July Morning Make 2022

Frankly, I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to try my hand at the classic red and black Ukrainian embroidery. A first generation Canadian on my Dad’s side with a Baba (grandmother) who never spoke English and spent her summers gardening and winters with a needle, I honestly never felt the need. I mean, we have oodles and oodles of her stitching in our homes. And that doesn't count the suitcase full an aunt stole and the probably hundreds of pieces she gave away to churches, family, and friends. (Much like it will be with my quilts when I die.) With the war in Ukraine and some pride in my heritage, plus a desire for some hand stitched over the summer, I decided to pick up the floss.

For patterns I dug into my stash of supplies I have from my Baba - books, papers, and patterns. I recognized pieces and fondly recalled the decoration she would make for our blouses in Ukrainian dance. All patterns, no instructions. Without her here to guide me I turned to the modern teacher: You Tube.

In the end I finished 4 small bits of embroidery. I didn’t set out to ‘make’ anything. For one, I had no idea how long it would take. Two, I figured it would get tedious to do the same repeating pattern for an entire month. And three, I don’t really need more pieces of embroidery in the house. All four pieces could, if I wanted to, be turned into bookmarks.

I found the whole process quite relaxing. Challenging at first, just because of the counting and need to follow patterns. Once you got into a rhythm, though, it became very soothing. I don’t know that I will do it again, but it was special to go back to my heritage this month.

So Many Exclamation Points!

A picture is worth a thousand words.

This absolutely sums up my life right now. Summer break from school does not make for easier times in these Covid days. Nor does owning your own businesses. One block, one step, one more day at home, one mask, one walk in the forest at a time.

I’ve made a lot of Exclamation Point blocks in the past few months, a good form of therapy for sure. You can make your own too.

For the record, this is not a posed photo… he came in and did a number of poses as I was trying to capture this potential lay out for a quilt.

Sanctuary Sewing With Kids

How many of you seeing your sewing/quilting as your sanctuary? The one place you can go, especially in these times, where you get personal space and peace?

Yup, me too.

That’s why it is a personal conflict when the kids want to sew too. On one hand, total pride and excitement that they want to take up the craft and make their own art. Joy that they feel their creative juices flowing and want to be just like Mama. On the other hand, that’s my space, my thing, my break. Obviously, I am more excited than annoyed. Way more excited.

So when my son, my newly minted 8 year old, asked if he could learn to sew All. By. Himself. I jumped at the chance to teach him the machine. Prior to this he’s sat on my lap or played with the fabric, maybe a little hand stitching. He definitely has an eye for design. We had a lesson on the machine parts and what they do, on safety, and how to sew a straight line. He is a very cool kid who absorbs all lessons like a sponge so he took to it right away. Even made up his own mnemonic songs to remember steps. And in less than a day he had a 20” patchwork block. It was going to be a pillow, but as soon as he was done he asked to make a quilt. And another 24 hours later he had a second block.

And a pincushion.

The girls have been sewing during isolation too. Scrunchies and yo-yos. Moments of quiet creativity to calm the spirit. So many yo-yos…

Then someone else decided she wanted to turn her hand stitched nine patches into machine stitched, because one can’t be outdone by their little brother after all! I only have two machines! (Only?!) so I get booted off for their sewing. So much for my sanctuary. But this is so, so much better.

Family Heirloom

A few weeks ago I was gifted a family heirloom. This is the END of the story. I don’t know the entire beginning yet, but I do know the middle.

For as long as I can remember this machine sat at my great aunt’s house on the farm just outside of Alvena, Saskatchewan. Before that it was at my great grandmother’s house, but I only have minimal memories of that home as she moved into care when I was around 10. It was her machine. My own mother can remember her grandmother stitching, the treadle pumping, in their little house in town.

For as long as my mom can remember the machine was due to come to her upon her grandmother’s death. Shortly after Baba Yuzak died, however, the machine seemed to disappear. No one knew where it was. For years we were convinced that another great aunt had it and there was bitterness. At the same time, on the farm, that particular great aunt was in the early stages of dementia.

It was only at the funeral of the great aunt towards which the bitterness had flowed that we learned the sewing machine had been at the farm the whole time. The whole time. For a while it was in the basement, then the garage. Both places my Mom never went when she visited the farm.

A few years later the great aunt on the farm passes away, a long life lived and family to keep her going. We won’t mention any associated drama, but her children did agree that my Mom should finally get her grandmother’s sewing machine. And my Mom decided that I, the long standing quilter in the family, should get it.

Now I need to clean it up, replace the belt, and figure out all that I can. I think it would be amazing to sew on a treadle machine! For now, it sits in a place of pride in my living room, the details making me smile. The history giving me chills. The women in its life giving me power.

If anyone knows anything about these machines and can point out some less than obvious resources, I would appreciate it. I’m seeking anything right now.

And oh! Did I mention that the drawers were full of treats? That’s a whole other post. Lace under construction, trims, feet, thread on wooden spools…

One more thing, there are wheels on the cabinet! That is about as awesome as pockets in any dress.