impossible from the start
Hello my awesomesauce stitching fiends! This is our penultimate flannel sewing post! Yay! Make sure to check out the results of my particular project. A perfect shirt. Pretty much. Almost perfect. I made one error. Can you spot it?
A re-cap. So far I’ve posted the supply list, a bit about what to expect in undertaking this project, and a link to the the Flickr Group (please consider posting your progress!). We traced and cut the pattern in our tracing medium, and pre-treated our fabrics. We applied interfacing and painstakingly cut and marked all our shirt pieces. We then created our pockets, made the sleeve placket, and attached both yokes. Two days ago we put together the front placket and collar stand.
Today we are messing with one of the most difficult seams – the flat-felled shoulder seam. It actually isn’t hard to do, it’s just hard to do and have it look perfect. After we sew this up we have the much-simpler side seam, and then the narrow hem.
Let’s get started! Remember – I am available to support via email, blog comment, and Skype! I will Skype support any stitcher through the months of November and December 2013.Read More
My grandfather is dying. He will be gone very soon. My mother is flying to be there, and with her family, first thing tomorrow. I am staying here because I cannot afford to travel. And because my life is kind of a mess. Being broke is not really the worst, it just means I have less breathing room in some ways, and that includes plane fare and food out and a rental car or whatever.
He is my last remaining grandparent.
My grandfather was one of the first people I knew. I grew up with him until I was eight. He was very loving as a grandfather, having been a hardworking (and absentee-via-the-workplace) father. He and my grandmother were married to eachother for an epoch. They loved eachother very much although they were also alcoholic wrecks in a lot of ways. But they were MY wrecks and I love them more than I can say!
We lost my grandmother almost eleven years ago, when I was just barely a parent. At the time Ralph and I were just transitioning from a two-income no-kid life so we flew down there, down to Southern California. Would you believe it, my bosses at the time gave me a lot of grief for staying away for more than two days? I have not spent one moment regretting taking that time to be with my family while my grandmother died (one week).
I remember right after my grandmother passed, on the fourth of July, going out to breakfast with my mom, my grandpa, my husband and infant daughter… maybe one of my aunts. I was amazed to be with my grandfather when he’d only a few minutes ago become a widower. That is still a pretty intense memory.
I am the only grandchild to have given him great-grandchildren. My grandfather loved that I gave my son a Swedish name as his mother was Swedish – born there.
I am going to be thinking about my grandfather a bit and writing about him.
I can feel my husband watching me, wondering how I am feeling.
Sometimes I think my present life circumstances are so overwhelming it is amazing I am functioning, and even functioning with some grace and dignity. Yes, I am a busy woman and I work hard. But there are some things I did not ask or plan for and that I cannot control or stop happening, or even slow down.
I am starting to think that when stuff like this happens, I’m *supposed* to feel overwhelmed.
“When you can do nothing, what can you do?”
I am on the bike and it is cold, and it is dark. I am wearing my new SWEATERPANTS. They are amazing because they are a poisonous green-yellow and they are wool and so warm. From the waist-up I’m cold because that’s mostly cotton. Being cold and sweating at the same time. Ugh.
I don’t miss my volunteer work for nothing, unless I’m out of town. It is so dark and my headlamp is faint and I almost hit a curb. That would have sucked! I am cold cold cold and it feels like it’s taking me forrreeeeever to get where I’m going (it’s not, though).
I walk up the hill. I am on edge. A large dog, a goddamned HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES, steps into the road ahead, a silhouette. When I pass the darkened yard he’s receded into I let out a long, surrendered breath, the fear of sharp-teeth and violent attack. But: nothing.
I pass by. Cars out with their lights and thinking of their warmth, presumably they have heaters, and I am cheered.
small stone #21
My child is angry,
hiding under the cheap fleece blanket.
He doesn’t want to talk.
I don’t blame him.
small stone #22
“You’ve gone through a lot,”
“But your eyes are clear,”
Hello my awesomesauce stitching fiends! We are still working away on our flannel shirt. Make sure to check out the results of my particular project. TOTES ADORABLE.
A re-cap. So far I’ve posted the supply list, a bit about what to expect in undertaking this project, and a link to the the Flickr Group (please consider posting your progress!). We traced and cut the pattern in our tracing medium, and pre-treated our fabrics. We applied interfacing and painstakingly cut and marked all our shirt pieces. Last session we created our pockets, made the sleeve placket, and attached both yokes.
Today we are tackling topstitching and we are going to see just how accurate you were with cutting and staystitching (she smiles, sweetly, like a stitching she-Demon). We will be applying the patch pockets and creating the front placket, collar, and collar stand. We will be working with interfacing together so get that out!
At about 52 images this is a beefy post. So, let’s get started! Remember – I am available to support via email, blog comment, and Skype!Read More
An update – a few photos of one of my favorite clients, my son, in his custom-made flannel shirt.
We are more or less halfway through our first round of the flannel shirt sew-a-long. If you’re starting to want to make one of these for the holidays, you still have time! Read-up on the supply list and go from there. The second sew-a-long starts December 1st.
My mom, son and I are in the car and there’s some tension. Difficult subject matter. Not even something I’ve written about in this space. OTHER, difficult, stuff. My son and my mother are ganging up on me. I’ m not too upset. But, I gotta remember to take those deep breaths.
We’re bringing a plate of barbecue dinner to a friend. “How did you rate?” my mom asks my friend as we pull up to the coffeestand window to make the delivery. What my mom means is, What Did My Friend Do to deserve my homecooking.
My mom doesn’t like to cook and shop much any more. She likes to spend time with my kids, and putter about her house painting. She is like a little hobbit in there, although she ventures out to eat at the pub or go to the hardware store. We try to bring my mom a plate of dinner a few times a week. A few days ago: a delicious chili flavored with too much tabasco, deliciously piquant. To compensate for the heat: a cornbread sweet enough to be cake.
I’m thinking about my mom because she’s about to go through some rough stuff. Her father lies in a hospital, languishing. He’s probably going to go home for hospice care. It probably won’t be long. I know my mom can afford to get down there and I’m pretty sure she’ll go. I wish I could be there too. In fact it hurts not to be able to go. I like to be there for the big stuff, if people let me. I try not to think about the fact I won’t be there. It is too painful to think about.
My grandpa used to call me “Rotten Peach”. He brings it up whenever I see him.
Life goes on. Scrubbing pots and pans and making hot coffee. We let Bun-Bun the rabbit out most times we are home. He is a MANIAC, I am not even kidding that all he wants to do is eat treats. He has his regular food but he comes crashing into the kitchen and will straight-up jump directly into the garbage can to find delicious things. He is a monster and I am not joking. I hold him against my chest and put my face in his fur and feel like crying. He is so perfect and soft and smells so lovely and is such a peaceable thing.
Tomorrow we’ve a series of appointments – then Nels and I are heading out to Phoenix’s school to cook bread pudding with the kids at Phee’s school.
Life is a little sharp around the edges but I take a lot of comfort in participating in the human race.Read More
small stone #20
in a fog.