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A beadiful weekend.....

11/30/2015

1 Comment

 
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What a weekend!  The Father Christmas Festival was in full swing, and although Saturday was a bit drippy and dreary, Sunday was sunny, cool and crisp.  I can’t say there were a lot of people in town, in the past the second weekend always seemed busier but there were people milling about, popping in and out of the shops, listening to carolers and spotting Father Christmas about town.

We decorated for the season and served organic apple cider and let me say, the smell was intoxicating.  It was great for warming the belly on a cold day and droppers-by hung around the table ladling the cider into their cups, warming their hands on the bowl and inhaling the sweet steam. Children had red noses and mittens, winter jackets and lined boots were back in fashion.  The horse drawn wagon taxied people up and down the streets, the clip clop of their hooves a melodic background to the laughter and excited voices of the passengers.  Christmas was definitely in the air. 

Hubby and I had the Bead and Crystal sale upstairs in the classroom and it captured a steady flow of traffic.  There were a lot of tire kickers and those that were curious, but we had several sales to make it worth our while.   It will be on again next weekend. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired.  By the middle of yesterday afternoon I was a no show, sleeping on my office computer keyboard. My head fell so slowly I never noticed the descent and then I was gone. I awoke sometime later with the imprint of keys on my face and dashes streaming across the word document I had been writing on.  I'd been out like a light, too tired to even dream.   I burned the candle from both ends all week and finally ran out of wax.  Preparing for this sale, packaging and pricing and working on the display was an accumulation of late nights and long days.   It was basically like setting up a new business.  Oh well, I sold a bunch of beads which was the goal but unfortunately there are plenty more to go.  I need to come up with ideas to reach a broader market.  Bring folks down from the city to see what I have.  If anyone out there knows and bead lovers, please pass it along!  I need to sell these beads so I can get back on the hooking straight and narrow, where I belong.  I wondered over to the dark side but now I'm back and I'd like to keep it that way....

A friend helped with the sale and got me fired up about jewelry making again. I panicked a bit.  I could feel the sizzle building as her enthusiasm spurred me on.  She bought some raw beads and wants to get together to make them into bling.  I’ll have to haul out all the string, findings and clasps and there could be trouble.  I hope I don’t fall down the rabbit hole and loose myself again in the glittery sparkle and wonderment of beading.  I can’t serve two craft masters, and hooking has to win....I hope I can bead strong! 

If the beads don’t sell I’ll have to figure out a plan B.  They can sit in boxes for a while but maybe I should take a few weeks over the long, cold winter and make them into jewelry and do a trade show next year.  I have to recoup what I’ve spent or they’ll represent a big waste of my money and time, hanging over my head as it bows in shame from the magnitude of guilt. If only someone would come by and offer a price for the lot, I’d pack it all up and help them to the car and wave bye until my arm falls off.    

So it’s Monday and back to all things rug hooking.  December 1st is only hours away and that means Christmas, Christmas, Christmas from now on.  I love the shop right now, regaled in red it positively glows! 



A shop full of Christmas Carolers
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An appreciative audience.
1 Comment

Father Christmas Festival this weekend!

11/27/2015

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We are decking our halls for the season.   The first weekend of the Father Christmas Festival is upon us.   Our shop has a red festive glow!  Come in to see us for a cup of Christmas cheer.

We are also set up to sell beads and crystals this weekend so if you are interested in either, come on by! 

I'm hooking Mrs. Cone Santa.  I hope to be finished this evening and then will have kits ready to go early next week.  Patterns will be available as soon as I have her hooked to attach a picture. 

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Our Santa Bundles are all ready to roll.  Ho Ho Ho!
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A reindeer's been sited....up, up and away!
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New to the shop.  Professionally printed for an authentic look and feel, a Last Will & Testament of a Rug Hooker.  It's fun to leave behind instructions for our loved ones and our hooking group to know what to do with our wool stash and equipment.   http://www.encompassingdesigns.com/extra.html
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Cones, Colds & Collections

11/24/2015

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I can feel it!  Christmas is in the air!  The snowflakes fluttering to earth is an undisputable sign.  The town is decking the halls in anticipation of the Father Christmas Festival this weekend.  All the elves are out hanging lights to sparkle up the place.  The town usually buzzes with excitement and we look forward to seeing Father Christmas walking the streets, popping into the shops to say Ho Ho Ho Hello!   I’ve been a very good girl this year so I expect Santa will be extra nice to me…..

I haven’t decorated the store yet but tomorrow I can see Encompassing Designs regaled in red and white spendour.  I’m feeling a bit festive today although yesterday I was down for the count.  Sunday another blasted cold infiltrated my body and took me down hard.  Monday I was a lather of perspiration, achy head and sneezing to beat the band.  Today, I feel much better, almost fully alive, but I’m suffering a residual headache.  The main thing is that I’m up and functional.  Any time this side of six feet under is a plus. 

So Sandy Bruce was in on Saturday to show me her lovely cone Santa’s and that reminded me I need to design and hook Mrs. Cone Claus to match her fella I posted last year.   So stay tuned for later in the week, I’ll do it up right away.

In the meantime I’m immersed in my bead collection up to my ankles.  We're trying to price them and set up displays for this weekend’s bead sale.  I have more beads than most trade shows, at least in the variety category.  I’m a bit sad as I bag them up, being a fruitcake that gets attached to inanimate objects.  So much pretty!  They sparkle and feel so soft in my hands, I keep putting ones aside for myself, even though deep down I know I’ll never make serious bling again.  My new minimalist nature is kicking my procrastinating, head in the clouds, arse so I put them back on the for sale pile.   I don’t have time for all the things I really want to do like hook, write and sail, the beads have to die!!!!!!

I’m selling them in the hopes that someone else will love them and make good use of their potential.  Splash out in one-of-a-kind bling that will mesmerize their friends.  Anyway, it will be interesting to see how all my beads are received.   Hopefully people show up. 

I’m only asking for the price I paid or marking them down a bit and there is no tax charged as it isn’t going through my business.  I ordered one of the Squares to be able to process credit cards on my IPhone and of course cash is always nice.  I’ve created a FB page and have posted a few pictures on there and will do a bit more before the day. Whatever doesn’t sell during the sale will be posted on the FB page and hopefully sell over time. If you would like to see the FB page called BEADS! BEADS! BEADS! click this link:   https://www.facebook.com/beadsfantastic/

My husband is also going to be selling part of his private collection of Crystals and Fossils that day.   Provenance will be available on request. 

So back to pricing beads.  See you Saturday!  “Bead here or bead square!”


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Sandy put bells on the tops of her Cone Santas.  Clever and I've already been to the dollar store to score a bunch pf bells to do that on mine!   I always love how folks come up with special ideas to pump up the jam! 
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Cone Santa pattern.  Three different sizes, small, medium and large.   Click to view:  http://www.encompassingdesigns.com/seasonal-designs.html
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Wednesday's Hook-in

11/20/2015

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The beads have taken over the classroom and forced us to have our Wednesday evening hook-in downstairs.  Thousands of strings of beads, focals, seed beads, and findings, spider brooches and crystals are spread all over the upstairs, both tables straining against the weight.  We are getting ready for the BEADS! BEADS! BEADS! Sale during the Father Christmas Festival starting next weekend. 

Sitting downstairs in the shop to hook isn’t a hardship by any means; we were comfortable surrounded by tons of wool and a cornucopia of colour.  Sort of like hooking in heaven, don’t cha think?   

As always there’s lots of laughter.  At one point we had a flasher.  I won’t mention any names but she’s the devilish one in the group…  The heat pump was spitting out a tropical heat wave and she was in full blown hot flash so she opened the front door and was fanning her top to allow a bit of cool air underneath.  So we all chimed in unison, “Dare you to flash a car!”  There’s something about a group of estrogen laden women, we can get quite juvenile in the right moment, and perhaps we will always be kids at heart no matter how much age and maturity dulls us down.  She turned to us and said, “should I?” and we cheered her on like a bunch of dollar totting broads at a male strip joint.   Sure enough, a truck went by and they got a full view of her chest as her shirt went to her chin.  Luckily she was wearing a bra that evening; which isn’t always the case, so if they were looking they saw a hooker standing in the doorway lifting her shirt.   There wasn’t any screeching of tires, but inside the shop it was ear piecing.    What a hoot! 

I’m rounding the corner on my commission.  I got sucker punch into hooking a rug and although I like to complain a bit, I really don’t mind.  I’ll have a really good picture of this square pillow size of the Mahone Bay Three Churches that we sell as an Iconic Trio. 

I could never say no to Armenia.  She’s my little pet.  She’s been with me since day one when she and two friends almost tripped over one another coming up the stairs to the shop once the word dropped at their hook-in that a new store opened in the Bay.   I remember her sweet face as she introduced herself.  We were instant friends.   Shane and I get more hugs from Armenia than our spouses.   She’s a cheerful force, never down even when she’s troubled.  They don’t make them like that anymore, her mold was broken.  

It was a couple of Saturday’s ago when she asked Sue to hook her the Lunenburg pillow top from the Iconic Trio patterns we have.  There is a Mahone Bay Churches, Lunenburg Harbour Front and Peggy’s Cove Lighthouse.   Sue, suffering the same affliction in the “no” department, agreed, but when Armenia then asked for a Mahone Bay Churches one as well, Sue wasn’t long throwing me under the bus saying that I would do it.  I’ve sworn up and down that I would never do another commission; the reasons blistered the pages of a previous blog, but what do you do when someone you really care for asks for help….you do it and not complain…..much. 

So I tackled it immediately.  I’m a big procrastinator and if I left it until December it would have been harder to get to.  I started it right away and after having one third done I bragged to Sue.  I suppose we both have a bit of healthy competitiveness so she bestered me by starting and finishing hers in one day.  I’ll finish mine tonight and although second, I’ll be happy to have it done so I can move on.   I have my eye on one of those darling Owl chair pads and have it colour planned and ready to roll.  Then I have to get back to my Initials as there are only four more to hook!


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Patsy's Embroidery

11/19/2015

7 Comments

 

By Guest Blogger Patsy Langdon Gorveatte

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I’ve been a handcrafter my entire life.  I followed in my mother’s footsteps. She did many forms of needlework such as petit point, needlepoint, crochet, knitting, smocking, quilting, crewel, as well as sewing.  There are probably others that I am forgetting.  Everything she did, I wanted to try as well.  I love them all.  Within the last 8 years, I took up machine embroidery.  I enjoyed it so much I decided to start my own small business in February 2010 called Patsy’s Embroidery Service.  I embroider everything from hats, shirts, gym bags, backpacks, towels, golf towels and so much more.   That was my real passion until my husband and I moved in 2014.  My local walk-in/drop-off traffic slowed down because we moved 30 minutes outside the city and we weren’t as easily accessible.  As soon as we moved I discovered the Hooked Rug Museum of North America located in Queensland, Nova Scotia, Canada.  A mere 8 minute drive from my front door.

What is this? A handcraft I had not yet tried?  Well, my quest had begun.  I talked to them at the museum and frequented their Thursday hook-ins.  I joined a small Rug Hooking group in St. Margaret’s Bay called the St. Margaret’s Bay Schoolhouse Rug Hookers (just 8 minutes in the other direction) where I pulled my first loops.  I also started to frequent the local rug hooking shops in Mahone Bay and Halifax.  I joined the Main Street Hookers at Encompassing Designs in Mahone Bay.  I joined the Rug Hooking Guild of Nova Scotia which led me to my membership with the Kingfisher Rug Hookers in Halifax.  I became a hooking sponge.  I tried to gather and learn from as many people as I could.   I joined a few online rug hooking groups as well such as Gene Shepherd’s “Internet Rug Camp” and  Wanda Kerr’s  “The Welcome Mat”. 

As a result of my decrease in walk-in business I tried to come up with a product or service that I could sell online. As I was pumping out rugs I discovered a need for an easy way to make rug labels for the back.    So I got on my computer and designed my first sample rug label.  I stitched it out on my embroidery machine and started showing it to my fellow hookers for feedback.  The positive response was overwhelming.  On day one I received my first order for a label that included the name of the mat, who designed and hooked it as well as the date.  I used a coordinating felt and a complimentary thread to bring it to life.  As soon as that one real label was created it became the envy of others.  The orders started.  This was the answer for many hookers who either did not have the ability to create a label of their own, or perhaps the interest.  The rug hooking was their thing and having a descriptive label created by someone else was very appealing.  With the help of one of my fellow Kingfishers who encouraged me to open my own Etsy shop, I was off to the races.  Within a few days I had my first online order.  How exciting.  From there, for those who do not want to put a label on the back of their rug, I designed Machine Embroidered Rug Tape.  This to me is the cat’s meow.  It says whatever you want it to say; you stitch it on, and then no need for a label.  So it all depends on you.  Rug Label or Rug Tape.  They are both getting great feedback.

If you are interested in browsing my Etsy shop I can be found at “Etsy.Com.HookedRugLabels”.  You could just to go Etsy and search on rug labels and they would come up.  I haven’t listed everything that is available just yet, but if you have an idea and don’t see it there, just send me a conversation and we can make it come to life.

I am so happy I discovered Rug Hooking.  I have to say, of all the crafts I’ve done in my life, this is by far my favourite.
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I also have a website for my embroidery business at www.patsysembroidery.com.  My email address is patsy@patsysembroidery.com.
 


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7 Comments

Happy Hooters Bell pull and chair pads

11/18/2015

0 Comments

 
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Happy Hooters Bell Pull is 48" x 9 1/2". 
Each chair pad is 14" Dia. 

Visit my New Designs Page for pricing.
http://www.encompassingdesigns.com/new-designs.html

These guys are a hoot and I want to hook them all.  Realistically that won't happen but I'd be happy with one I just don't know how to  choose the one! 

I can see them hooked in my head.  Perhaps a different colour plan than usual.   Keep it really simple, values of light teals and browns or perhaps with a tough of orange in the flowers.  So many colours, so many ways, how to decide?

Hooter One
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Hooter Two
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Hooter Three
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Hooter Four
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Hooter Five
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Eye-Candy!!!

11/17/2015

1 Comment

 
As I feed the Facebook monster, I keep forgetting that a lot of our followers don't have pages so these are some of the pictures I've posted over the last week. 
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William Morris Strawberry Thief hooked by Theresa Scratch.  To check outthe other Morris Designs on our webpage click this link:  http://www.encompassingdesigns.com/william-morris.html
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Our Crocks & Jugs Design hooked by Lynn Chamberlain Soule  http://www.encompassingdesigns.com/signature-designs.html
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Pursonable hooked by Earline Sharpe
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Shaughney Aston (left) and Sherry Veinotte (right), two friends and two rugs.
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Patsy's Pansies
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Sherry's wonderful Geometric Jewels.  She opted to do the long cabin design instead of the squares.  Great job!
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Two new designs.  Stained Glass Lighthouse & Schooner and Sky Siren.
Click the New Designs Page on the website for details.  http://www.encompassingdesigns.com/new-designs.html

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For those that have asked for longer paddles for the sit on frame we now have them.  They are the standard height with 6" more in length. 
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Three beautiful new wools Shane has cooked up in the dye kitchen.  These pictures don't do them justice.
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Sandy Bruce is doing a great job with our Christmas Cardinals With Poinsettia pattern.  http://www.encompassingdesigns.com/seasonal-designs.html
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Pam is finished!  Wow!
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Gorgeous Autumn Leaf bundles in the shop.  Only a few left!  Yum!
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Our Patches pattern made the cover of the NS Rug Hooking Guild newsletter.  Thank-you to Jean Wentzell for making it such a show stopper! 


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Gorgeous job on our Fair Seas pattern.  The rug hooker squared it off and I'm thinking it's perfect!  Sorry I didn't get your name!  
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Lots of new Three Feet Of Sheep in the shop.  New colours!  And we have several bags of one colour graduated bags as well. 
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More luscious colours of braided roving!
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Lovely out of the box dyed wools!
A new shipment of plaid wool, all washed and torn apart.
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A new stocking design by Mary Doig.  Tessellation Trees
http://www.encompassingdesigns.com/seasonal-designs.html

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Another one of our Christmas Stocking patterns hooked! "No Crib for His Bed" by Pat Devearu  http://www.encompassingdesigns.com/seasonal-designs.html
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Marsha Wong hooked our pattern "Tri Relaxing"  http://www.encompassingdesigns.com/signature-designs.html
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Holly Days hooked by Trudi Roberts  http://www.encompassingdesigns.com/seasonal-designs.html
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Picking on the Post Office staff...does P.O. now mean Pied Off?

11/16/2015

3 Comments

 
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Tuesday I was waiting in line at the post office behind a man I went to school with. We didn’t speak, I don’t even know if he realized I was behind him, maybe if he did it would have simmered his temper but I’m not sure; he seemed rather comfortable being an ass.   I was shocked at the degree of his belligerence for the gal that works there.  Sure, he beef was really with Canada Post but she was the only one able to absorb the wrath and he let her have it with both barrels. Michelle worked for us for a bit and she’s sweet, doesn’t deserve to be crapped on by irate customers who slam her over the price of postage.   And this isn’t an isolated incident. It seems every time I’m in a line up there, someone is blowing steam in the direction of the person behind the counter about the price of their parcel.   

That person serving you is no more responsible for the increase in postage, or the rules that accompany it, than you are.  She is there to do a job and does it with a smile despite the attempts to wipe it off.  I’ve never seen Michele grumpy, and if she was a hateful so-in-so at her post, then she’d have to expect a bit of rude repartee, but she takes it all, well-practiced in the art of deflection.  I was impressed how she kept her cool as she was pummeled with absurd and angry comments like, “No wonder I can’t get a job!”  (I assumed it was a resume being sent?) “No wonder people send things by courier!” and “I won’t be using the post office again!”

He threw the envelope on the counter with disdain.  If I worked there I would have Frisbee’d it back, but then I’m all talk and maybe I'd have to eat crow to keep the job, but really, how much would I have to put up with before I snap and come back with a semi-automatic to settle the score?   How much crap is a person supposed to swallow and digest for the sake of a paycheque?  No, I'm not condoning violence but maybe there is a reason behind why some go off the rails, maybe they've taken it too long, letting it rot their gut until the poison spills out.  

As the rude guy was heading for the door I said loudly, “Wow Michelle, is that what you have to put up with?” Michelle didn’t say anything but her look spoke volumes. My wise mother would have said, “Good riddance to bad rubbish” as she kicked his sorry arse outside and a part of me wanted to run after the guy and give him a lecture, shame him into cooling his jets.  I'm much better able to defend the underdog than fight my own battles and boy was I ready to duke it out.  I was fuming inside.  Not only was his attitude uncalled for he was attacking an innocent party, when he should have been screaming at someone higher up the postal department ladder.  

I have no opinion about postage.  It is what it is and mailing is an integral part of my business so I go with the flow which is so much less stressful than against.  Sure I complain about the high cost of mailing after every increase, but never to the staff at the post office!  I want those people to like me, smile when I come through their door and have a pleasant experience during the transaction, not to mention I thank my lucky stars we have a post office when they seem to be a dying breed.   

Everything has gone up.  Bread used to cost .75 cents.....now its four bucks or more depending on the organic versus non-organic wheat.   Do I complain? No, what’s the point?  It’s all relative and you have to deal with it!  So deal or squeal people, but don’t take it out on the person behind the counter!  Somehow the post office takes the biggest brunt of customer complaints.  The price of gas, coffee and eggs can soar through the roof but a stamp seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back!  

Those same people go to the liquor store and eat, or in this case drink, the increases without a word.    Same with cigarettes and all the crap people stuff into their faces.  A bag of chips is nothing but air, a few dozen slices of potato with a hefty price tag.  Folks pay more for chips than a stamp and shove them into their gizzard and not say a bloody word!  Canned pop will kill you, there isn’t one ounce of food value, is loaded with chemicals and some drink two liters a day without a comment, but their world comes to an end to buy a stamp?   

The groaning and bitching, “How things used to be”, and all the talk about having to “remortgage the house just to send a letter”, or “I won’t be able to afford to eat tonight”.   So funny and original of you, not!  Don’t quit you day job because you’ll never make it as a comedian! 

Stop picking on our postal workers!  If you’re disgruntled, write the people that run the joint, stick it to Deepak Chopra, he’s the big cheese.   Leave Michelle and her coworkers alone.  And on top of that, one woman that he was speaking too that was standing off to the side was vigorously shaking her head in agreement, egging him on.  Sure, gang up on poor Michelle like a bunch of bullies.  And that is what it is, plain and simple, bullying! 

And I heard what she said to him.  Butterflies could have sailed our of her mouth as she quietly explained that the envelope was costing an extra dollar than the quote he’d received previously because he’d stuffed another sheet of paper in it, tipping the scale. He knew why it was costing more; he was probably pulling a fast one and got caught trying to slip it through.  Probably hoped she wouldn't weigh it. 
 
Anyway, I’ve seen and heard things in the post office before and my father worked there his entire career so as a child, I listened to all the tales of rude customers at the dinner table.  Obviously nothing has changed but the tone is getting a bit more intense.  Dad mostly complained about people pounding quarters on the counter to make him hustle to the wicket. He never had people throw things at him. 

Today, it seems a captive audience is a target if you’re in a foul mood.  So please, please, be nice to the person behind the counter, any counter.  That’s someone’s daughter, wife, mother you’re browbeating, and not to discriminate, men get pummeled too.  These people are only doing a job; they don’t set the prices or make the rules.  They are there to serve you, lighten up and show a little respect!  Pick on someone your own size, me for instance!   I know people read this from the Bay and I'm itching to write the guys name, put him on a wall of shame for all the town to see.  If I catch you acting in this manner again, I will, so sue me! 
   
That’s my rant for today!

3 Comments

Remembrance 2015

11/12/2015

1 Comment

 
Larry Willoughby Veinotte
Born 1908 Mahone Bay
Died and is buried in Sicily 1943
One of 116,000 Canadian Soldiers that never came back home. 


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Yesterday was a cold, blustery day.  The sea outside my window appeared angry. Whitecaps were whipping the shore, pounding round after round of watery assault like artillery fire.  It seemed a fitting day to remember the soldiers of past crusades. 

November 11th  is always a rough day for me.  I can’t seem to pull up my socks and get past the gloom of what war represents.  I wish I could join the masses to celebrate and honour those that sacrificed everything for our freedom but instead I dwell on the darkness of war, the suffering, the atrocities these poor soldiers witnessed and it destroys me.  All I see are poor, frightened boys in the trenches and my maternal heart bleeds for them.  Maybe my type of personality shouldn’t watch a lot of war documentaries, but I do, I can’t stop myself and I’m shell shot by the horrendous footage.  My mind is black and blue for days and I keep having flashbacks of scenes on the battlefields.  The bodies, the chaos, the insanity of it all and now with coloured reels, so much blood.  I keep thinking, that’s someone son, husband, father.  I moan, I cry and I scream, why can’t humans get along?

I feel the need to suffer on Remembrance Day, for those that died and those that came home not as whole as when they left.  Standing at the Cenotaph under sunny skies with warm breezes caressing our faces is a far cry from the ravages a soldier experienced so I hope for nasty weather so we have to suffer just a little bit, feel the cold drill into our clothing; numb our fingers while the gusts of fall threaten to steal our hats and breath away.   So many people suffered and died under despicable conditions so we could be free and for those lucky enough to make it back home, they suffered gruesome images burned on their retina, horrors following them to sleep and cavorting in their nightmares.  It drives me crazy to dwell on it but I can’t seem to stop myself.  
  
We shouldn’t have it easy!  We need to reflect on their sacrifice while tightening our collars against the wind, feel the chill and echoes of their suffering in our bones.  If we don’t remember what these people went through, how are we to prevent it from happening again?  But then maybe wars of the future will be of a push button variety, we won’t have to bludgeon one another and tear each other apart like animals, we’ll all just vaporize.  As awful as that may sound, somehow it seems more humane than ripping each other apart with knives, bullets, tanks and bombs.   Weapons keep getting bigger and more powerful; flesh and bone doesn’t stand a chance, but then I guess that’s the point isn’t it?

Yesterday while we gave thanks for our freedom, we should not only think of their sacrifice in our heads, but let it brand our hearts.  To me it isn’t a day to smile and rejoice, we can do that the other 364 days of the year.  My family was deeply affected by war.  My grandfather died in Sicily when my father was only a boy.  He was a sensitive lad and was profoundly affected.  His grief festered throughout his life, the open wound never healing, tarnishing any chance of lasting happiness.  That in turn affected me and is probably why I feel the way I do about war.  In this world it seems to be a necessary evil, humans can’t get along and have become very good at killing one another.  Until the day comes when world peace is not just wishful thinking, I will be angry.  My own father is now gone but I carry the collateral damage that began with a bullet in 1943 and caused by grandfather to bleed to death in a medic’s tent. 
  
Maybe I need to move my grandfather’s portrait that hangs in the hallway upstairs.  Maybe I think about him way to often for my own good.  Our eyes lock every morning as I emerge from the bedroom.  Although we’ve never met, every day I feel his loss.  If he had survived the war he would have passed by now, he was 30 when he signed up, but I would have known him and that would have been swell.  I’ll bet dollars to donuts my father would still be alive as well, his world would have had a little less sadness in it.   Some of us aren’t strong enough to crawl out from under the shadow of war.



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This painting speaks a million words.  
1 Comment

Haul out day...

11/12/2015

4 Comments

 
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I never made it to work yesterday. The call came, our boat was coming out of the water at 11:00 AM so we jumped in the car and headed to South Shore Marine.   No one was moving our baby if I wasn’t there to watch.  It was my first time with our first boat, nothing was cheating me out of the experience and like having a first child, I snapped a memory card load of pictures.  
      
It was bitter sweet to see her hauled.  The weather was glorious, so sunny it heated my back as if branded with an iron.  Although hubby said it would be cold I was too over dressed and I wanted to shed instead of layer my clothing.

It is sad to see the end of the sailing season, especially when this fine weather keeps us lulled into a false sense of permanence.  Today was a great day for a sail, not strip her down to the bare bones and put her on the hard.   When we left the mooring we puttered around the marina before docking at the wharf, checking out the other Nonsuches still bobbing up and down.  We saw a new one to the area, a 30 footer with a blue hull called Isadora,  sail stripped and also waiting to be hauled out.  Nonsuches like to be around others of their kind,  we meet in groups, have an organization all our own and rendezvous each year.  Shawn, the owner of South Shore Marine said that Nonsuch boats make up 10% of the fleet of the marina.  Not bad considering there are only about 975 Nonsuches boats ever built with all lengths totaled.  The 33’s, like our Catalyst, is one out of only 67 ever launched.   Pretty impressive that in the entire world we own a boat that is almost as rare as unicorns. 

After a quick motor around the anchorage, we headed to the wharf to await our turn on the travel lift.  After lunch, she came out of the water mishap free.  They  power washed her bottom to remove the sea growth and then was trucked into position in the boat yard next to the hundreds of vessels already there.  It was like a  sea of white as far as the eye could see, only now and then interspersed with a coloured hull.  I couldn’t help but feel sad for them all, emptied of their interior accoutrements, drained of their fluids and draped with a canvas cover, it give the impression of a  fiberglass graveyard.  All in all it was a very interesting day, the process of removal is well practiced and slick.  
   
Our boat is going to need some serious work this fall and next year before launching.  She’s been crying, leaking fresh water tears into the cabin.  We've been putting down a tray in the cabin to collect the rain until we could get her out of the water to fix the problem.  We need to take off all the stanchions and cabin roof hatches to replace gaskets. Water leaked on the cabin floor and ruined a patch of the teak and holly sole before we bought her and that same drip is haunting us. Now water is coming down behind the galley cupboards and navigation table area.  Age seems synonymous with leaking, been having a few problems myself, but that depends on if I sneeze or not, and then it’s just Depends.   Nothing is serious, it can all be fixed with a bit of hard work.  It's all part of boat ownership.  
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Catalyst is 27 so I can’t expect her to be perfect, but we can do our best so she ages gracefully.  We are the type of people that will take extra special care so she lasts most of our lifetime, until we are too old and crippled to manage her needs, and then we’ll sell her and spend the rest of our days pining for her like a long, lost love.   
 
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Securing the wishbone boom.  
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Lifting out the mast. 
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The mast is removed by a crane and laid out horizontally on the saw horses.  It will be store in a building for winter.  Look up, way up!
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She is hoisted out of the water by the travel lift slings.  My heart was pounding at this point as she swayed and creaked in the heavy canvas straps. 
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Power washing removes all the barnacles and sea life that likes to attach to the hull.  The bottom paint came off as well so that means less work for us to sand it down in the spring before we apply new bottom paint.  
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More sea life on the propeller.  Looks like a dogs breakfast.  The prop will need cleaning and a new tip is to coat it with Udder Cream to prevent future buildup.
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She's on the move to the boat yard, swinging to and fro.  
4 Comments

I'm letting go....

11/9/2015

0 Comments

 
Visit my new FB page where I will be listing some of the items for sale over the coming weeks. Click the link. 
https://www.facebook.com/beadsfantastic/?fref=ts

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In the past I’ve written about my addiction to beads, bling and anything remotely shiny.  As a child my mother called me “crow” and although it suggests a dark aspect to my character, it was a term of endearment, precipitated by my extensive collection of anything with a sheen, from beach glass, cigarette package foil and whatever treasure the earth offer up in a ditch or along the road. 

I hit the mother load when I was five.  At the time we were renting from the guy who owned Thomas Amusements and he stored all the game prizes in a building behind our apartment.  After the exhibition had packed up and left Bridgewater, he’d left a cardboard box beside the road for the garbage filled with various junk, stuffed Teddy bears that had gotten wet and mostly broken items like cheap metal chains and baubles that could only delight a child’s mind.  I pimped up like a modern day rapper with multiple necklaces and bejeweled fingers.  Yo yall, I’m Chrissy from da hood! 

So later in life when I discovered handmade beads I almost lost my mind.  I started ordering them online and made jewelry to sell in the store and I was successful at it, selling most pieces I made.  The entire front of the shop was dedicated to bling, all one of a kind pieces that I put my heart and soul into making.  I was smitten, deeply in love with beads!   They were incredible, so soft and creamy and the light glinted off them like shooting stars.  I’d lay them out on the table and drink them in with my eyes, run my hand over their shapes…my little pretties.  I coveted them, drooled over them, but strangely once they were processed into wearable art, I never wore any of it.  My joy was seeing others purchase and appreciate my handiwork.   Selecting a piece of my jewelry to frame their face, dress up and compliment their outfits was intoxicating!   
  
So I searched for and ordered more and more beads, only happy with the last find.  I needed more, bigger, better, shinier.  I had to have it all, would stay up all hours of the night searching sites for more treasure.   My eyes were bloodshot many mornings heading to work but I was high from the hunt and bagging the latest score.  I lived to go to the post office, parcels were coming in daily and it was like Christmas opening each package to find the object of my desire waiting for me to fulfill its life’s’ purpose.
 
If you remember the “I Love Lucy” show and the chocolate factory scene, where the candy rolled down the conveyor belt so quickly she lost her mind, well that was me.  So many beads were arriving I couldn’t address them right away so they began to pile up in containers.   Dozens, then hundreds all cast aside to wait their time in line. 

I became overwhelmed.  Then I shut down and did nothing other than order more beads.  They were coming in but nothing was going out. That part of it never got dull and the panic that I might miss out on a bead that I couldn’t live without glued me to the computer every night.  I was on a mission, to bankrupt our account and fill the closets with fired glass. 

I don’t think there was a straw that broke the camel’s back and one day I was obsessed and the next not, I was gradually accepting the fact that I’d fallen down the rabbit hole hard and had potential brain damage.  It scared me to think I could lose control like that.  Blue Willow dishes had been a passion but it never reached the obsessive buying like beads had.   

About that time I was realizing that I couldn’t serve two masters successfully.  Rug Hooking came first and I was neglecting my eldest passion.  I looked around the shop and it was obvious the choice I had to make.  One had to go so last in, first out.  Maybe if I’d discovered beads first I would be in that business, but my hooking was suffering as I dedicated most of my time to bling.  If only wool could shine it would be even more perfect; with sequins and blingy threads.  My two passions were splitting me down the middle and pulling me both ways but in the end the beads weighed me down.  The other casualty, my dining room table had suffered long enough.  At any given moment it could have crashed to the floor under the weight of Rubbermaid containers filled with beads.   I stopped inviting people to dinner because it was too much of a hassle to pack it all up.  Beads had isolated me even more than my own introverted ways.   

It’s time to let go so I’m opening a pop-up store coinciding with the Father Christmas Festival.  Sat & Sun Nov. 28th & 29th and Sat & Sun Dec. 5th and 6th.  10:00 – 5:00 each day. 

I’m not marking the beads up to make profit.  I only want my investment back.  There won’t be any tax as it isn’t part of my rug hooking business so this is the perfect time to find unique beads to take your jewelry making to the next level.  It will be sad to see them go but they should be in the hands of someone who will love them and appreciate their beauty, make exquisite bling for the world to see instead of lining the inside of boxes and plastic containers.  

If you know anyone that makes jewelry, please pass this along.  Help me to unload the guilt of my purchasing ways.  Truthfully, I’m almost embarrassed to show you my collection, your eyes might leave their sockets.   Anyone that’s a serious beader will not have seen anything like this at a tradeshow.  I’ve been to them so I know! 

We are setting up for only four days and then it will be over.  I’ve started a Facebook Page dedicated to the beads called BEADS FOR SALE and will post sets on there over the next few months, until everything is gone.  Also, there will be special findings, Swarovski Glass Pearls, Spider Brooches and some of my finished pieces that I thought I would wear but have been forgotten in my jewelry box. All the beads are for sale so if you are interested email or message me privately to set up payment by PayPal, Cash, MC or Visa. 
 
And my hubby is selling off some of this crystals and fossils.  He’s been collecting for decades, beautiful pieces steeped in history.  He calls them Treasures of the Earth.   


My new Facebook page "Beads For Sale" click this link to see some of the beads I will be offering.  
https://www.facebook.com/beadsfantastic/?fref=ts

0 Comments

Dust if you must!

11/5/2015

2 Comments

 
I love this poem and wanted to share.   It should be a daily mantra!  
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2 Comments

Care for your Fraser/Bliss Cutter and blades

11/4/2015

36 Comments

 
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Very Important - Read the directions that come with every machine.
 
Wool cutting machines are for cutting good quality wool fabric. 100% wool is best however 80% wool content would be the lowest you would want to use.  Synthetics will dull your blades – actually ruin them by taking large chunks of metal out of the cutting edge.  Please note, wool can be labeled as 100% wool content however there can be other fibers in it.  Wool with a synthetic fiber will tear harder whereas 100% will rip easily and smoothly, I like to say, tears like a knife through butter!
 
Test the wool by placing a very small piece about the size of a dime in straight bleach. If it is wool, in a few minutes it will foam up and then eventually disappear. If it isn't 100% wool there will be some fabric or remnants left - this is the synthetic content.  Synthetics will leave a white residue on the cutter wheels.  
 
Keep these facts in mind when you lend your machine.
No one will treat your cutter as you would so offer a lesson when you hand it over so they understand the nuances and care needed to keep the machine running smoothly. 
 
When changing the cutter wheels be sure to first loosen the tension and make sure that the number on the wheel is facing out so it can be read. If the wheel is put on backwards the machine will not cut properly.
 
Lubricate with non-detergent, light weight oil every 3 months if it has been used regularly. Keep the machine clean of lint and wool dust. Do not ever use water on the machine or parts (example cutting wet wool) – they will rust. Do not take the machine apart - you may not get it back together properly.
 
Store the machine in a cool, dry place. Do not leave your machine or cutter wheels in a vehicle or car trunk during cooler months. Condensation will rust the parts.
 
It is very important to not have too much tension on your machine. Make sure you have just enough to cut the wool. You may have to adjust the tension with different weights of wool. Too much tension will dull the cutter wheels. Keep just enough on to cut.  If the tension is too tight, you will hear loud clicking noises and possibly smell burning wool.     
 
Have the machine serviced. How often depends on the use. If the machine is not working properly do not continue to use it – this may cause greater problems. Have it serviced or have someone familiar with the machine take a look at it - the solution may be simple. For servicing in Canada contact.
 
     Crawford Purdy
          29 Riverside Drive,
          Truro, N.S. B2N 4G1
          (902) 893-8338


36 Comments

Hooked Rug Show & Sale

11/3/2015

0 Comments

 
Sounds like a fun day! 
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0 Comments

Maybe I'm the card!

11/2/2015

2 Comments

 
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I think I’ve reached a new plateau of curmudgeon. My tolerance for fluff already at a low ebb, now greeting cards have pissed me off!  Not just because of the price that seems to have escalated into the ridiculous, the content as well. Maybe it’s the fact that I wasted 45 minutes reading birthday cards, trying to find one that comes close to my relationship with Shane that fell short, starting out pleasant enough but as the minutes ticked by I found myself reading the cards through cynical eyes, each one a startling disappointment and I was filled with angst when I left the store. 
    
Card shopping is daunting!  Some are so sappy, so full of fanciful notions with unachievable perfection that they read like a eulogy.  We all tend to martyr the dead, all flaws and bad habits vanish immediately with their last breath, so it’s perfectly acceptable to design sympathy cards to sooth the souls of the recently bereaved, with exaggerated truths, let them see only the best in their loved one, but a birthday card?  "Blossom with joy and fragrance of happiness." What does that even mean?

Then there are the cards that make the receiver out to be divine, perfect in every way. Sorry but I haven't met one single person in my 56 years that would qualify as perfect or even close to it, except maybe a new born baby, full of hope and promise.  Maybe my mother set the standard by never telling me I was perfect.  That didn’t mean she didn’t love me, I think she was realistic.   Maybe that’s why I’m truthful today, it’s the only option I know.
  
I love my son and husband, but rainbows don't shoot out of their derrieres, the moon doesn’t glow for their benefit nor does a day revolve on their axis.   I don’t need to suggest they are flawless entities, always doing the right things, say something profound every time they open their mouth as nirvana glints in their eye.  They are no more perfect than the rest of us just because I love them.  When angel wings sprout out their backside, they walk on water, solve world hunger or cure cancer; I’ll glorify them with exaggerated Hallmark accolades.

As parents we can be proud and filled with love for our progeny, adore our spouses, grandparents and any acquaintance worth a $7.50-$9.50 card, but golly, water down the over the top praises and make the messages real!  We’re not all inventing penicillin or winning the Nobel Prize so stop with the insinuations that we are all so bloody perfect.  We’re ordinary people for goodness sake, don’t blow us out of proportion, and besides, some of us have big enough heads as it is!  We don’t need to be told that we are “all that” all the time.  I don’t know about anyone else, but I can’t live up to all the crap words they throw at us?   Give me something simple, less wordy and generalized to fit the masses so there is some semblance of truth in the message.  I know when I receive one of those cards that tell me I'm the reason for their  happiness I think to myself, what a load of crap/waste of money that was, and throw it in the bin, but if you give me a fun card that tells me you care with a bit of humour, I can take you to a drawer in my secretary and haul out every last one of them.  It's difficult enough for me to be in charge of my own happiness, I don't need the pressure of being responsible for yours as well.  And probably what all this angst boils down to is having to pay $10.00 for an archaic tradition so as not to be viewed as a cheap so-in-so and then having to doctor it up to say something meaningful. 

Reading the greetings that dripped syrupy goo, it drove my blood sugar over the top. I usually avoid the apple-polishing, bullshit toting ones with the sun rising or setting on their life, flattering to a fault type of card for a joke one.  Sometimes a light chuckle is all you need to get the point across, make a loved one smile while splashing out that warm fuzzy feeling.  You like or love them enough to spend a fortune on a piece of folded paper sporting a pretty picture, but you don’t have go over the top with the verse. 

At my age, I don’t have time to waste, yet I spent three quarters of an hour perusing the poor card selection at the local drugstore.  They were either too syrupy or too insulting, another trend becoming more prevalent that turns me cold.  Although I have a dark sense of humour, some of the cards went too far and made me say “Yikes!” out loud. The bites were nasty, insuring the need for an antibiotic to ease the dripping infection. I don’t care who you are, deep down those cards have to cut, scratching the varying thicknesses of security veneer.  I’ll confess, I might have more than my share of wiry chin sprigs and old man eyebrows, but if I received a card that pointed it out, I’d be crushed, never again leaving the bathroom with my new BFF, the tweezers.  
  
There was very little happy medium to choose from and none applied to my relationship with my son.   I ended up with the best of the heap to use as a cover for the note I wrote him that was simple, truthful and from the heart.  I’m not afraid to tell my boy I love him because he is the most important person in my life, but I can’t make him out to be something he’s not, a perfect, idyllic angel, who does no wrong and vice versa and he couldn't do that for me.  Being close as family and working together, we see each others warts, we don’t point them out but we don’t sugar coat it either.  We are who we are, special to one another but not wonders of the world that stand above everyone else. 

I learned this from my mother.  Every time there was a scuffle in the school yard, or trouble in class, she believed it took two to tango and both parties got blamed.  Same at home.  If one of us was crying, two got punished.  She never judged unfairly or took sides, she viewed us as kids, full of beans and vinegar.  We were never perfect little angels like the kids next door, who never did anything wrong and were defended by their mother as if their feathers were showing. 

Maybe I’m a hard nut, but I don’t believe in unrealistic praise.  Being told you did a great job is fine, if you did the job, and it was truly great.  They say flattery will get you everywhere but for me, if I know I didn’t do my best, flattery makes me wonder what you’re up too.  Accolades have to be rightfully earned.  If I was a teacher, I wouldn’t be handing out stars to all the kids for the sake of handing out stars, I’d be given my pink slip and be out pounding the pavement for a new career. 

I’m a rigid sort of gal.  Got the feet planted firmly, don’t hug trees or exaggerate, I’ve said it a million times.  If I tell you “I love you” it means something because I don’t throw the words around for the sake of hearing my own voice.  I can’t say the sun came up this morning because my son is in my life, although he does make my world all the more brighter.  For me it’s all in the layout of the words. 

This is the verse I wrote in his card. 

Son, you are the apple of my eye,
and not just any apple,
you are a Gravenstein and everyone knows
how much I love a Gravenstein! 



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    Christine Little has been ranked #5​ out of the 60 top rug hooking bloggers by Rug Hooking Magazine!

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    Max Anderson, Australia, recipient of my Nova Scotia Treasures rug.  An award of excellence for promoting Canada through his writing.  
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