My history map

A long time ago, in that other country, The Past, a small girl lived with her mummy and daddy in a compact sixties semi in a quiet close of similar modest homes. 

Their home was just one corner of a busy market town, tucked beside the Downs in Hampshire, with Butser Hill an ever present, but distant marker in the background of their lives. The house sat beside a plentiful thicket of brambles and wild ground, perfect for playing with The Gang and gathering blackberries. A very small stream ran along the bottom of all the back gardens, and the main road was far enough away to be no danger.

At the front of their collected houses was a wide green, bordered by two rows of "houses for elderly folk". Sometimes the little girl scavenged blackberries, or scrambled in the undergrowth with The Gang; playing hide and seek, surprising a slow worm, or trying to climb the scrubby trees growing on the land; sometimes she dressed as a fairy princess and floated about on the green outside, chaperoned by her trusted feline assistant, Kandy, watched by mummy from the window of her sun filled kitchen.

Sadly, the little girl's daddy and her grandad died within a year of each other, the year she became eight, and their life together there was over. She and her mummy had to travel all the way along the A272, she doing the map reading while Mummy drove, to live with her granny, known and loved as "Ganna". Mummy had to go back out to work full time, while Ganna, at the age of 70, became the mother of the house in all ways. 

with Ganna and Grandad in happier times

That little girl was, of course, me. I look back on that time, not as something remembered, but as part of the myth of the past by which, to some extent, we all live; those things we understand happened to us, but which evoke no sense of lived reality. As an adult, I think of my poor Mum, coping with the loss of so very much, relinquishing her parenthood and going back to being a daughter in the house. I think of eight year old me, trying to adjust to such a huge change of living. I was lucky, in that Ganna was the most wonderful second parent, and my life was enriched by her presence, but still it was a big disruption.

In Sussex Stitchers this year, we have a project where we are each encouraged to create an embroidery centered around a map of some sort. I have chosen this, my most momentous journey, as the story behind my map. Transferring various images onto printable organza, I layered them over another, printed onto silk: this layer is backed by white cotton sateen to give substance to stitch into. The imagery I have used includes some photos from above, but also clips from my mother's diary of the time; entries from February, when he died, and November when we left all we knew to move back to Ganna's house. I used MistyFuse to attach those organza layers, and have quietly stitched into the fabric with simple couching, running and seed stitch, using some metallics, silk and stranded cotton. I am toying, now, with bordering the piece with some vintage lace edging. This reflects that remembered sense of having stepped back into an earlier time, that of my grandmother's world, rather than the sixties in which, in theory, I grew up.

Behind all this past detail is a faded out version of an oil pastel sketch I created on a return visit to the area around 30 plus years ago. I was exploring the top of Butser Hill as evening approached; sketching a hawthorn tree, the layers of the downs and the curve of the A3 winding through them on its way to Portsmouth. As evening approached there were wonderful layers of clouds to catch the dying light, it was a magical experience. 

I am hoping these fleeting glimpses once finished, will create some sense of that lost life which sits, in its own little flickering, glowing space, inside my inner mind. There is more to do, but I am content with the outcome so far. I hope you like it.

Northern Lights Shawl

Many many moons ago, when Darling Daughter was just a small person (she will be 39 in a couple of weeks!) I fell in love with some yarn by Novita, it was called Brazil, and had rainbows in the mohair mix. I just had to buy it, but had no idea of what to knit with it and, as I was rather short of money in those days, didn’t really buy enough for anything, just 7 balls. There were four colours, black, a blue green, golden oranges and a soft cream. They were tucked away, along with many other yarns, in my stash, and have been through five house moves since then. 

Last year I had the pleasure of cruising up the Norwegian coast with Stitchtopia. As with all their trips there was a project involved, in this case a cowl, inspired by the Northern Lights. Our knitting tutor bought some suitably colourful wool with her to make up our project packs but, a key word there ..... it was wool. A cowl fits snugly round the neck, that is the point, and my skin gets a bit excitable when it is snuggled up against pure wool, so sadly that project was abandoned, but not the concept.

Around Christmas time I saw a wonderful shawl, knitted by a friend, which sparked further ideas. Very simple to knit, involving mitred squares which gradually built up to a large triangle, I realised this might embody those Northern Lights, which so thrilled me at 5am on the prow of our ship in the Norwegian Sea.

The project was begun, each square would have flashes of an alternate colour creating zigzags of greens, purples and golds to simulate those fugitive but wonderful displays. The dark came first, for the night sky, 

then the soft greeny blue of the Arctic nights when the sun fails to rise at all, and the rich golds of the sun itself, the source of those particles, blown by solar winds into our atmosphere. It would finish with a row of cream to remind me of the beautiful snowy Norwegian coastline we sailed past each day.

I realised part way in that I still didn’t have quite enough yarn, so there was much weighing and recording of what it took to complete each square. Further secondary yarns were bought in, would I manage to finish and keep the concept alive?

I also realised that, as well as the Northern Lights, I was knitting the autumn colours of my garden

I’m very glad to say I managed to make those yarns last. The shawl was finished this week. It is as wide as our sofa, goes down my back to the base of my spine, and keeps me beautifully warm as Autumn approaches. And I can arrange it around myself in such a way that the top stands away from my neck, so no tickly, itchy, spine shivering from that mohair!

I hope you like it too, and have enjoyed the story of its making.

A stitching update

 I’m sorry for my absence, our life together has been overtaken with difficulty just now; living has taken on a new priority, and my dearest heart is quite unwell, so we are going along quietly together. In the in between times I am still stitching where I can. 

My most recent project was to create a hanging for his bedroom from some delicious African fabrics I bought years ago with him in mind. He recently asked for someting to replace a lovely old family portrait of his great grandfather as a little boy in Regency frock. Little Arthur has returned to a house he previously lived in, much to the delight of the house owner. The result was this; some giraffes, which are an old private symbol between us, African fabrics, because he grew up in Africa, and three little four patches, composed from fabrics I used in his three great grandchildren’s quilts, so they are with him in spirit. It is another little “story quilt” with fabric links which means something to us. 

Having completed that, I needed something new to work on, or perhaps something in progress to mover further on. You will remember this series from here, here and here.

I am hoping to begin the next phase with this piece of cloth, more gleanings from that first quilt, and not quite as pale as it appears here.

I have cobbled it together with Jude’s Glue Stitch, a regular web of tiny stitches and long intervals which creates a single piece of cloth from several little bits, all held down on a base cloth, here calico. It leaves a little grid of tiny stitches on the front, but they get subsumed by embroidery, and it is a much nicer cloth to stitch on than if you bonded them down with adhesive webbing, however fine.

I think the three pieces will sit rather well together when finished

I am taking  another Stitchtopia trip in a week’s time, just eight days, and my dear heart’s daughter will take care of him while I am away. We will be knitting in the Faroe Islands, and I will be meeting up with a few previous fellow travellers, so much to look forward to, but I will also be spending time in airports, so wanted something to take along to stitch. I’m hoping this will work. 

Christmas "gods"

For the past several Christmases I have done a small bit of seasonal appropriate hand stitching.

This is the latest to join the throng 

which includes: a slightly plaintive looking Santa

and a jolly Christmas tree

A bit kitsch I know. They are all part of a printed sheet of fabric ready to cut out and stitch together; Memories of Christmas Past, produced by Cranston Print Works. These were acquired from a Canadian quilting shop in 1986 when I was pregnant with my lovely girl. They have a right to be kitsch, they've waited a long time to come into being!!

They are joined by this little fabric angel; rather modest, slightly dumpy but with a spark of mischief in that curl of hair above her forehead. She comes from Aunt Cecil, and epitomises that dear little soul, boldly carrying her star into life.

You'll gather we don't "restyle" Christmas every year, just add to its history. They are folk hovering close by, linked by little pieces of the past which bring that soul to life in a special way at this time of year. 

I was listening to the Carols From Kings on Christmas eve and ruminating on how, in my youth and teenagehood, I sat on the floor while Mum and Ganna sat in our two sitting room chairs. Together we enjoyed those same words and gloriously resonant voices soaring in that same historic space. They have been singing in my heart for all those years. 

Seasonal music and textiles, linking loved souls in time and memory. All part of the theme of the dying and resurrection of the year each Solstice, the human need for hope expressed long before the advent of Christmas.

Quilt Planning

I am having a bit if fun planning the next quilt for my husband's next great grandson. His sister has given him a name, we're not sure it has parental approval! I won't publish it here.

I'd assembled some fabrics, including at least two from his sisters quilt, and two from their cousin's; I like to feel they have that link, even if the various parents never notice, it pleases me. 

So, blocks chosen, a design on graph paper, just the outlines, scanned into the computer

Copy and paste fills in the gaps for a printable graphic

which can then be coloured in, to plan where each fabric will be used

It's a story about a mouse on an island in a lake surrounded by woods where bears are camping. Tractors are working on the autumn harvest, and there are autumn woodlands to explore

This mockup was done by scanning in my fabrics and using the image of each to fill the shapes of each block. It gives me a better idea of how the colours will work together. Of course the real thing will be much more lively as the various fabrics respond to each other.

And here is the mouse, friend of fox, owl, rabbit and hedgehog on the other two quilts. Perhaps they will all play with each other again one day.

Absent but busy

 It really has been rather a long time since I posted, but I am still here, just been rather busy.

A dear aunt of mine, the last of my paternal aunts, died in April and, as one of two executors, but the one closest to her both geographically and emotionally, I have been dealing with her estate, which is taking some considerable time. I have still been stitching, just not had the energy to post here about what I was doing. I did have a break from this in June when I went with Stitchtopia to Indonesia for two weeks; a fascinating tour, rather spoilt by going down with Covid as soon as I got back. I am still contemplating what I thought of the trip, but will try and post in the other place once my ruminations are done.

My priorities have been twofold; first getting the stitching finished for my part in the lovely book we made to celebrate the life of Christine Chester. This was entered into the Quilt Creations Gallery at FOQ this year, where it garnered much enthusiasm and comment, including from the delightful John J Cole-Morgan of IQuilt Studio who featured it in his live feed on Facebook, calling it “one of the most stunning pieces at Festival”. Liz did us proud in talking about it, having been caught completely on the hop! You'll see a couple of brief glimpses of my finished piece, Moonflowers, as they flick through the book, but also so many of the other lovely artworks which our Studio11+ group created in Christine's memory. I also had the honour of stewarding at Christine’s retrospective gallery. It was such a pleasure to talk to folk about her work, and see how many visitors were deeply touched by the message behind her pieces. One of my favourites is this beautiful sheer image of her Dad using English Paper Piecing and fabrics she created herself using voile and paper lamination (here demonstrated by Claire Benn from whom I suspect Christine learnt the technique she made her own). Don't you just love those echoing shadows on the wall?

My second priority has been making a small floor quilt to welcome the latest great grandchild in my husband’s family. He was born on June 1st and I have just completed the finishing touches. Summer suns and little creatures to greet a summer baby, a couple drawn from his cousin's quilt to create a family link, along with a rabbit and fox to talk to, some mad cats dancing with the birds, and lions and tigers contemplating the fluttering butterflies. It will be given to his parents in late September when we are all meeting up during our annual pilgrimage to the Lakes. 

By then I will hopefully have a third quilt almost finished for his next cousin, who is due in October. What fun "senior cousin" will have with two boys to boss about; she will be just three when her brother is born. This will be the fourth in the series which started back in 2019 with a little girl who is now about to start school! How time flies.

I hope your summer has been productive too

Designing a series from scraps

After adding some more stitch to my Honouring Christine piece, I am still working with scraps of the same fabric from that original course. This next piece was a trial to see how Mistyfuse might work to hold the various scraps of fabric together on an underlying base of "harem cloth" a fine muslin cloth which Jude uses regularly. I found that layer of glue, although ultra fine, still had a tendency to catch the tread a little on its way though and make the fabric stiff, though that got less annoying the more I handled it. For some reason I think of this piece as Sea Flowers, not sure why.

I did the designing for this on a graphics programme on my iPad: in this case the free version of Sketchbook, though I'm sure other equally valid apps are about. As long as you have layers, a simple selection of brushes and the ability to pick colour you have all you need. In the screenshot below there are five different layers, the top four holding an element of the next section of stitching I was trying out - the flower to the right and the fly stitch and running stitch in the centre and top. An earlier incarnation with a more fleur-de-lys shaped flower was quickly rejected without any reverse stitching required. Then I could tack some boundaries onto the cloth and stitch away knowing that I understood where it was going.

The second bit of stitching began on harem cloth (the trilithon in the centre) I extended the design by incorporating some surroundings, using "glue stitch" to combine all the layers rather than Mistyfuse. Below I have pinned down a printed version of  my stitch design from the iPad so that I can tack the next circle (cut away from the paper) to be stitched once the paper is taken away.

And here is where this is going - Moonhenge. I am unconvinced by the stitching in the reflected moon at the base, it seems to disrupt too much so I may take that out and just add some circular running stitch. 

Both still to be bound somehow.

Such a long time ago, using Connie and Harry's sheets for fabric as I was so unsure of whether the results would be usable. There may be another piece before I finish. An accidental series.

If you are interested in the memorial book for Christine, it should be on display at the Festival of Quilts this year if it is accepted into the "Quilt Creations" category. Twenty four of us have banded together to stitch or weave a piece which exemplifies the creativity which Christine fostered in each of us at Studio 11. We had a meeting this week to review all the pages of the book prior to assembly and were thrilled at the variety and quality of each artwork. Do pay it a visit if you go to FOQ this year, and treat yourself to the Christine Chester retrospective gallery which will also be part of the show. You might catch me stewarding while you're there.