craft – Page 5 – Crosspatch

Disappearing menswear

Problem… he will creep into my bedroom and take my lovely feather pillow in crisp white linen, to sit on!

I have recently had a little problem which I hope to have solved, with a little judicious stitchery.

The 13 year old is on holiday from school this week, when he isn’t at school or asleep he is generally in his room on his computer playing games either alone or with “virtual friends “ who might be anywhere in the waking world. He sits on a computer chair which he finds less than comfortable so he will creep into my bedroom and take my lovely feather pillow in crisp white linen, to sit on!
As you can imagine, I’m not impressed by having to sleep on a pillow which has been in close proximity to a 13 year old boy’s rarely washed, and flatulent nether regions only minutes before I retire to bed and for probably the preceding 12 hours.

My solution is a feather cushion of his very own to sit on. I had one in my stash, but no cover for it.
Looking in my fabric stash, apart from my check shirts which are not negotiable, I have very little which isn’t rather too girly for a boy who does not countenance anything which might blight the tender shoots of his pubescent masculinity.
I found a shirt in cream and blue stripes, one of my early mistakes when buying shirts, it is striped not checked; two pairs of his father’s pajama bottoms, worn out at the seat but still plenty of wear in the legs (what does that tell you about my Dearest?) and a pair of his father’s boxer shorts size small from when he used to smoke 60 a day and had the hips of a racing snake, long time past.
I had seen the disappearing nine patch block but had not yet had the opportunity to use it, given the proportion of fabrics I had ( 3;4;4;1) it seemed a good choice.

I used the darker check from the boxer shorts for the centre square I’d only need 8 4” squares. The cream shirt and blue checked PJ’s for the sides and corner squares, 32 of each, and the striped pair of PJ’s for the outer border.
Make a nine patch, press it and slice it up again and across the centre in both directions to produce 4 blocks.

I tried two different placements of the resultant squares, so the two sides of the cushion are subtly different. It will need a zip, no doubt it will need washing frequently, and probably an inner cover to help keep the cushion clean. The 13 year old’s room is mainly blue and cream so this will blend in fairly well, by which I mean there is nothing here for him to take offence at, he may accept it without too much persuasion. We won’t need to consider “what people might think”, or any of those other concerns so particular to 13 year old’s.

Rose Hip Syrup

My Beloved having been prickled and scratched, insisted we went home before we found ourselves benighted.

Following my recent successful forays into hedgerow gathering for wine I have been considering what else might be lurking in the undergrowth which I might make use of. Rose hips kept coming to mind and eye. I have noticed as I drive around the country roads that the wild dog roses which can be found flowering abundantly in the hedgerows in spring are currently sporting bright red and orange hips on almost naked stems, waving at me in the autumn sunshine.

red, orange, carnelian, crimson, so many different shades

Whilst the thought of making them into wine appealed, I have a vivid happy memory of rose hip syrup. When I was a very small girl, back in the far distant 1960’s my mother gave my sister and I a teaspoon of rose hip syrup occasionally, probably through the winter to ward off coughs and sneezes. Perhaps she had happy memories of rose hip syrup herself being a child of the war years when rose hip syrup was made from hedgerow pickings and given free to children, because it is an excellent source of Vitamin C,( 20 times as much as oranges) which would have been a scarce resource in war time when citrus fruits were unavailable and leafy vegetables seasonal.

Then a blog I follow, lovely greens did a blog post on making elderberry syrup, (Hmmmm)… decision made, Rose hip syrup it is! I waited a few days of windy and rainy evenings, till we were blessed with a calm clear day, and went off to my usual gathering spot; a cycle path on the Lune estuary near Glasson Dock. We found rose hips in abundance, but the sun was going down. We only managed to pick half of the amount I needed by the time the sun set at the mouth of the estuary. My Beloved having been prickled and scratched, insisted we went home before we found ourselves benighted. As we walked briskly back to the car, on our right towards the west the sky was lit up in shades of coral and gold by the sun, already set, while on our left the darkening sky was lit by a beautiful full moon rising over a copse of beech trees. I had my camera with me but was being rushed back to the car in case it went so dark we got lost!!!

As we drove away from the car park we were passed by my sister and niece, waving enthusiastically they were arriving for a leisurely stroll in the dusk, a moonlit walk, how lovely, Dearest! Do you think we should send out a search party or might they have found their way home?

So thanks for the idea Lovely Greens http://www.lovelygreens.com, and thanks for the recipe Girl interrupted eating http://girlinterruptedeating.wordpress.com

Rosehip Syrup Recipe
400g of rosehips
1 pint of water
100g of sugar
1. Simmer the rosehips in the water for 15 minutes, mash and return to a simmer for a further 15 minutes
2. Strain through muslin to remove the fruit pulp
3. Stir in the sugar and warm over a gentle heat
4. Pour into sterilised jars

Lonely Planet have let the secret out

In autumn, the trees are laden with purple fruits and roadside stalls appear advertising damsons for sale.

The last week in September I saw damsons for sale in my local Supermarket but at extortionate price, £4.99 a kilo, I ask you? As with my previous hedgerow makes it’s not the right thing simply to buy my ingredients in the sterile environment of a supermarket, I want to know where they were picked, to pick my own if I can. I wanted to make some damson gin for Christmas and perhaps some damson wine too, so I persuaded my Dearest that we needed to take a road trip up to the Lyth Valley over the County boundary in Cumbria.

The Lyth Valley has made the Lonely Planet beautiful world list. The Lonely Planet has published a new book to showcase beauty from across the globe,they describe the valley thus: “The unspoilt Lyth Valley is tucked in a hidden corner of Cumbria, where trees are laden with fruit and rolling hills are the most magnificent green.”

This hidden corner of Cumbria is famed for its damsons. In autumn, the trees are laden with purple fruits and roadside stalls appear advertising damsons for sale. That’s where we were headed; a stall we often pass and which I am always happy to see still trading. Up close it’s just a shack, but the produce on sale is good fresh locally grown goods.

We got the last of her damsons ripe to the point of no return. She advised me to use them up immediately, so I did, a brew of wine and a jar of damsons steeping in gin were put to bed that very evening. It may have cost me more to drive up to the Lyth Valley to buy my damsons but a glorious sunny autumn afternoon in the Lyth Valley is priceless.

Damsons were originally imported from Damascus for their dye, and given the name ‘damascene’ – later shortened to damson. ( Prunus domestica subsp. insititia, or sometimes Prunus insititia), also archaically called the “damascene”) some say it was introduced by the Crusaders but others claim the Romans brought them, and there were damson stones found in archaeological digs of Roman York.

The proprietor, had a wonderful elderberry tree hanging heavily in fruit, she told me many people had asked her what she planned to do with the fruit to which her reply was “absolutely nothing” she said I could help myself… if only I’d known a couple of weeks earlier.

Can you make it waterproof?

an impossible task, she needed a new bag for College and she knew exactly what she wanted, the problem was it needed to be waterproof and it wasn’t.

The 17 year old set me an impossible task, she needed a new bag for College and she knew exactly what she wanted, the problem was it needed to be waterproof and it wasn’t. Knowing how important it is for her to have things which look right, which have credibility, I undertook to “try” to make it waterproof.

First step was to buy some proofing spray in the hope that we could give it a waterproof coating. My Dearest innocently believed he could simply buy the most expensive waterproofing spray from one of those outdoor activity shops, and spray it on, and Presto! It would cast water like a duck’s back. Ha! Great idea… two applications later no sign of it casting water.

The lining; a leopard which will change it's spots — The lining; a leopard which will change it’s spots

I’ve always been a greater doubter than him so I already had plan B in my mind. If I could not make the outside waterproof then I needed to create a waterproof barrier between the outer layer and the contents of the bag.
We visited a number of shops to find a fabric with waterproof properties but found none. The internet is so wonderful, found what we wanted, ordered and arrived in a week and cost less than the diesel would have cost to seek what we wanted out of town.

I wanted the bag to look as close to what had been coveted and purchased at great expense, well great expense to one who has so little to spend. I determined to unpick the lining, use that as a pattern to cut the inner lining, and then line the lining, stitching the whole thing back together, so the inner lining is invisible.

I even made a little waterproof pocket for the back pocket which might otherwise soak up water from the outer and would have been the wrong side of the waterproof lining.It is almost exactly as it was before, I defy anyone to see any difference.

I just hope it works, because poor girl has a long a weary commute each day on bus and foot, if we have a wet winter she will have a very soggy wet rucksack and damp contents, her art work will not be improved by water. Let’s all pray for clement weather, cold but DRY.

Pass me the BIG glasses

I’m not sure what it says about him, or me for that matter

So yes he did make me some labels for my lovely luscious wine , I’m not sure what it says about him, or me for that matter,(I did not model for the label that I can assure you) but it’s bottled, and “cellared”. I may give it a try at Christmas, or perhaps I should leave it till after Lent, as I will be abstaining again in Lent next year.

Harvest time

Having developed a yen for hedgerow harvesting; making good things out of my wild gatherings, I have begun another wine brew.

Having developed a yen for hedgerow harvesting; making good things out of my wild gatherings, I have begun another wine brew. A chance conversation with an expert brewer of wine set me off on a mission to brew a perfect red wine. Elderberry, blackberry and something else, a secret other berry, not strictly in season but easily available frozen, in various proportions to give perfume and body and tannins, will it be awful or perfect? It’s nearly ready to bottle now but it won’t be ready to drink till Easter, or maybe I’ll store it till next Christmas.

Picked in my garden, if only there was enough.

The first thing to gather were the elderberries, back to the spot where we picked the flowers in early summer, someone had been there before us so we struggled a little to find them plentiful and ripe, and equally not wanting to strip the trees bare we spent a little longer picking a few here and a few there. Washed and picked from the stems, they were frozen, with the intention that the freezing process would help break down the cell structure of the berries to release juice, colour and tannins.

Next were the blackberries, these took two days to pick, we went out to pick and were rained off, being a hardy Northern girl a little rain does not bother me, this was torrential rain, coming down like stair rods, the kind of rain which batters your head, runs through your hair and down your neck; even I admitted defeat.

straining the brewing liquid off the fruit.

The next day was bright and breezy, a perfect picking day, we still got scratched and nettled, but the berries were beautifully ripe and juicy.
The berries were briefly boiled to break down and sterilise, then soaked in a bucket with water overnight before the wine yeast, and nutrient were added and mashed for several days. Then the liquid was strained off the berries, the grape concentrate was added, and put in a demijohn to brew. The liquid fermented vigorously for a week but slowed to a gentle tick, and will be racked off the lees this weekend, cleared and bottled.

Perhaps my Dearest will make me a label for my bottles if I ask him nicely.

Sunshine and Shadow

Imagine it in red and white, a striking alternative to the traditional double Irish chain. Perhaps it would work in black and red if you have a Goth in the household, or black and neon Brights if you want a stunner.

This is something I have been tinkering about with for months; I’m making a scrap quilt from all my Liberty lawns. I have many small pieces sometimes a quarter or half yard many with print errors which need to be carefully cut around, so scrappy quilts lend themselves to such a collection. All my Liberty prints are roll ends and misprints from the factory shop, but for a project like this they are perfect.

This block makes a wonderful scrap quilt but can just as easily be adapted to use only two fabrics or a carefully chosen mix of your favourite palette, the only stipulation I would make is that you need lights and darks to ensure clear definition, if you choose fabrics which are too close in shade or tone you will lose the pattern.

It would work with pastels on white or ivory, for a baby quilt; or two plains for the team colours of any keen supporter, claret and blue for a West Ham supporter perhaps. Imagine it in red and white, a striking alternative to the traditional double Irish chain. Perhaps it would work in black and red if you have a Goth in the household, or black and neon Brights if you want a stunner.

I’ll explain how it’s made and give the dimensions when it is finished, but there is a long way to go yet; now that the nights are drawing in and the days getting colder and wetter my garden needs to be “put to bed “, and then the quilting can begin.

Another successful raid

the ugliest white skirt imaginable, which isn’t even in my size, ruffles in all the wrong places, an asymmetric hem, down at the back and up at the front.

Another trip to my local charity shop, I’m light very little cash but I have 2 weenie little plaid shirts (age3) 50p each, and a ladies plaid shirt in a pretty lavender and cool green which will pretty up my planned plaid quilt with some more feminine colours.

A beautiful Monsoon Blouse for £2, and the ugliest white skirt imaginable, which isn’t even in my size, ruffles in all the wrong places, all so badly gathered and stitched in place, and an asymmetric hem, which hung down at the back and rose up at the front, a real horror. £1.50
Why? You may well ask, although the skirt looked rather sad it was made of fine cotton lawn, and was lined in the same fabric, and edged in the some nice quality Guipure lace.

The skirt was a supermarket brand, the materials were good but it was badly made, and badly designed. Who on earth wants a ruffle around the hips adding inches at the very place you want it to skim? And why stitch on and edge the ruffle in polyester thread which either was cream or has yellowed so making the whole skirt look grubby. The one thing you want from white clothing is the fresh look of pure white, grubby white will never be a good look.

So I bought it to cut up, and for £1.50 and a little work I got more than a yard of fine white cotton lawn, not suitable for patchwork, but perfect for foundation piecing, and linings where you don’t want what is underneath to show through; a white zip, a spare button, and 3 and a half yards of good white lace, which I’m sure I’ll find a use for. All I threw out was the ruffle.

Lastly a completed embroidery, of an Amish scene with quilts! All I need now is to find a suitable frame for it, and it can hang in my workroom, 50p and there was another canvas in the bag with crewel wool, I might give that to a friend who does embroideries, as I doubt whether I will ever find time to stitch it myself.

A new use for something old and tatty

The fabric covering the stool was torn and rotten, the padding had disintegrated.

Bedroom stool which had seen better days

This began as a project when I was studying paint effects; I took two pairs of beech legs which had originally been bought to make a foot stool, and transformed them into “mahogany” ones using paint and glaze. The finished article needed to be completed for my end of term assessment, and I didn’t have the necessary materials to complete the footstool. However I had just redecorated my bedroom and had some fabric spare which matched the Toile De Jouy wallpaper and in Dad’s Garage stood unused and unwanted this Lloyd loom bedroom stool in that awful Germoline pink which had been popular in the 1930’s ( I suspect it may have belonged to my Grandmother) The fabric covering the stool was torn and rotten, the padding had disintegrated but the box itself was in good order, Dad sawed the original legs off close to the body so that the new legs could be screwed on in their place. I painted it cream inside and out, even though I knew little of it would be seen, I didn’t want any Germoline pink showing through.

The body of the box was covered in a thin polyester wadding, to give it a padded effect, this was glued in place. I then cut a piece of fabric so that the main pattern image was centred on the front of the box, and pieced the back to make it fit round the box. I stapled the join in place as a temporary fix till I could find a curved needle to stitch up the join, ( I’ve just discovered recently that I never did stitch the back properly, tut, tut.)

The top needed a new padding, one and a half inch upholstery foam cut to fit, ( I made a template by upending the box on a sheet of newspaper and drawing round it to make a pattern). This was glued onto the box lid, and because it is blue and would show through the ivory fabric, I covered it first in a piece of old linen sheet. A staple gun was needed for this bit. I had then covered the lid with another piece of fabric bearing the main pattern image and staple gunned it in place, the plan was to buy some upholstery trimming to finish it, it would be glued in place using a glue gun.

The snag was that we don’t have a local supplier of said trimming, and the box was made long before I was in the habit of shopping on line so it languished incomplete for years. During that time it was rather ill used, and the top became grubby and the raw edges ragged, so by the time I found the trimming I wanted the top needed a wash. On a positive note I realised it needed a tassel of some kind to raise the lid without touching the fabric, so now that I have deconstructed the top to wash the fabric I can incorporate a tassel in the finished article. Realising the tassel will probably get grubby too, I can attach it on the inside of the lid rather than the outside so I can make it detachable.

GRRRRR!! problem….now I have washed the top its a different colour to the bottom, now what? Do I take off and wash the bottom, or find some different fabric for the top? all suggestions gratefully received.

Pink sheep

Pink Sheep! Yes I thought my eyes deceived me too, I insisted my Dearest pulled over, I had to get a photograph of this, no-one was going to believe it without.

We drove over Kirkstone Pass, the route known as The Struggle into the Ullswater Valley, I can easily understand why it was called The Struggle, so steep and for miles; at times a gradient of 1 in 4, a fully laden pack horse, or person for that matter would really struggle to take that route, and it’s no wonder there is an Inn at the top, you’d need to stop and rest. The Kirkstone Pass Inn stands close to the summit of the pass. Formerly an important coaching inn, It is the third highest public house in England.

The BMW took it in her stride, although my Dearest, being a nervous passenger did not, I get the feeling it was a bit of a white knuckle ride for him, particularly when I was driving close to the edge of sheer drops. We drove through Patterdale while my Dearest recounted his usual tales of mis-spent youth, toga parties in the snow, on New Year’s camping trips, swimming in the lake so early in the morning that the mist had yet to lift from the Lake. It may sound romantic to the young; I can’t help but to shiver. A hotel room for me please, hot shower, all the necessary facilities.

Spring must have come very late to Ullswater, I found a Rose Bay Willow Herb in its first flush and picture perfect, elsewhere in the world it is already setting seed and looking ragged, it was more May than the last days of July. We walked by the Lake in the sunshine, considered whether we could run a bed and breakfast here in Glenridding, and decided we could not, it might be a very precarious business, no matter how beautiful it is when the sun shines or the snow falls, it also rains…a lot.

Glenridding has a special place in my heart, it was the place my Dearest and I went to on our second date, to Aire Force, a famous waterfall just north of Glenridding, then to the St Patrick’s boat landing for a celebrated bacon sandwich, as we left the sun was low and the trees were bare, it was a snowy January. My favourite piece of Beethoven (Piano Concerto no.5 in E-flat major Op73, Adagio Un Poco Mosso) was playing on the CD player, bliss.

This time, no Beethoven but Pink Sheep! Yes I thought my eyes deceived me too, I insisted my Dearest pulled over, I had to get a photograph of this, no-one was going to believe it without.

A whole flock of pink sheep. As we pulled in another couple of walkers were stopping to photograph them on iphone, I carry a Canon 350 DSLR when out walking. I do sometimes wonder if I’d find it easier just to have an iphone, but I digress, Pink Sheep! Have you ever seen anything as sweet as these pink sheep?

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