Lazy, or smartpants?

Even before I got the new sewing machine I was falling in love with tutorials I kept seeing for ironing board covers.  People are using fabulous vintage fabrics for their boards - sheets, tablecloths - and then getting to look at the prints every time they push the creases out of things.  What's not to be crazy about?  Even leaving out the fact that the edge of my ironing board cover somehow managed to get mildewed.

I was so all over the idea of making one myself.  And then the other day I was out shopping for a magazine organizer and...

Oh.

$10, favourite colours, print I love, padding included...

Sold.

A bouncing baby Bernina

For the last five or so years, I've been pining for a new sewing machine.  New-To-Me would have been fine.  Just new enough to have incorporated any of the technological advances in the industry over the past 70 years, you know?

Good heavens, my old sewing machine is old enough to be my mother.

And really, it's awesome.  You can sew anything on it if the wires are hooked up right to the foot pedal - even organza, if you put some tissue over the feed dogs to keep them from catching.  And it still winds bobbins (though it's no longer possible for me to find new ones that fit it, and if your speed is off with the foot pedal, say because the wiring shifts, you get disastrous tension issues) and stitches frontwards and backwards with a flick of a lever.  You can even adjust the stitch length a little.

Still... I've been wanting something that would do More.  And it didn't take long to fall in love with Bernina and want one of their machines.  I actually saved up and everything.  And now a beautiful one with quilting features - the 550 QE - is resident in my house:

(that's a sample of one of the buttonhole stitches lying in front of it, by the way.  It's such a thing of beauty I had to keep it in the picture.)

A training session comes with the cost of purchase, but I have to say I don't think it's necessary.  The shipping box comes with a very interesting and exhaustive manual, the company website comes with instructional videos, and the machine itself has arrows everywhere telling you where to draw the thread next when you're aiming for the needle.

I was a bit freaked out by the bobbin-filling experience though.  I got about halfway through the steps involved in filling one on the Singer, and when I snapped a lever in preparation for the other half I was amazed to find the machine doing all the rest of the work for me.  I didn't even have to cut the thread when it was done, as such.  Just drew the thread past a cutter.

There are some crazy number of stitches you can make on this machine, and having used the most basic one of them for more than twenty years already I've been branching out to take advantage of them.  But this is my favourite so far:

I anticipate rather a lot of sewing to show up here in the next few months.  Can you stand it?

Call me irresponsible

I have a massive shelf full of fabulous lightweight cotton fabric thanks to my sheet hunt at various thrift stores this summer (and here it is nearly the end of October and neither the felted wool bag nor the writing bugs have been biting, after all that prep and way-clearing)

yet

I succumbed to some Liberty fabric at a craft show on Friday. I couldn't justify a whole yard of it since it was pretty obvious I just wanted it to look at and touch and smile over, so I bought a very small piece of the green sailboat one (it matches my new cardigan and I thought maybe, scarf?) and a slightly longer one, 54" by 18 I think? of the bolder print.

I don't actually wear or even see the point of a cotton scarf, though this may change as I get to the stage of feeling bad about my neck, so maybe I should make little bags, such as drawstring ones for knitting so I can touch the fabric a lot. Or linings for heftier bags, because I don't have enough cotton sheets for lining those, obviously.

What can I say? I have such happy feelings about Liberty from my time in London. And it didn't help that the booth had clever packages for little-girl patterns with a paper doll and one cute outfit as the front card for each design - a different doll and outfit every time, I mean. I don't have any little girls to sew for and I don't collect paper dolls but I do love Clever!

Pumpkins, in life and art

The last two days here have featured all the things you associate with your dream autumn:

Just-cool-enough-for-wool temperatures

Richly blue skies

Brilliant sun

Equally brilliant leaves, in some cases still on the trees

And, in my case, pumpkins.

Yep, the annual pumpkin hunt happened Sunday and was its usual success, right down to the butter pecan tarts ingested by me and the locally-produced honey that will be, by way of tea.

The local United Church also held its Awesome Fall Sale (not to be confused with its Awesome Spring Sale). I was pleased to find that whoever baked the toffee cookies for the Spring Sale was back again for Fall.

I scored some vintage knitting things in the back corner of the housewares room:

And - you knew this was coming, right? - a big New Wool sweater to felt:


This thing is huge, with a 44" chest that looks bigger, to me. And for some reason it didn't shrink when it felted; could it be superwash wool? I hope not. I hope it just magically retained its shape after both the hot water wash and the dryer and will not fall apart when I cut into it.

I've been avoiding the unexciting colours of my own wardrobe in feltable sweaters lately, thinking I had more than enough of them for all the houseware/accessory projects I prefer, but then last month I looked at a previously felted sweater upside down, saw some light dawning, and cut it to get this:

aka a very wide waistband to which a long strip of pieced-together bits could be sewn.

You will note I am not showing more pictures of how the resulting skirt turned out. Let's just say the concept needs some fine-tuning, shall we?

Getting back to the argyle-esque sweater - it's very matchy with the rest of my wardrobe, and it's so ridiculously large I could cut it off at the armpits, turn it upside down, gather up the waistband a bit, and have a warm quirky knee-length skirt in the time it takes me to do a blanket stitch hem. And... I can't believe I'm saying this, but...

it's also perfect just as it is, worn Boyfriend Sweater-like over a pair of tights.

I am so far from being twenty years old and able to get away with Boyfriend Sweaters it's pitiful, but I'm gonna wear it that way today anyway; it can be a whole pumpkin for now, and if/when I get sick of it, I'll wave the ol' magic wand and transform it into something dressy-uppy. Or what passes for it in this house.

Stocking up

I got into four different thrift stores today hunting for materials to use in the inevitable sewing projects that will overcome me this fall and winter. Why I feel the need to do this when I'm sneaking out to thrift stores in those seasons is beyond me, unless it's because I don't get out of the city to do it once summer's day trips are done and small town thrift stores are just more fun, but I'm trying not to question myself too much.

So far, everything fits into the storage space I've got, but I've noticed myself getting picky about what I bring home; I turned down at least five things today I would have leaped at in June. Good Mary!

Moderately good, anyway. I probably should have turned down a couple of these sheets because I have far more lining than I do outer fabric for tote bags... but I love the prints, and I know I won't be able to find them when I eventually run out and go looking for them in stores again, so I've washed and dried them and found some little nooks and crannies on the lining shelf.


And can you believe this tablecloth, the perfect size for my table?


I'm hoping my friend who's allergic (seriously) to the expensive holiday cloth I have had to stop putting under the turkey dinner won't have a reaction to this one because hello, fabulous? and not a single stain. (and $4.00, to boot.)

I checked every store for wool sweaters but there wasn't much on offer. You know, except for a single cashmere ($3.00) and a couple that turned out to fit me and have therefore been washed and set out to dry. And this cutie from New Zealand which is felting as I type:


and these three primary colours, the scraps of which will end up as raw material for some art objects I think.


The yellow has already been through the washer after a discussion with Trish about whether it was worth unraveling for its yarn (No.) It's come out as flat and as stiff as a board and I think wants to be a bag, with some cool lining from a sheet, probably the new one with the matching yellow cabbage roses in the top pic. The other two - indescribably soft - are quite thin and floopy and might make some really amazing mitten liners. I know that seems like a waste, but the hands of loved ones really do deserve a treat in winter, and you'd be amazed how many other projects the cut-up bits of a post-mitten sweater can go into.

Not to mention how much space they take up. Oh dear, and there's one more thrift run coming up next week...

Cottage industry

Last night my aunt asked me whether or not I've ever considered buying a cottage and I sort of stammered over saying No, not really. Because I have been thrifting again, and here is what I have bought after hesitating longingly over vintage Pyrex double boilers and other kitchen essentials:

Sheets
Pillowcases
Wool blankets

I made these purchases with no intention of using them for their intended purpose - I bought them for cutting up into Other Things - and I can guarantee you I will not be going near them with scissors because they have no holes or stains or other problems that would prevent them from being delightful to sleep under at a cottage.

There, I said it. All this thrifting I pretend to myself is for eco-frienly craft work? I'm about 96% certain that secretly I've been amassing stuff for a weekend residence. You know, for that long-distant day when I can actually afford and justify one.

Now if only I can think of a place to store it all while I wait for the lottery to pay off...

Fate is being sneaky with me

I went on a thrifting trip today (well, actually it was a day trip full of picnics and amusements and water fests and so forth that I planned as cover for several thrift shop visits) and guess what I found mixed in with the pillowcases and sheets that are so alluring as tote bag liner fabric?


Yes. Hooks for rug-hooking. A whole bowl full of them - I chose these two because they represented the two different shapes on offer and felt the most comfortable in my hand and one of them has Patons punched on the side and both were made in England, which makes them extra appealing to me.

This does not mean I will pursue rug-hooking. They cost 29 cents each and I decided a 60 cent investment that goes to charity is a perfectly reasonable response to being presented with a bowl full of tools for something that intrigued me just this week. I will be strong. I will just put them away quietly until some urgent reason arises for me to take up a piece of burlap and thread wool into it.

(and yes, that lovely blue doily really did cost 49 cents. Don't you love thrifting?)

Effective-ish marketing

Last weekend a friend who runs told me about a special sale at a local sports store - spend $X, get a 'free' Ironman watch from which you can control your iPod.

I assume this is attractive because it's easier to use your wrist for resistance while pressing buttons than the palm of your hand, or maybe because it spares a runner the need to pull the iPod out of whatever pocket it's been tucked into and then get it back out again. Seriously, have you seen those shirts with the little iPod fold on the shoulder or the back waist?

Well, I myself am not really a runner, which is to say I haven't been able to run more than a block without panting since at least last summer and haven't been really in shape to do it for about 6 years. But I do use running shoes at the gym, and they do wear out, amazingly, even if you're not taking them through trails.

So since I'd gone along to the store with said friend anyway, I thought I might as well get a new pair of shoes myself.

And then the salesguy pointed out that I was pretty close to qualifying for a free watch of my own.

And then I found some pretty good-looking socks, so....


I was right: they're awesome socks. I should probably take up at least a little running again to really appreciate them, but we're looking at a cold and rainy weekend so... maybe I'll just play with the watch instead.

(Up)market

I can't stop thinking about the grocery store I was in yesterday.

I mean, seriously. I think I was ruined for any other after three minutes, and that was just the produce and chutney sections - by the time I rounded the corner past prepared foods (Oh. My. Gosh.) and into the bakery, I was totally doomed.

(see: peanut-free cupcakes with bright frosting in their own shaped plastic containers for local moppets to take to school in their lunchboxes, tucked in beside sandwiches folded into reusable, washable cloth cases in cheery construction equipment or floral fabrics, available in the elegant stationery section alongside baked goods. Oh, and let's not forget the 'Skunk' duster in Housewares - white tail as business end.)

I've known about this place for a really long time - it's in the neighbourhood I aim for when planning a long walking, or medium running route. I've just never been inside. But now that I have to practise driving every day I am running out of places to go, and on the weekend I remembered this market and thought, huh, maybe I can head over there and brush up on parallel parking. It turned out to be far too busy on the roads for that, though, which maximized my browsing time.

Yep, I said browsing: I made it all the way through without buying anything, mainly because the lineups were about six miles long and I was already out of time. But I am totally going back. Those sandwich cases? Perfect gifts. And - okay, I don't actually like marshmallows, but they have some flavoured ones handmade in Vancouver... pistachio, maple, vanilla, and about six other options I forget.

I just need to figure out a better place to park, because I don't want to be carrying the spoils three whole blocks to the quiet street I found this time.

Yard sale

I had most of Friday off, and it was super sunny and nice out, which kinda undermined my intention to get the taxes done (the Canadian deadline for those is April 30: looming.) When I spotted an old Singer sewing machine in my neighbours' back yard while I was taking out the recycling, well, that was pretty much that. I mean, I am a procrastinator.

They're moving, you see. To England. And they were having a yard sale on Saturday - this was the setup. And I was going to be away most of Saturday, and I am a yard sale addict, and it's pretty tough for me to resist a look at an old Singer, so I called over to see if I could do an advance shop.

That's how I managed to come home with this:


because the Singer turned out to be the same model as the one I have already. However, there was another sewing machine on offer:


It's not a Bernina, but it should give me some flexibility on the zigzag and decorative stitching front while I save up for one.

And - icing! I spotted this lovely little cup nestled in a box.


Yep, same pattern. When you're lucky, you're lucky.

Flat as a pancake

In addition to about a metric tonne of chocolate, there was a complete pancake crisis at my place over Easter weekend.

I'm good at pancakes, so periodically I'm called upon to make rather a lot of them, which several years ago led me to purchase a nonstick two-burner griddle for my ceramic-topped stove. Since then I've used that griddle for so many things, the nonstick stuff wore out and I had to stop using it. So with Easter looming, the pressure was on to get myself a (better) replacement.


Voila! The griddle of my dreams, complete with delicious-looking cookbook. I was a happy girl when I took that picture. Then I took off the rest of the wrapping and looked at the bottom of the griddle and realized you can't use it on a ceramic-topped stove (it doesn't make 100% contact with the heating surface and was in fact designed for a gas or electric stove; put it on a ceramic top and it will warp, thereby voiding the warranty.)

So back it went. And home I came again with the next level up at 5x the price and 6x the storage size - an actual electric griddle. Thing of beauty except for two tiny nicks in the nonstick.

So back that went. And I spent Easter doing this:


The skillet in front? Totally burnt most of the pancakes I trusted it with. So I'm still hunting for a griddle and hoping to find it before the next big gorgefest.

Life goals

My mother dreamed of one day dancing with Fred Astaire - and did nothing whatsoever about it.

I mean, honestly. You don't see me dreaming of one day having a whole book out with just my name on it

(and I do mean my name, and not that of the other Mary Keenan who lives in my town and is also a writer and does have a whole book out with just her name on it)

and then just sitting around knitting or sewing heating pad covers or eating chocolate, do you?

Oh, right.

Well, as long as we're setting goals doomed to be unattained, I will publicly state my dream of one day going shopping with Patricia Marx.

Have you ever read any of her shopping articles for The New Yorker? She is such a good writer, and so witty, and what an eye for cool stuff. Shopping lost its charms for me back when I noticed I was living in an already-full, tiny house, but I would leap at the chance to hear all those quips live and in person, while stocking up on a lifetime's worth of material memories.

Meanwhile, one has the consolation of reading those articles, which may not be as good as the real thing, but aren't as hard on one's feet. Much like watching Fred Astaire dance, rather than actually being his partner.

H'mmm. Think maybe my mum was onto something?

Why we buy things

Last night it snowed - a big wet fluffy snow that filled the sky with white. All the previous snow has melted and the weather is a little mild, so this new snow felt like a pre-Christmas edition.

And here is the memory it brought me:

One December when I was very young, maybe 7, my mum put me on a train to the city to visit my biggest sister, then a university student. And that sister took me shopping. At night. In my town night shopping was restricted to the budget department store on Main Street, so this was a big deal. It was snowing out - a big wet fluffy snow that filled the sky with white, and blanketed the ground with just enough white to catch the toes of my boots.

My sister suggested we go into a mysterious little shop a few steps and a wrought iron railing down from the sidewalk. Inside, the light was warm and friendly, and an enormous number and variety of beautiful candles were displayed for sale. I looked and looked, amazed and happy, and then I was drawn to a little white china box with a red china bow tied around it.

I lifted the lid and - oh, the scent of the little red candle inside! Fruity and sweet - everything a 7 year old girl would want. I bought it for my still-at-home sister's Christmas present.

For me, as I now realize, the candle encapsulated everything about the moments leading up to its purchase - the excitement of being in the city, the treat of being with a sister I missed terribly, the luxury of all those candles, the illusion of being all grown up. I bought it to capture for our other sister the gift of all of those wonderful things.

Of course, what my sister actually got was a candle in a highly breakable and dust-catching kinda seasonal-specific box. A candle she wasn't allowed to burn in her room for her own self anyway, being too young for that sort of thing. She left it behind when she moved out for her own university career, and when I came across it in her room afterward I found the scent had gone too.

Still reminded me of that wonderful night though. Even the image of the box in my mind does that. And so, it seems, does a peaceful night's snow.

Unintentional procrastination

MAN. I just did a bus/subway trip to get some holiday shopping done and it was a complete bust! I have a tube of toothpaste to show for a 90 minute investment. (do you think anybody would enjoy a nicely wrapped tube of toothpaste?)

And I forgot to bring my knitting with me. The knitting that is meant to be gifts I am running out of time to finish.

Well, now I remember why I make most of my presents and shop online for the rest...

Fall Sale followup

I didn't find any buttons or blankets or wool sweaters for felting, but I didn't come away empty-handed from the Awesome Fall Sale last week, either:


I have such a weakness for lacy and/or embroidered handkerchiefs. They don't take up a lot of room, which is an important consideration for me, and they're very pretty, and just rare enough of a find to feel exciting. Someday - probably a week Tuesday when I'm in the middle of writing an inspired piece that everyone will want to read - I might even think of something to do with them.

The plain white cloth underneath the hankies looks totally ordinary unless you happen to notice it's linen. And if you pick it up, you'll find it's linen that's been washed and ironed enough over the years to have a wonderful heavy drape. I found one pinprick of a stain on the underside near the edge; otherwise, it's in perfect shape, and it set me back all of $5. Again: no idea what I will do with this. But I'm happy to know that if I ever need a 3'x3' linen cloth, it's neatly folded in my cupboard and ready to go.

In the textile sections I found a lot of vintage knitting needles that I resisted, being distracted by this Singer sewing machine attachment. I love my old 1940s model, but I do wish I could serge the odd edge now and then. Zigzagging is a reasonable substitute though, and for a buck, I figured I could gamble on this 1950s attachment fitting my machine. Sometime this week when I get a chance (and if I think I don't have time, I'm sure to make it by sitting down to write a first draft of the aforementioned inspired piece), I'll find out whether or not I won the bet.

Awesome fall sale

Twice a year, one of my local churches does a big fundraiser for its various programs and charities by hosting an Awesome Sale...

and today is the Fall installment!!!

I love the Awesome Sale. It's a well-known treasure trove of vintage furniture, glassware, clothing, toys, sportsgear, drapes, jewelry, and more - for the first couple of hours you can't find a parking space for several blocks around the church. I gave directions once to a lady who'd come by bus just to check it out.

It's hard not to get enthusiastic about a sale like that, even as you ask yourself how on earth one small neighourhood can cough up so much fabulousness. Eventually the donors are going to run out of old stuff to clear out, aren't they?

Hopefully not yet. Even showing up a few hours late I've had some great finds over the years, including a mint condition 1950s juice jug with still-bright red and green fruits on the side, and an unstained, hole-free vintage tablecloth and napkin set. I'm definitely not ready to lose this exciting semi-annual source of comfort shopping.

Three guesses what I'll be looking for this time around:

(wool sweaters
wool blankets
and big bags of buttons)

Stay tuned for the skinny on how I did!

School bag

I am so excited about back-to-school!

Even though I am not going back to school and also, even though I didn't know I was excited until I walked into a brick-and-mortar store yesterday and saw all the products for fall, like wool leggings and fabulous eco-friendly book bags from Matt and Nat:


To my credit, I did not buy a tailored plaid jacket or a tailored plaid skirt or even socks. I deserve chocolate for that, right?

Rain Rain Go Away

Not.

Yay, it's raining and it's going to rain all day!! I don't need to water the plants!

I could have used some of this rain while I was at book camp and couldn't nurture the garden through the hot dry days we had. On the other hand, I would have been sitting through lectures in wet shoes. And now the plants are happy, so it's all good. But it does make me kick myself for still being so immature, wanting a nice garden to look at but not look after. The ol' cake-and-eat-it switcheroo.

And even more than that, I'm kicking myself for still not having a pair of summer shoes to get wet in comfortably. And yet not kicking myself... mmmmm, shopping.

Target Range

I'm kind of in shock to find that you can buy Fit to Die (which contains, among other fine things, my first published crime story) at Target.com. It came out in 2001.

Should I be shocked by this? or just have another fudgsicle?

Oh, right, I already ate them all. Shocked it is.

Too Much of a Muchness?

Or not? I can't decide.

On the one hand, I never bring out more than two or possibly three of these Bazura bags at once... but on the othger hand, I did just buy myself three more. Aw, c'mon! two of them are rice bags, and the third is woven from strips of juice boxes, so they are a little different. It's not as though they aren't super cute and highly functional.