My Mom is still waiting for test results, so while we’re waiting I’m keeping busy.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it, but I set up a great trade with my friend Kelby.  He’s very tall and doesn’t sew, but he needs clothes for living history.  I sew, and I need both music lessons and wooden things.  Kelby makes wooden things and gives great, mind-blowing music lessons.  So, I sew for him, and he will either build stuff or give me lessons.  Recently, he made me a fantastic raised vegetable bed, using reclaimed oak from a barn that fell down in Central Virginia.

It’s fantastic.  It’s sunk about a half-foot below grade, so it should be deep enough for me to grow things like potatoes and carrots if I get the notion.  Kelby and some other friends dug and built and worked like mad over Memorial Day weekend to establish the bed.  I couldn’t keep a shovel in my hands for more than a few minutes–I kept getting shooed inside.  In most instances, that would bother me.   I dig in that soil more than anyone else, and I have an independent streak wider than a continent. That weekend, I went with it.  It was lovely to stay out of the sun and terribly hot weather.

Last weekend, we put several inches of gravel in the base and filled the rest of the bed with soil and compost.  The guys even stepped in for that.  Some folks came over for a sewing day, and once it got later in the day, three of the guys wandered outside and started moving and mixing leaf compost and soil.  The next thing I knew, the garden was full and raked and beautiful.

Now, I just need to get some sort of edging board so I can make pebble or mulch paths around it.  No mower is going to fit between the bed and the fence. I’ll show you someday.

While all of that was underway, I was teaching some friends some of my garment construction techniques.  And then I started cutting perfectly good fabric apart to sew it back together in a different fashion.

Our living history group uses pieced red and black checks in some pretty significant items.  Very few people make them, and they get worn out, so they’re in high demand. I made a couple of linen ones last fall, and we decided to make another version with smaller checks.  Maybe I’ll show you those too soon.
It all involved a lot of teaching, a lot of piecing, and a ridiculous amount of trouble with my serger. 

The thing is plaguing me.  I’m worried that it needs to be repaired, and I don’t have time for that.  Does anyone ever have time for machine repairs?  Seriously.  I just went through this with my fantastic sewing machine.  My demonic serger . . . I’m not feeling a lot of love for it right now.  And I keep convincing myself I’m just threading it wrong, though you think I’d know how to do that by now.  Right?  I haven’t had any head injuries recently.

It hates me.  Clearly.

Now, I need to prep yards and yards of fabric to sew clothes for way too many people.

I finally read this book. I bought it ages ago, when everyone bought it. I left it on the shelf, because it got too much hipster attention, but also because it’s about something very hard, and seemed to come too close to some painful situations in my own family, and sometimes it’s nice to avoid difficult things.

I finally read it in May. I liked a lot of things about it, and I was annoyed by a few aspects of the book. I avoided discussing all of that here because sometimes it’s hard for me to honestly critique books that skirt things I’ve intended to write about, like cancer and caretaking and the responsibilities kids are burdened with before they can handle them.

And then I started writing a review and stalled because I got word last week that there’s a good chance my Mom’s cancer has reared its ugly head again. There’s not an official diagnosis yet, but the mammogram was pretty telling. I have a tiny little hope that what looks like a tumor is really just scar tissue. Hope . . . hope hasn’t stood by me much over the years. You wouldn’t have guessed that, would you? I’m good at sunny and light, with a side of sarcasm.

I mentioned Mom’s cancer several times here, but I tended to focus on all of the good outcomes. I do that. I don’t want to burden you. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I do that here, and I do it even more in my day to day life. I carry things no one knows about, and I soothe and I smile and I convince everyone I can possibly convince that everything is ok, whether or not it is, and that I can carry everything I’m holding and most of what you’re holding too.

The book is hard to read.

Life can be hard to live.

My Mom probably has breast cancer again, so soon after finishing treatment. My Aunt’s cancer resurfaced as metastatic bone cancer this winter, and she’s being treated and will probably be fine, but it’s hard on her, and it’s all hard on all of us, and we’re all terrible about asking for help.

I will probably develop breast cancer, and there’s not much I can do to prevent that. I get screened, I’m trying to work on the only risk factor I have any control over–my own fitness. But I have little control over rogue cells, and I know it. My Aunt and Mom had no control over their biggest risk factor–their own parents’ smoking. I spent a lot of time in that same smoky house as a kid. It’s too late to change anything my grandparents did, and I’m so happy that my nieces and nephew grow up in smoke free homes. I am officially shrill and irrational about smoking. I don’t think I care anymore if that offends anyone. I’m sick of people I love hurting themselves and other with such idiotic behavior, addiction or no.

I’ve been blogging away in my head, and even taking some pictures, but never getting around to actually uploading photos or typing things out. There may be some sleep deprivation going on.  Maybe.

The gardening–it was manic for a while there.  I was putting in 30 hours or more for weeks in a row, while still working at that paying job of mine.  We had a true spring for what seemed like the first time in ages, and I dove right in.  I put in hundreds of perennials and several trees and shrubs, I expanded the bed in the front yard that we plan to use to displace at least half of the lawn.  I weeded and mulched and plotted and moved stones.  We put in a huge new raised vegetable bed just as the nasty weather showed up last weekend . . . It goes on and on. I still need to order gravel and compost for the new vegetable bed and at least a yard or two more mulch, but I’m dreading the muggy local climate that will accompany the truly heavy lifting that’s staring down at me.  Asthma and photo-sensitivity and allergies combine to make summer gardening a serious challenge for me.

And then we found some termites.  It looks to be a recent development, and if I think about it for more than a few seconds, I start to itch and seriously contemplate weeping under my desk.  The little “just surface damage” chant circles in my mind.  Replacing the fascia and skirting board they munched on (gibblie gibblie gibblie)  will probably lead to new gutters and that will require some fence replacement and while we’re at it the white pine that’s threatening our house needs to come out.  In other words, I may need to sell pencils on a street corner.

I’ve talked to several people about a sewing machine table to go with the gorgeous new desk, and am trying to figure out who can produce the beautiful thing the fastest.  The weather is going to keep me out of the garden a lot for the next few months, and I want to spend those hours in the studio instead.  I have quilts to finish and bags to start and new designs to get onto cloth and friends to clothe.

Also, I knit.  I promise I do.  The second sock yarn blanket has my attention at the moment, but as it grows, I’m sure I’ll set it aside for something cooler.

Wild Decembers by Edna O’Brien

This book  encapsulates so much about rural Ireland and feuding families and the strictures on women.  It’s heart-breaking and beautiful and true.  O’Brien’s language is gorgeous, and the story unfolds like a great tragedy.  Unfortunately, the audio version I listened to was of poor quality.  I’m surprised Audible did such a terrible job with this one.  It’s obviously a dub from a CD version, and the sound was bad.  The reader was also woefully bad at Irish pronunciations, which tossed me right out of the story over and over, so I was very glad to have the paper version of the book in my library.  I’ll stick to the voices in my head for this one, thanks.  I’ll save my big complaints for Books for Ears since my negative criticism applies only to the audio version.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Edna O’Brien’s novels, I can’t say enough about her gorgeous prose.  She’s such a talented writer, and she’s a force to be reckoned with in the world of Irish letters.  In addition to her glorious fiction, she’s a great biographer and literary critic.   O’Brien, Ni Dhomhnaill, Boland–those writers reshaped my brain,  and connected my understanding of ancient Ireland to the modern country.  They paved the path I try to tread.

If you saw the little studio tour video I made a while back, you saw my studio.  I adore that room and spend a lot of time there, but it doesn’t generally come first in terms of furnishing budgets.  The knee walls limit shelving options, and our stairs are narrow, and we’ve spent a lot of our time and money improving the house itself since we bought our little fixer-upper, rather than buying things to put in it.  I’ve been using a really basic beat up Ikea table for my machines since my sophomore year of college.   Multiple moves and multiple cats and countless projects later, that table is still stable enough, but it’s scratched and, well, it will never be an heirloom.

All of my hours haunting rural antique stores has paid off in a big way.  Meet my new Mission library table.

It’s Quarter-sawn tiger oak, with handles made by Grand Rapids Brass.  I found it in my favorite antique shop down in central Virginia.  I can’t believe how little I paid for it.  I saw it in late April, bought it over the phone once I measured stairways and entrances to make sure we could get it inside.  I’m doing some research now to see if I can identify the maker and date, but that’s really an academic exercise, because whoever made it made it beautifully.    I’m so excited to have those two drawers to hold bobbins and shears and other tools.  I love the lower shelf, which will be a great place to keep the baskets of scraps I use for quilting.  The grail of the wood just glows, and the bookmatching on the top–heavenly.

The drawers are deep enough to prevent me from using the knee-lift on my sewing machine, so I’m talking to friends who make furniture to see if one can make me a separate sewing machine table for my big Janome.  If it works out, that can slot into the corner, and the two will form an L that will be perfect for pooling a big quilt into the corner.  I know some people daydream about beaches or Hollywood, but right now all I want to dream about is working here, right here, in this little corner of my world.

Maryland Sheep and Wool was wonderful this year.  We had the mildest, most beautiful weather I remember at that festival.  It was great to spend time with all of my dear friends at Tuatha and Spirit Trail, and to see so many friends from local knitting groups and the KR retreat.  I didn’t want to come home.  I didn’t buy much, but I will try to show you my little treasures when I break out the camera.  I’ve been so busy organizing and purging to make way for this table that I’ve been neglecting my camera.

Now back to the studio!  I have a new bag design underway, and have knitting and sock bags I need to photograph, and audiobooks to listen to, and furniture to move, and a studio to organize.

I fell down a bit with 12 books in 12 months, and now I need to catch up.

I’ve read these:

1.  A Mercy: A Novel by Toni Morrison. Sighed my way through the audiobook version, and felt like I was betraying an idol.

2. Possession: A Romance by A.S. Byatt.  I think I loved it.

3. London Fields by Martin Amis. It blew my mind.

4. The Good Brother by Chris Offutt. It was pretty good.

5. The Song of the Lark by Willa Cather. (The review is below.)

I still need to read these:

1. Wild Decembers by Edna O’Brien.

3. Let Us Now Praise Famous Men by James Agee.  I still need to read this.

3. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad.

4.The Story of the Night by Colm Toibin.

5. Glory by Vladimir Nabokov.

6. Set This House in Order: A Romance of Souls by Matt Ruff.

7. At Swim Two Birds by Flann O’Brien.

8. Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers.

So I have some real work to do. Now, on to Cather.

I am generally a fan of Willa Cather’s books, but this one didn’t hold me quite so tightly.  It has a strong female character, which I love, and Cather’s gorgeous language and elegant descriptions. I adored the first part of the book, which followed Thea through her childhood in Moonstone.  Her relationships with her parents, siblings, and neighbors fascinated me and I really fell for the players.  Cather is so good at painting realistic portrayals, warts and all, and I think she did an excellent job of that in this novel.

I began to feel frustrated once Thea left Moonstone the second time to study music in Chicago–frustrated that her parents let her go so easily, frustrated that she was so gullible.  For me, there are certain subjects I find it hard to be quiet about, and sexual politics come right at the top of that list.  I know Cather was writing in a different time, but it was 1915, not 1815.  She could have addressed Thea’s romantic or sexual life more overtly, but instead I was left feeling like the author hid from it.  The book skirts a strange line around sexuality, and it maddened me.  I felt like Thea either would have been attacked for spending undo amounts of time alone with men, or she would have fought loudly for the freedom to surround herself with whomever she chose.  In the novel, she just . .  does whatever it is that she does, without anyone paying much attention, including the speaker.  I felt like the novel avoided the question of what did and didn’t happen between Thea and Ray or Thea and Otto.  I like the concept of a female protagonist who isn’t just there as a sex object or a saint, but I think it’s strange to ignore that aspect of her life entirely.

I was also uncomfortable about some of the racial and ethnic language and questions in the book.  It stung me that Thea was so open to Spanish Johnny and other people from different backgrounds, but so dismissive of black characters.  I understand that that was common, but it still galls me.  I’m not one to argue in favor of censorship, and I certainly don’t have a rosy or even optimistic view of early 20th century race relations in the US, but I was repeatedly thrown right out of the story by some of Cather’s word choices.

That said, I am glad I read the novel, and I may return to it again later.  So far, it’s my least favorite of Cather’s novels.

Things do slip away from me.

Where were we . . . We went to Mississippi and had a fantastic time.  Lots of our friends were there, I gave out some presents, we sang a lot, the food we made was fantastic and we spent much less time laboring over meals, and we didn’t want to come home.  Basically, all went as planned.   And then we got home, took a couple of breaths, and hosted our annual spring event.  And then I started gardening and trying to prep for Maryland sheep and wool, clothing several friends, some birthdays and births . . . I honestly can’t remember it all.  Let’s try to stick with things I have photos for.

First, gifts.  I blame our friend Richard.  So many years ago, he convinced me to weave that first white wool belt, which led Drac to convince me to make that second belt, and then we three decided to pretend I’d lost all of my fingers since my loom was hurting my hands so badly.  Last year in Mississippi, two of my favorite friends asked very nicely if I could do a bit more weaving, and a third friend earned one without even realizing he was in any sort of a race.  So I showed up in Mississippi with these.

That one in the middle is for one of the tallest people I know, hence that strange series of bound warp threads.  That’s a slot for a closure, since knotting these belts eats up a lot of the length.  Have I mentioned that I’m loom shopping?  I dream of being able to cut my warps to the length I need, rather than settling for the wrong length and inventing inelegant hacks.

To be fair, I think it’s a good concept, but I’m not happy with my execution.  The clothes I made for friends were also well received, though I didn’t get photographic evidence at this particular event.  Soon, soon.

Hands-down, the best thing about events like this the inspiration I get from other artisans.  We live in the Early Period encampment there at Gulf Wars, and we’re surrounded by master artisans.  Our campmate Edward made this fantastic chair in Ireland several years ago.

I drooled over it.  A lot.  I’m getting a bit drippy now, though I’m still disturbed by the horrid pink thing on the back.

Also, Maggie has shoes I need to try to copy. The embroidery thread is indigo-dyed.  The  width of the toe box is part of the original find, not indicative of Maggie’s dainty (nigh-identical to mine) feet.  A friend of hers from the European Viking Market scene made them, and I really want to copy them.  You know, in my spare time.

In theory, we’ll have a functioning kiln and a new woodshop in camp next year , in addition to the smithy, period kitchen, and long hall.  I swoon at the thought.  I can’t believe the coolest kids in town let me camp with them.

I’m going to try to go up early next year to help work on the hall, which needs more flag-stones and some roof repairs.  I accept that wood-working isn’t for me, but I love the idea of doing some stonework for this encampment.

The rest of the trip was all about the people.  Isn’t it always.

I don’t have a lot of time, but I do have a few pictures.  Forgive how schlumpy these all look–I don’t have a dress form, so you have to imagine a body inside these.  All of these garments are fitted to the waist with full skirts.

This is a new linen Hedeby traggerrok (apron dress) over an old linen dress.

Let’s look more closely at the jewelry.  Because, really, that’s what it’s all about.  Those fantastic brooches started all of this trouble, forcing me to make new Scandinavian stuff for the first time in ages.  They are are reproductions of a Finnish design, and I got them from Scot and Maggie last year. The two lunikeits are astoundingly beautiful examples of granulated silver, and were presents from Scott.  I’ve talked about them before.  My friend Ragnheld made the silver coins on the agate strand.  The lowermost necklace is new too–I strung up a bunch of lampwork beads I’d been collecting for ages along with my old silver Romersdal reproduction hammer.  Every single one of those lampwork beads was worked by someone I adore.  One is my particular favorite–feel free to guess which.

Look at how gorgeous those beads are!  I don’t need to take up lampwork, I don’t need to take up lampwork, I don’t need to take up lampwork . . .

They’re resting on a new woolen traggerrok which I’m currently unhappy with, so that’s all anyone is seeing until I spend some time with it.

I also made myself a coat, which is much prettier than it seems here.  It’s a lovely fine teal textured wool lined with a raw silk lining.  Oh, the glories of the silk road!  It also has a heavy flannel interlining, so it should be nice and toasty–probably too warm for the long hall.  I’m hoping to find the perfect brooch for it.  I made a similar coat for Scott, which will get handmade buttons.  For whatever reason, the women’s coats found so far were just closed with brooches, so that’s what I’ll do.

This next ensemble is absolutely ludicrous in its extravagance, in historical terms.  It’s a cranberry silk dress (documentable) under a wool/silk blend dress (also documentable), and between the two I probably used about 10 yards of fabric.  Ludicrous.  And so comfortable and pretty.  I won’t wear it to work, I won’t wear it to work, I won’t wear it to work . . .

And, in case you thought I abandoned my quilt . . . here is the test square.  I quilted it, subjected it to the cats, and machine washed it a couple of times.  It’s holding up beautifully.  Yarrow’s fur does show up on the black, but so be it.  My hope is that they’ll choose to lie on this rather than the full quilt.  I am used to being disappointed by my pets.

Look–that little bugger is back.  I think the number is actually pretty far off on the low side, but I need to keep digging though notes to correct it.  And either way, the next couple of weeks should really add to the count.  I love knowing that I’ve handsewn at least a fifth of a mile in the last few years.  Me and my little gold stars.

I’m Mississippi bound, and this time Scott is coming with me.  We’re heading to one of the coolest living history events I’ve ever been to.  Don’t get me wrong–I love our Celtic summer camp, but I love it in spite of its biggest failings: the heat, the terrain, the bugs, the flooding, and the legions of people who care less about history and more about annoying me with their piss poor research and slack encampments and bad taste.

That last bit–my slip was showing, wasn’t it?

In preparation for the trip, I’m sewing many many garments.  I need a couple of things to go along with some jewelry I picked up last year, and Scott has also become much more interested in Scandinavian history and needs more wool for cold weather events.  Our legitimate needs for a couple of new things was compounded by my current obsession with using up supplies.  Once the cutting table came out, I got a little scissor happy.  In addition to our new garments, I’m also making a couple of dresses for one friend, and some pants for another friend, and some alterations on something glorious for Richard, and I’m also doing a bit of small weaving and making a hat or two. You know how it goes. And since I’m focusing on clothing for a later period, more Northern culture, I’ve been burying myself in research, all of which makes me want to sew more and buy foreign language books and pester the hell out of friends who are expert in different cultures so I can keep on the right track.

When all is said and done, the burst of creativity has helped me make a huge dent in the fabric and yarn stash. Since I started keeping track in September, I’ve used 98 and 1/4 yards of fabric and 5,334 yards of yarn. Just since my last tally a couple of weeks ago, that’s 20 yards of fabric and 550 of yarn. All of which made me want to track down those records of my handsewing.  I have a pile of stuff to hand-finish, and I will probably do some mending for friends while we’re camping, and I may even catch some untallied hems of mine wandering about.  If only Scot Viking could come up with a pretty historically-accurate measuring tape for me . . . .

It’s time to pick! A few people exempted themselves from the drawing, so the possible recipients are:

1. The Joyful Quilter: on 14 Feb 2011 at 8:55 pm: These pin cushions are SO funky! What a fun item for any sewing room.
2. Anna on 14 Feb 2011 at 10:20 pm: The pincushions are very cute, Lanea! Happy Valentine’s Day!

3. Laurie 14 Feb 2011 at 11:37 pm: Adorable pincushions and great fabrics!

4. Vicki on 15 Feb 2011 at 12:06 am: Your pincushions are as nice as your spindle bags.

5. MarthaH on 15 Feb 2011 at 7:01 am: All of your projects are lovely. I, too, am knitting a cowl out of Jen’s yarn. I’m using a skein of Helen yarn that I got in her monthly yarn club last year.

6. Eleanor Novello on 15 Feb 2011 at 9:02 am: I love those pincushions and I could sorely use one!

7. NutmegOwl on 15 Feb 2011 at 10:17 am: Oh my goodness. Is that BLUE or is that BLUE? And stunning. I may have to get that cowl OTN, too, shameless copycat that I am. And I know there’s Birte in the stash … LOVE the coffeebeans – in person, these are just ridiculously cute.

8. shaggy on 15 Feb 2011 at 10:40 am:  They are beautiful pin cushions, favorite is the black.

9. Jeanne on 15 Feb 2011 at 10:53 am: Those pincushions are total awesomeness! And yeah, the fingerless gloves are beautiful, I love the color of them and the stitch pattern. Now I’m off to check out the rest of your blog.

10. Marty52 on 15 Feb 2011 at 11:26 am: These are adorable… I love the shapes!

11. NanciKnits 15 Feb 2011 at 3:26 pm: Oh my….. I think they are pretty enough to display! Especially COFFEBEANS (hint hint). You had better come prepared to the KR Retreat this year. If I don’t win one, I’ll want to buy one!

12. Carol Ward on 15 Feb 2011 at 3:34 pm: Amy, The pincushions are so cute and I love all the pictures of your socks. Both Mike and Tara have asked for socks so they are next on my list ( although it’s a lot of fun to knit for Will right now).

13. Nancy on 15 Feb 2011 at 5:02 pm: So cute! I saw your post on the Ravelry Sewing group (I’m alphapeppers there). I love the red one!

14. LisaM on 15 Feb 2011 at 6:44 pm: Very cute! I love the Blue Mustard colors.

15. KarenB on 16 Feb 2011 at 7:52 am: Adorable — especially the coffee bean one!

16. Mary on 16 Feb 2011 at 7:53 am: What great pincushions! (I saw your post on the sewing circle)  I love the blue mustard and kashmir ones!

17. Elizabeth on 16 Feb 2011 at 9:20 am: Those mitts are gorgeous! I love the yarn.

18. Kristianna on 16 Feb 2011 at 9:29 am: Those are fabulous mittens you’ve made! Love the pincushions too, especially the Blue Mustard and Coffeebean.

19. Ilse on 16 Feb 2011 at 2:40 pm: I would love to own one of those pin cushions. They are just adorable. This is my first time reading your blog. Love it.

20. Elly Bahri on 17 Feb 2011 at 10:44 pm: Those are some amazing FO’s! And the cushions look awesome! Thanks for the giveaway! C: Elly

21. K on 18 Feb 2011 at 10:08 pm: I was going to not sign up since I won that little bag (which has my at-school knitting in it, thank you very much), until I saw the first Kashmir.  How do you get so much done?

22. gayle on 20 Feb 2011 at 8:28 am: I love the pincushions so much that I just went and grabbed the pattern! (Great – another project I want to do. I already needed a daystretcher…)  Love all your projects! (If you were knitting your cowl up here, you’d have *plenty* of time to wear it before winter’s end…)

And here are the four results!

Jeanne!

Ilse!

Mary!

and Shaggy!

Now let’s get to planning on how I can get these pincushions to you all.   The first one to contact me gets first pick, and so on.