The Mug Club Mug Rug

Confession: I've never made a mug rug before.

If you know me at all you know I have a hard time working small. And a mug rug is very small. I absolutely could not resist, however, when Kerry Goulder at Kid Giddy asked me to participate in The Mug Club Sew Along. I'm rather an obsessive tea and hot chocolate drinker so capturing the best vessel seemed like fun.

There are 12 different patterns in the Mug Club. You can buy one or both series, each with six paper piecing patterns. Kerry sells Series 1 and Sue sells Series 2. They come in 6'' or 10'' finished sizes. Cozy tea time quilt anyone?

Did you know Kerry is a paper piecing master? It seems she can take nearly any shape or image and turn it into an easy to make paper piecing pattern. I'm in awe. Roller skates, Land of Magic, pugs, mugs, and more

I'm also in love with my little mug rug. I picked the Vardagen mug from Series 1. It reminded me of one of my favourite mugs, the kind you can wrap your hands around to warm yet not so big that the tea gets cold before you finish it. I picked the silliest of fabrics because that's just how my sense of humour works. Luchadores on a tea mug?!

Check out all the other mugs made during this sew-along by following the #TheMugClub or #TheMugClubSAL on Instagram.  Both Kerry and her sister, Sue, are leading a beautiful parade of mugs!

From 0 to 125 - A Survey of Unfinished Quilts

Where do you fall when it comes to unfinished quilts? Earlier this year I conducted a survey of readers on the topic. Everything from true confessions on the number of quilts under construction to attitudes towards these projects.  Over 400 people answered the survey and I am finally able to share the results. My own current number sits at 47. It certainly creeped up this year!

What counts as a quilt under construction? I left the definition of unfinished open, by design. For some people a stack of fabric counts as an unfinished quilt, for others it is a quilt top. I let everyone define that personally. 

Just how many quilts under construction do you have? A few of you have 0, zero! unfinished quilts. A a few of you have over 100 quilts sitting unfinished. Most of you, however, are in the 10-15 unfinished quilts range. 

What I think is more telling is how people feel about their number. I asked people does this number stress you out?

Unfortunately, it didn't occur to me to have these questions link so I could figure out the statistical correlation (I am not a survey designer by trade). Same goes for the next question, where I asked people how many is too many?

In looking informally through all the responses though, it appears (but is not proven) that those that have a higher number don't seem all that stressed by the number. Nor do they think there is such a thing as too many. I have a theory about that. 

It comes down to perspective. If people view quiltmaking as a means to an end - a process by which we make a product - they get hung up on numbers and checking things off lists. Must finish becomes a mantra because their goal is a finished quilt. But if people view quilting making as an end in and of itself - a process that may or may not result in a product - then the number doesn't really matter.

Of course it should be said that at some point the majority of us do want to finish quilts. We are, ultimately, trying to make quilts here. If the emphasis, however, is on the finished product over the process we might as well go to the mall and buy a factory made piece. 

Back to the survery results.

Let's get practical. I asked where in the process do you generally stop working on a quilt? The question about process was left open ended, so the numbers don't add up to 100%. But the results are still telling. 

I know, for me, making a backing and basting are my blockades. Quilts pile up there. It seems I am not alone. Those are tedious tasks, no doubt. 

One question and the most popular answer probably tell the story here. The question was asked, what makes you stop working on a quilt?

Overwhelmingly, the answer was what one respondent referred to as Shiny Object Disorder. Something else becomes more inspiring in that moment. Or we get bored. It's pretty simple. Other answers included uncertainty about quilting plans or skill level. And that ever present need to wash the floors to baste a quilt!

I was able to present these results and my take on them in a lecture at QuiltCon in February. For the rest of you who weren't there I am happy to both share the results here and my full take on them in the latest issue of Modern Quilts Unlimited. In the article I defend all these unfinished quilts as markers of creativity. If we take on the Five Ps of quilt creativity we can all see it this way.

• Perception - how you view your quiltmaking in general makes a huge difference in how you view unfinished quilts, your skill level, and creativity
• Planning - approaching quiltmaking willy nilly is fine for some, but most of us require a more thoughtful approach to a project and practical considerations of space, time, and money
• Process - there should be as much joy for you in the process as the product
• Practicality - how we manage the unfinished quilts in our space and minds
• Play - bringing that spirit of playful joy to our quiltmaking

Long time readers will recognize these themes from posts. After nearly 20 years a quilter I've learned a few things, and I don't just mean hand applique. When we start our quiltmaking we almost always all start with products in mind. Some of us stay there and some embrace process more. Neither is more right than the other. When it comes to quilts under construction, however, I do need to defend every single one you have as a mark of creative action. Even if it's been years since you touched that project it does not represent a failure, it celebrates creativity! Own it.

One Year

I can usually hear the footsteps the second the feet hit the ground. A tiny body sliding out of her giant bed, stepping around the dog sleeping on the floor, blankets and Tiger in hand. She sometimes opens the blinds, the creak of the roller a dead giveaway, just to make sure it's morning. Then she stomps down the hall. It sounds like stomping, even though she barely weighs 30 pounds. Her hand grasps the knob on the door to my room. A short turn and she peeks in. If she sees me awake she quickly pops in the room, slams the door behind her, props her crap on the bed, and climbs in.

She usually doesn't say a word. Not until she is settled and snuggled beside me. Her face is glowing with a morning smile and she practically purrs with delight. We lay like that for a what is probably only seconds. Then she pops her head up.

"Mama, can we bake today?"

*******

One year ago I marked my first day as a stay at home parent. My husband left for work, to return more or less almost 4 months later. I was thrust into the role of full-time parent with no regular paycheque. It was an initiation, almost hazing, that no college student would ever survive. 24 hours a day, alone, with my kids.

Being home with my kids was never a reality I imagined. I was going to either save the world or make a lot of money working hard. For a while I thought I could combine the two. Then these little creatures emerged, growing with me, and encouraging a sense of self I never knew was there. Our family changed and the needs of the whole outweighed my desire to save the world. Instead I needed to work on just saving us.

So, here I am. A year in. Much calmer now - most days - and still working on keeping us all sane. I've had to revise my own expectations about what can be achieved by the family and by me, in our time. I've also blown apart my own thoughts about the pleasure this would bring me and the peace it gives my husband. I still wonder what the hell I'm doing and I don't love it every day. But I like it. A lot.

In this past year I've developed a whole new relationship with the girls, worked to define this new thing with my husband, and searched for a balance to my own desires and goals. It's been HARD. And that's not counting the disappointments, struggles, grief, and disorder that the last year also brought.

And I wouldn't change a thing. As hard as this life is, it is better. Much, much better.

*******

Peach pie, lemon cupcakes, muffins, scones, cookies, bread... We're baking it all. Practically something new every day.

The Monster isn't as thrilled with being in the kitchen as she used to be. If there is the prospect of chocolate she will join us. Otherwise, The Evil Genius pulls up her bright orange chair, rifles through the cupboard for her apron, and says to me, "So, what should we bake today, Chef?"

With the Monster starting Kindergarten this morning I see even more baking in my future. That kid will have the best snacks in her heart covered backpack. Full of love and most likely chocolate.

Nectarine, White Chocolate and Cardamom Scones

(adapted from the basic English Cream Scone recipe in the original Five Roses Flour cookbook)

Makes 16-18 kid-size scones

1 nectarine, chopped into 1/2'' chunks

3 ounces white chocolate, roughly chopped

2 cups flour (you can mix whole wheat with regular, but don't go 100% whole wheat)

1 tbsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp ground cardamom

1/4 cup cold butter

2 eggs

1/2 cup heavy cream

1 tbsp sugar

Preheat oven to 450 degrees F. Line a cookie sheet with parchment or a silicon mat.

Make sure your nectarine and white chocolate are chopped. Set aside.

Combine the flour, baking powder, salt, and cardamom in a large bowl. Cut the butter into the flour. Frankly, we use our hands. 3 years olds are very, very good at this. You could also use a pastry cutter. Stir in the nectarine and white chocolate

Reserve 1 tbsp of egg whites in a small bowl, then beat the eggs with the cream. Add to the dry ingredients and mix well. The dough will be wet and sticky. Drop by heaping spoonfuls onto your prepared baking sheet. Leave 1'' between scones.

Brush the tops with reserved egg white and sprinkle with the sugar. Bake for 10-13 minutes until lightly golden.

Enforcement

3 hours.

My 3 year old sat at the table an hour for every year the other night. Just because she wouldn't drink her milk. And because we told her she couldn't leave the table until she did just that.

She cried, she took a bathroom break, she fussed, she tried to play, she desperately worked us for conversation and entertainment. We continued on with our evening - working, cleaning up, putting The Monster to bed (even though she couldn't sleep because she is quite used to her sister in the room), and I even made caramel corn. For 3 hours she sat there. At that point I subbed out the milk with a cold glass. She spilled that one. I cleaned it up and gave her another one. With a nonchalance that belied the battle of wills she simply picked it up and drank it.

Right now you either think we are cruel parents or are filled with admiration for our stick-to-it-ness. Or you think we're dumb. I'm going with all three myself.

A rule is a rule. We don't care if they don't eat all their dinner. As long as they've tried everything on their plate, they can eat as much or as little as they like. But they have to drink their milk. (Very lovely goat milk, I might add.)

As for us parents, our rule is that if we start down a path we don't cave. If the other says something we don't contradict. So even though we had a pile of things to do and actually needed the dining room table, we worked around her. It was exhausting, I'll admit. I'm proud of all of us for sticking to it. And the caramel corn went really nicely with a scotch once it was all over.

(I used this recipe, but subbed the syrup for maple syrup, added pecans instead of peanuts, and crumbled in some cooked bacon with the popcorn.)

And don't tell the kid, but I'm impressed with her. That stubborness will do her well as an adult, if she makes it there.

What are some of your dinnertime rules? What's the longest you've had to go to enforce a rule?