canadian supplier received a shipment of a weave that was wider than the normal primitive, a mistake during the manufacturing. They sold it off at a reduced price for people who hooked with hand torn wools. I personally didn’t buy any but I know a few shops that did. The quality was still there, the same weave, it was just a larger hole.

So a woman who happened to be a teacher, came into my shop one day and started asking in a very big voice in front of several customers, “Is this burlap rotten? The stuff I bought at so in so’s was rotten and I don’t want any more of it!”   She kept using the word rotten over and over and I was red faced and embarrassed in front of the other customers. I explained to her that the burlap wasn’t rotten, it was just a larger hole but I couldn’t convince her otherwise.   Between the bad advertising of the teacher and possibly the store full of customers who heard her complaining that day, for months after people came in asking if the burlap we sell is the rotten stuff they'd heard about.

So later my shop friend told me that she attended the Nova Scotia Guild AGM and the woman was sitting several seats behind her and in a booming voice that cut through the chatter to silence the room, she said to the back of the shop keeper's head calling her by name “_____, I need some burlap, do you have better stuff now or are you still selling that rotten one!” The shop keeper was mortified and although we later laughed at the lunacy of it all she lost business. The woman being a teacher had the ability to direct new students to the shops so spreading the news of an inferior product hurt her business.  The friend said sales plummeted for months.   If you sell one rotten product there isn't much faith built for the rest of your goods.

Another tale is of a woman who bought all the wool for one of my patterns to take to Florida for a winter’s project. She was new to rug hooking and had never cut before. I gave her a lesson on what to do and she left. She was planning on buying a cutter in the states.

So off to Florida she flew and a month or so later I get a very nasty phone call telling me that my wool is so rotten it falls apart. Back then it took me by surprise as this had never happened before so quite frankly I didn’t know what to do. Besides, I couldn’t assess what the problem was over the phone but I did have a sneaky feeling that it was cut across the grain and asked if she followed my instructions for cutting that we had gone over before she left.   She assured me the wool was cut properly. She demanded that I replace the wool at my expense or she would never shop from me again. Between the shipping and the wool that I had to redye and cut I was out $100.00. It was a very sticky situation. Newly opened I wasn’t in any position to argue but I only agreed on the provision that when she returned to Mahone Bay she bring in this so called rotten wool for me to inspect. She agreed but I never saw her again.   I don’t even know if she is still hooking.

So all you new hookers cutting your own wool take heed that the making of a strip is not a job to be taken lightly. It takes a steady hand and concentration. Cutting larger cuts, say anything past a #5 you can relax a bit because there will be enough width to maintain the wools strength if you stray a bit, but if working with a #2,3 or 4 you have to be very careful not to compromise the integrity of the wool.

This was a lesson learned for me and the reason why I insist on cutting all my custom made kits. I am asked often for a discount if they cut their own wool and I explain it isn't about the money. I want to ensure the product I send out is top notch, if a problem should arise, like maybe I missed something I can deal with that, at least it isn't a problem with the quality of my wool!

10 Comments

Beading for charity.....

5/10/2013

Here we are a bunch of blingers. My friend Joan Larsen Folkers is visiting from Mexico and when she's in my neck of the woods the beads come out and we play and invent things. Joan is busy making little Cell phone or purse bling and a couple of ankle bracelets and I am securing a brooch pin on the back of a wire bird nest that I will donate to the SBPA to cover spays and neuters for dogs and cats in Mexico.

I've been collecting beads for years and at one time sold finished necklaces and earrings in the shop. I got a bit obsessed and was buying beads so fast I couldn't keep up with the production line of finished pieces. The old black and white Lucille Ball skit in the chocolate factory comes to mind. For those who have never seen this bit of television history click the link to watch. It's a hoot! (Sorry I could make this a live link so if you cut and paste it in Youtube it will work.) www.youtube.com/watch?v=8NPzLBSBzPI

As the beads piled up I got overwhelmed so now I have a gross amount of fabulous bling packed away in boxes crying to be taken out and loved. Exquisite beads from all over the world, handmade and sold by the artist.  No Chinese knockoffs for me! In the trade they refer to themselves as SRA, self representing artists. Nothing is mass produced and some are one of a kind.  Some of my favorites came from Germany, they know how to make luxurious, high end beads that people will zoom in on when you walk into a room. You name it and I have it. All the findings, spacer beads, chains, pearls and high quality handmade lampwork beads you could ask for.   There is enough to open a small store and I've considered it many times in that new back room, but hooking is the number one game around here so I'll just forget about the beads for a bit and haul them out when I have a better plan.

I'm not sure what all the beads represent other than a fascination with sparkly things or maybe I should use the other F word, fetish. And I will admit I went overboard, almost a panic to have it all. My mother called me "crow" when I was a child as I combed the neighbourhood for pieces of broken glass, collected the foil from  cigarette packages and anything that caught the glint of the sun or my eye.   I was doomed from the beginning, but thankfully it's now behind me, literally and figuratively, in boxes in my office.

I sold pretty much 75% of the necklaces sets I made and had enough interest to go on to do a bit of silversmithing and wire wrapping, but I grew tired as the reality set in that I couldn't run two separate business simultaneously and do the justice they both deserved. I had to make a choice and rug hooking won, it was my first entrepreneurial birth so the new bundle was packed away.  Spreading myself too thin served nothing except sleepless nights and disappointment and good intentions weren't enough to keep going.  A number of customers have several pieces of my jewellery and I see them every now and then and think wow, I made that. But it isn't enough to woo me back to the bling table.  Someday when the time is right it will be like Christmas, opening all of those fabulous boxes to reacquaint myself with the treasures within.

Joan and I will get elbow deep in the beads a few more times before she leaves. I plan to donate several more pieces to support the SBPA's auction. Maybe you could check out their Facebook and give them a LIKE. It's a great cause and your like will help spread awareness. www.facebook.com/pages/SBPA-San-Carlos/197277600418611

The SBPA in San Carlos Mexico is an organization dedicated to minimizing unwanted dog and cat population by providing free Spay and Neuter Certificates to anyone that needs financial assistance. The SBPA is dedicated to the protection of animals, domestic and feral, and to the alleviation of suffering created by their uncontrolled reproduction. To this end, we believe that spay and neuter is the best solution to the overpopulation problem. Check out their website.
http://sbpasancarlos.org/

Putting the finishing touches on a little necklace for her puppy. Every dogs needs some special bling when everyday attire won't do.

Friends who bling together stay together! It's fun to have friends with like minded interests. Joan is a great gal, I wish she lived here full time instead of only a few weeks a year maybe she would inspire me to make jewelry again!

I just taught Joan to make wrap twists for drops. She's busy making a few special little gifts for friends back home.

1 Comment

Bull Dozer and Zoe

5/9/2013

By Guest Blogger Laura Hendryx

Bull Dozer is 26 1/2" x 20 1/2"

These are my dogs, my third and fourth rug hooking forays. The big, white and black male is Bull Dozer and he is 5 years old and the little brown and white one is his mother Zoe who is 8 years old.

I started hooking rugs because the woman who taught me, Wilma Hill, is a published hooker and moved back to our home town about the same time I did. She is featured in a book called "Hooked Rug of the South". She has a group that meets at her house over the non-Summer months to hook and share in Fort Smith, Arkansas, USA. She is single-handedly bringing back this art form to our area of the world.

I was born in Fort Smith, but my father was in the military and then after college I joined the Navy and traveled a lot. I started quilting in 1999 and cannot seem to stop and now I am doing wearable art and I started hooking in September 2011.

My first project was from a pattern, a sheep’s head. Then I made a Watermelon rug, three foot round and then I made Wooly Bullie, or my portrait of my beloved dog Bull Dozer and then I made his Mom, Zoe. I cannot decide whether to make these into pillows or whether to frame them.

I can draw free hand but I took digital photos and had them enlarged by the copy center. I transferred the pattern and then dug up a large varied palette of wool colours to do the “painting” or adding of the colour. It can turn out to be as detailed or as folk art as one wants and is a great way to do portraiture. Juxtaposition of darks and lights and warm and cools brings the form out and carves out the space in the piece, but flat would work just as well. I have a degree in Drawing/Painting/Ceramics from Indiana University in Bloomington, IN, and although classical art school training is helpful it isn't totally necessary. I had a lot of fun and they look like my little beasts.

Zoe is 11" x 16 1/2""

2 Comments

The pros and cons of being a rug school vendor.......

5/8/2013

7 Comments

Susan Leslie hooked this piece for me and I always took it to school to sit outside my shop door. Called "Kicking Up Your Heels at Rug School". This rug represents spending too much, eating too much, drinking too much (the hooch under the arm) but hooking your heart out! Rug School is hooking nirvana!

Traditionally this week is usually quiet considering our Nova Scotia Guild Rug School is in full bloom, but tourists are about and the phone keeps ringing so I'm a happy camper. A few of my friends are there partaking in the fabulous world of hooking your heart out, no cooking just eating, wine swilling festivities. I've been there...I know what goes on! Ooops....not supposed to talk out of school.....pardon the pun. Like Vegas, what happens there stays there!

The great part about rug school is the people. I loved the catch-up and making new friends, hearing their stories and seeing the fabulous displays. Walking from class to class to view the talent in each masterpiece always boggled the mind.   I have clear and distinct memories of certain projects that I've gushed over and I wonder where they are now, what they look like finished.

The laughter; always so much laughter, the pure joy that radiated from each room spreading out into the halls like liquid sunshine. The talented teachers coaxing out the artist in their students, sometimes taking them outside their comforts zones and maybe a bit out of the box. Even when it rained the energy buzzed like bees in a daisy field.   I'll always remember the people and that is the one thing that makes me sad every year at this time. Missing Joan Stevenson's humour and Rita's Jenkin's jokes, Vicki Graham and Susie Stevenson's foot massages, Anne Rankin's stories and just an overall camaraderie. The comfort of hooking sisters, sharing the passion that brings us together for that special five days in May.

My first experience with rug school was as a student in the dye class and after that I went as a vendor. That keeps you busy during the daytime and then at night, you play, or at least try too. The first year there I was the youngest in a crowd of an average age of 68 and found out pretty quickly everything stopped at 8:30 pm. Most were in bed or hanging out in their rooms in jammies, maybe partaking in a little glass of wine for circulation purposes...you know, medicinal reasons. Being a night person I wanted to rock and roll, geez maybe just have a conversation with someone, but I ended up watching TV all by my lonesome in a creepy basement.

One year there was hope. After dinner we all gathered in the large banquet room and the piano was wheeled out for a little sing song. I was first in line for a bit of action, loving to sing and belt out the golden oldies. Well, I was there singing my little heart out when it got a bit quiet behind me so I turned around and the room was empty, just me and the piano player, and realizing the audience had left, so did she in mid tune. Once again I was standing alone thinking someone ought to put a little something in the food to liven the place up a bit, just enough to go until 9:30?

The following year, things were a bit wild. Not only did the crowd manage to stay up until 9:00, at one point I saw one of the teachers swill wine out of a mop bucket. I had a picture somewhere but maybe that's like kissing and telling....although I don't seem to have a problem with that. Lucky for the 80 plus year old teacher I couldn't locate it. Now before you get grossed out the bucket was brand new! I thought great, that's what I'm talkin about, a lively crowd for once! But, I think the convulsive laughter sent them all scurrying to the toilet if they hadn't already unloaded in their depends. Once out of the room they collectively decided to call it a night.  Now don't be annoyed...I'm only exaggerating and having fun...I don't think they had depends back then.......:)

After that I noticed school was changing. A younger crowd was beginning to catch on to the magic of rug hooking and enrollment offered new possibilities for some fun. Being a shop owner I get to meet everyone pretty quickly as they check out your store so I could tell this might be a better year, surely one of these gals would stay up and watch a bit of TV with me or shoot the breeze.  I lucked out. It appears Susan Leslie and Susie Stevensons knew how to par-taa, and someday I might tell the tale of the after hours fun we had...getting lost on campas and trying to find our way back to our dorms. I'd smelled a wine cork so was a blubbering idiot.  It didn't take much for me to be a floor licker in those days, not that it's improved much since. I'm still working on the tolerance factor...by the time I'm eighty I should be able to hold a full glass of wine without dancing on a table. I don't remember a whole lot about the evening but every now and then a shard breaks through but I do remember it beat sitting in the creepy basement.

Over the years I've seen a lot of rug schools and maybe my take on them is a bit different than a student or a teacher. I decided once Cornwallis closed and rug school was now only in Truro that I would hang up my vendor apron. The tall and the short of it is the Guild's rules make it impossible for me to attend school to sell my wares. The Agricultural College administration doesn't want the vendors there because we are for profit and over the years we were stuck in some pretty dank, poorly lit areas. One year it was the gym with dozens of basketballs bouncing endlessly from 10 am to 4 pm. Talk about bonkers, that's when a drink would have come in handy! You literally couldn't hear the customers speak or ask a question without shouting. They stuck us so far away from the classrooms that it was a brutal expedition, especially for those with walking problems and canes. To get to the shops one older woman actually slipped in the rain and broke her ankle on the trek across compass. And on top of that, the lighting was so dull with a sickening orange glow, people had to go outside to see the actual colour of the wool they might want to buy. That was a bad, bad year for business, went so far in the hole I hemorrhaged red.

Other times we were in the basement, a dank hole that made my face burn and my fingers swell. Must and mold are not my favorite scents. Then at times two vendors were stuck in the same room together. This was before my time but I heard all about it from a friend who had a shop. She got into some real cat fights with people and left bad blood splattered all over the walls.   She was her own worst enemy and caused most of the dissension but it just proves that bunking up vendors is a bad idea.   And people would take things from one vendors table, walk around and then take it to the other vendor to buy.   It was a bit crazy at times. And then vying for space was a deal breaker. One taking more than they should while someone else felt cheated. Yup....not chicken soup for the soul by any means. (I'm using one disgruntled person as a reference who no longer is in the business but filled my ears to the brim with the unfairness of school....I don't speak for everyone so please don't holler at me.)

One of my biggest problems with the Truro school is the bathroom facilities. You have to leave your warm, albeit uncomfortable bed, (I don't know what they are like now but back then the beds consisted of a thin piece of foam over a hard wood frame, nasty on the bones if sleep even ventured near) to traipse down the hall and god forbid if two in the morning the door locks behind you and you've forgotten your key. The doors swung quick and hard, not enough time to collect your sleepy thoughts to remember to take your keys, but you awaken quickly as the door slams your butt on the way out.....nice. I only did it once but it left a lasting impression.

The showers were communal with only a sheet between you and the next wet body. I'm a prude...don't like to be naked in public and there was no place to hide behind to change. Please don't tell me I've got the same stuff as any other woman, it's my stuff and I don't like strutting it! You had to strip in the open area, hang up your clothes and then dash behind the curtain or take your stuff in with you and try to keep if from getting a shower as well and good luck with that! And I don't mind rubbing elbows with the hooking fold but not literally while having a shower! Not a great life....camping in substandard conditions is for the youth who venture into the woods......I'm over having hardships. I like my modern convenience.   And the rooms were too dingy to even hook in them...I have no clue how the students studied in that college, unless they took the good light bulbs with them.

When the school was held at the Cornwallis Convention Center it was a cake walk. Toilets and a shower in your room was worth an extra $100 or more. The rooms felt clean and bright and the beds were comfortable. The food was better too and the people were so friendly to the vendors we felt as if we belonged.   Once that facility closed it was curtains for me and I'll tell you why. If you don't like to hear complaining I suggest you grab your coffee and head back to your hooking!

People ask me all the time why I don't go to rug school anymore and besides the crummy bedsit dormitory and crappy vendor spaces I have a few insights that I would like to share. It isn't like I'm talking behind the Guild's back, because, in the past, I've addressed these concerns with them. A few of the shops agree but no one wants to complain, I had nothing to loose so I grabbed the torch and ran with it. I want it stated that I would be perfectly happy to take my shop to rug school, anytime, anywhere, but I would insist on some changes first. I've always worked hard for schools, prepped by dyeing wool for months and designed patterns and filled my space with hooking delights. I worked my butt off to be the best I could be and took everything in the shop to make it worthwhile to the students.   I thought I was an important asset to the success of the school but apparently, not so much.

As long as I was ignorant of certain facts I was willing to go for PR because school was never a money making proposition. If you take into account the vendor fee, room and board, meals, rental of a vehicle, gas, insurance, labour to pack up and deliver, then pack up and bring home, all the gifts requested for handouts and all the incidentals it came to a couple thousand dollars.   Now some tell me that I do this because I love it and shouldn't worry about making money but hey....I'm a registered business with bills to pay, employees who don't work for nothing and overhead up the yin yang. Also, while I'm at rug school peddling my wares there is little to buy in the shop so there is all that lost revenue as well. As long as I was not privy to all the facts I sucked it up and hauled my shop around and did what I thought I had to do for the success of the school, but then a little birdie told me something that changed my entire outlook.

In a nutshell, I found out the teachers were reimbursed for travel expenses, didn't have to pay for accommodations or meals, got paid to teach plus were allowed to bring product to sell. I was shocked and full of disbelief for a bit and then asked around to verify the facts. I felt a bit sick to my stomach when it was confirmed.

The meaning of the word vendor is any person or company that sells goods or services to someone else. Somehow there remains this grey area that separates the vendor, who is perceived a profit monger while the coveted teacher gets propped on a pedestal. The Agricultural college school shuns the shops, didn't want us on their doorstep because we were for profit but somehow overlooked the fact that the teachers were also profit making enterprises. One Guild representative said they have a hard time getting the school to accept the vendors at all, and probably the reason for the shabby spaces we are given to set up and sell and the reason for the fees that keep going up each year, now standing at $500.00.   Note: Never in these words do I want anyone thinking that I have a problem with teachers, that is not my point and I hope that is clear!

I have been told, why should we care, we're making money, so what if we have to pay and pay and pay, but in the all the years I attended rug school only one was a break even and the others were all losses. You have to make a Brinks load of money  to break even or ring up a profit after the heady expenses are subtracted off. I'm sure only people in retail will understand as most think we make a haul and laugh all the way to the bank...I've been told this so often it's now almost funny. So where is the incentive to go? So much work for no reward other than a good time in the evening.   It just poor business sense, and I am certain if all the teachers were treated with the same set of rules, there would be no school.

So this year I noticed an SOS in the Guild newsletter for vendors to step up to the plate but at $500.00 for a room there was no chance in heck that I would go. I considered writing a letter saying that I would attend if the fee was dropped and I would still be willing to eat the expense of accommodations and meals, but after a previous years "chat" I was turned down and the things I discussed were ignored so I figured I would be wasting my time.   A letter was sent out shortly after with 15 or 17 conditions necessary to attend school as a vendor and all it did was make it more work to go. I might as well have saved my breath. The message taken? My shop as well as the others, weren't deemed an important asset to the Nova Scotia Guild Rug School.

So that's my rant. I guess I won't be Miss Popularity by being frank but I'll take that chance. Before I knew the facts, I used to think the shops were just as important as the teachers, offering a service to the overall success and benefit of the school, bloody foolish girl that I was...........

P. S. One thing I forgot to add....I found out that the shops were actually charged more for their room and meals, I believe it was around $100.00. When I went to pay my bill at Cornwallis the clerk told me that I had a different rate than the students because the guild subsidized them to keep their costs down. I asked why it did not apply to me, considering I am a guild member, but apparently my vendor status meant no Guild perks.

Another year and another ton of stuff. All that packing and lugging! What a workout! Hubby made these great caps to put on the end of the tables to keep the wool from falling over the edge. Clever boy!

I'm sure the smaller vendors groaned to see me coming but you have to bring a ton of stuff to cover all the needs. You never know what will sell from year to year. Still more stuff behind me. We worked for months to prepare for school. I always had new designs to check out.

Check out the large Egyptian pattern hanging on the wall. I only made one and it was purchased by a rug hooker in Scotland. I plan to do a blog on this pattern shortly. I had a lot of fun at rug school...it seems like a long time ago now....

A lot of stuff packed into a very small space. Even more stuff behind me. I believed in making sure I had a bit of everything as not to disappoint. I hated having to say "Sorry, I left that at the shop."

7 Comments

Beginning Rug Hooking Class

5/7/2013

The next class is scheduled for May 19th. 1:00 -4:00 pm

The class concentrates on technique. It is so important to learn proper loop formation, the foundation of all your projects to come. Simple tips can make the difference between higgly piggly loops and straight, uniform ones. Holding your hook properly dictates the neatness of your work as well as saving your wrist from repetitive stress.
In this class we concentrate on loop height and position. We practice straight and curvy lines and circles. Once you master these simple techniques you are off to the races.

Let's get you started! Bring a sense of humour because we love to laugh!
Coffee and Tea will be served. Call our toll free number to reserve your spot 1-855-624-0370

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ENCOMPASSING more space for DESIGNS of the future......

5/7/2013

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A closet built to maximize wall space. Long and deep.

How come as you get older everything seems to expand? Maybe we like to think our clothes are shrinking or the scales are off, but the reality is, our bodies change and so we must resign to fact that bigger is better or be disgruntled till the end.

My business is growing older as well and it's expanding around the girth but this is one change I can live with. As hard as it is to believe we are thirteen years old, no longer a child, growing in leaps and bounds from all the good wool I feed it. It's blossomed into a precocious teenager, sassy and full of spunk, wanting to explore new avenues having a blast. All aboard! It's full steam ahead for the next decade......I hope you will come along for the ride!

So I'm bulging at the seams...the shop, not me. When the opportunity cropped up to expand into the back room, I jumped on it. The floor is going in today and that will only leave the window and door trim and baseboard moulding. Shane primed and painted one coat of top colour the other day. A rather happy yellow that will get toned down with rugs and patterns hanging off the walls, so it won't be such a blast to the eye when you cross the threshold.

I'm thinking the room will house the patterns, what I call the less attractive side of the business. Just a bunch of burlap and linen hanging on a rack does little to inspire the colourful landscape I see for the shop. When you walk in the front door I want you to be swept away to a colour-filled fantasy-land for as far as the eye can see. I want drool on the floor and a glazed look in your eye!

Another shipment arrived today so we now have 55 different plaids, checks and herringbone weaves on the shelf. These wools are perfect as is, or throw on a bit of dye to jazz it up. I'm appreciating the simple texture more and more. You can strip a multi-coloured plaid down the different tones for multiple looks. My big fish rug was the perfect testimony to what a plaid can do for interest and colour.

Once the patterns are relocated in the new space then I will have more room for the coveted wool, and maybe a wing back or two to sit and chat, take a load off for trailing husbands or come and hook for the afternoon in a place that inspires the pants of ya! The coffee is exceptional and the company divine! Well...you be the judge on that......

I'm feeling like the universe is smiling down on me....being able to come to work in such a lovely studio. I'm sitting here writing and sipping my favorite brew while Shane is downstairs vacuuming....life doesn't get much better than this! I might take the day off, sit on my laurels and savour the scenery. Maybe I'll hook just for the sake of hooking, nothing that needs to be done, just pull some loops for the shear joy of it, grab a pattern off the rack and just do it!

I hate to sound like a broken record but I love, love, love my studio! Thank goodness there isn't a shower in the shop or I might never leave!

Taped and mudded, waiting for a coat of primer. Be patient my precious! I'm going to install that lovely mantel for a bit of charm.

The first few pieces of flooring are down. I'll be dancing in there this evening! The yellow looks darker here because of the light flooding through the loading doors.

A close-up of the flooring. It looks more golden here but the actual tone is more brown. It reminds me of old wood. Cheap and cheerful stock flooring. Saved a thousand bucks just from taking someone's leftovers....trying to match what I already have throughout the shop would have been a special order and upped the price substantially. New room, new look!

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Hooker's Serenity Prayer

5/6/2013