DC Notes

Back from a whirlwind, action-packed four days in Washington, DC. And it was HOT. High spots:

We toured the U. S. Capitol, courtesy of Caro's Peace Corps friend R. J., who works for a Congressman.

Great tiled floors in the Capitol. Never knew that before.

The ladies of Seneca Falls--Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucretia Mott, and Susan B. Anthony. Nice to see them honored in this way in the Capitol Rotunda.

We did lots of walking and gawking. This door below was on a house near the Textile Museum, which was a very cool place to spend an afternoon. And not nearly as crowded as the Smithsonian on a holiday weekend.

We paid a visit to this creature, Lord Cameron, who hangs out in the window of a Connecticut Avenue consignment shop (Tonya--just about directly across the street from Wake Up Little Suzie!) There's something repulsively intriguing about Lord Cameron, and he surely has a face only his mother could love.


And I DID get to enjoy that pitcher of sangria with Will and Caro, at Jazz in the Garden. Lovely.

Honky Tonk Quilting

All the Serendipity foolishness this spring has taken me away from finishing the first project of the year, working name Wonky Quilt. I've decided to build on a name suggestion of a blog commenter and officially call it Honky Tonk. It's been sitting, pinned and ready to quilt, for weeks and weeks. In the flush of enthusiasm and drive, drafting off last weekend's retreat, I decided to get going on the quilting, even if I can only sandwich in a few minutes a day.

And so, I've gotten going on it. The usual style of quilting wins out once again, and I've decided to work with several thread colors which appear in the quilt: black, forest green, olive, orange, and maybe some turquoise. We'll see how it all develops. A loose goal is to have it quilted by my Glen retreat next month.

It would be nice to have some show and tell at the Glen. I haven't finished a quilt of any size in TWO YEARS. This the true horror of a full-time day job.

And even with all this drive and resolve, this upcoming will be a non-quilting weekend, but for a happy reason. My son and I are taking off at the crack of dawn Friday for several days in Washington, DC, visiting Caro. It's been five months since we've seen her and it's high time.

If all goes well, tomorrow evening this time I'll be relaxing with sangria at a Jazz in the Garden concert at the National Gallery of Art Sculpture Garden. With both of my kids! Back Monday.

Jones Mansion Retreat

Coming down from the quilt retreat high...

I'm sleep-deprived from all the midnight-oil-burning and all I want to do is sew. Which is the one thing I can't do because I have to put in an 8 hour day at work. So frustrating, but I've had great things to think about all day.

I spent the weekend in the very charming Mineral Point, Wisconsin.



Our retreat was at the Jones Mansion, a century old house built by a businessman who lived in it only about six years before he passed away in 1912. After his death, the home was maintained and cleaned, fully furnished, but no one lived there for nearly 70 years. What a story.

It would be nice to say that the current owners bought it intact, but along the way there were owners who stripped the house, selling the custom-made Arts and Crafts carpets and furnishings along with the first edition 19th century books. Still and all, the house retains many original elements, like a hand-painted mural in the dining room,


beautifully tiled working fireplaces,


massive old sinks in the bathrooms, and tons and tons of old law books and other dusty tomes. And of course, handmade quilts on every bed.



And that old house smell. If that were bottle-able, I'd be in line with my checkbook.

This was the backdrop to a terrific weekend with friends. We all got lots and lots done, and found time for field trips to quilt shops, historic sites, and antique shops too. Much great food, much laughter. I spent a lot of time prowling the house and looking through books and cabinets and cupboards.


What I got accomplished: my Serendipity is together in one piece--the inner part at least--but I was stopped in my tracks by my own stupidity. As in not bringing one of the fabrics I needed for the Serendipity border. I also got several mini blocks made for my exasperatingly character-building mini project. The scale is hard to see, but these blocks will finish to 6 inches. Arrgh.


I was sailing along with the minis until I began a block that had pieces needing to be cut 1 3/16" by 11/16". At that point enough was enough. I knew I had hit the wall and I picked up my knitting. Too much thinking was making me tired.

A bit of show and tell. The first two quilts were the official retreat project, a quilt called De Vine Shoo Fly, by Judy Hasheider. Judy was part of our retreat, and participants could make this or not, as they chose.

Interesting contrast between the two--the creative spark takes us all in lots of directions.




This one below blew me away. It was made as a part of a guild challenge but Karla didn't care for the challenge fabrics. She used token amounts but pretty much obliterated the designated fabrics and went her own way. Hope Karla's watching her back because the quilt police probably have a warrant out for her even as we speak.


More pictures here, if you're interested.

Champlitte

I used to work almost entirely in a traditional vein, and I love-love-love historical accuracy. (Yes, in my little world there's always something to be anal about...) I wanted to make a wall quilt that looked really early and with that in mind, collected fabric with "the look" for a couple years.

Lots of time was spent poring over historical quilt books--and how glad I am to have bought the ones I bought. So many of them went out of print very fast.

This quilt was the result. (Disclaimer--it IS square. The angle of the photo is what makes it look kind of trapezoidal in shape.) The center square and corner blocks are rust and buttery cream toile that was a gift brought back from Paris by a former co-worker at The Quilt Shop Which Will Remain Nameless. As I recall, the toile came from Le Rouvray.

There was a point when I was piecing it that I started to fear that it was just too much of a color conglomeration. It got shelved for a while. But then it was finished as a part of a New Year's resolution to move some UFOs into finished status. And conglomeration or not, I decided I liked it. I called it Champlitte, which is the name of the town in eastern France where some ancesters originated. To my great surprise it took a ribbon at our local guild quilt show that spring.

I rotate a group of wall quilts for display in my front hallway, and this is the one that always says Spring to me.

Well friends, eat your hearts out! I'm heading out after work Wednesday for a four-day quilt retreat with seven friends. We'll be in Mineral Point, Wisconsin, which is the site of some of the earliest settlement in the state. Historical sites, galleries, and cool shops abound. I am absolutely jumping out of my skin with anticipation.

This evening will be spent packing and baking. Of course, food is always a big part of the whole quilt retreat scenario.

Back Sunday night. Happy weekend all--and what fun to say that on TUESDAY.

Recapping

This past was a pretty berzerko week, with three library meetings to attend and a bit more than just the usual insanity. The capper of it all was Friday when I came home to do the noontime puppywalk and came upon a car fully engulfed in flames right in front of our next-door neighbor's house. About the time I parked at the top of my driveway, the gas tank of the burning car blew and it was like evening news video of the streets of Baghdad--black smoke, flying glass, blackened, pitted pavement, and the whole bit.

The fire trucks arrived and the firemen put out the fire easily enough, but it was a load of excitement for our little neighborhood. Burned out car carcasses are not a normal sight around here. I'm happy to say that no one was injured. The burned vehicle was a floral delivery van and all the flowers were safely rescued as well.

Hope it was a good Mother's day for all. I had an early morning call, from Toronto, from my firstborn. She and her BF just arrived back yesterday from a bit of adventure travel. She's been posting some pictures during the trip, but it was good to hear her voice and to get some of the details. They say that your children will take you places you never thought you'd go. Some of this travel is vicarious, but it sure is interesting...

And my second-born arrived this afternoon, bouquet of flowers in hand. He came bearing new music for my iPod and stayed for dinner. Lovely! The only thing better would have been to have both kids together in one place. And we're working on that one.

The sewing has been meager. I've been trying to get some yard work done--things look very Tobacco Road around here--between dog walks. My output for the week consists of this:

This is the beginning of a super-secret project for a friend. I can't let out too many details but I'll share a bit of it here and there as I go along. You know the saying about great journeys beginning with one single step? Well, you're looking at step one. A little anal-retentive madness to keep my stress level at a jangly constant.

And finally, a gratuitous shot of our girl Lucy.


She's discovered barking, speaking of jangled nerves. And what incites the barking? The latest thing is a TV ad for vacuum cleaners, which shows the Brand X vacuums making noises like squeaky toys. This sends Lucy absolutely into the stratosphere and she barks and barks and barks.

And why do they always have to run that ad at about 11:00 at night??

Arsenic and New Lace

Artsy shot. Note the lilacs in bloom. Finally.

A knitting milestone has been reached. Kimono Shawl Number Two is at the halfway point. Progress has slowed since Lucy's arrival, but I almost don't care how long it takes. I really enjoy working on it, I have the pattern internalized so that I can talk while working on it, and it will be done in plenty of time for shawl-wearing season next fall.

The Jamieson's Shetland Spindrift yarn has that same clean lanolin-y scent as the Jamieson's Shetland Spindrift I made Kimono Shawl Number One from. Every once in a while I have to stop and take a big hit of that scent.

This is the clear sign of a fiber-mad person.

Lucy may be at the equivalent of the Terrible Twos. We ran her around outside with balls and toys for a long time today. Then it was hard for her to settle down, the humans became frazzled, and we had a teeny little meltdown this evening. When the kids were little, we used to call it The Arsenic Hour.

I wish I could give her a bottle, like a baby. That was always a nice calming time in the evening for all concerned. Did the next best thing--held her on my lap and she quieted down eventually. All is peaceful now.