Thanksgiving in NYC

Daddy and Roman take in Central Park. We sorta forgot his coat, so he is wearing about 32 sweaters. Oh the cuteness. Where are those two.....



Photographic evidence of me not letting go of the girl (except for bathroom breaks and eating).



And now Nicolas can say he skated in Central Park. This should really be a video, but I didn't think that fast. I don't know what you call what he's doing here but he landed it. Some sorta jump twist the board in the air thing then landing on the board. I really need to work on my action shot skills. And my skate term skills. And lots of other skills, but I'm trying to keep this post brief.



My 6 and my brother's 4 (mostly in the front there). Roman is being held up by a hiding Daddy, which may explain that "hhhheeeyyyyy!!!!" look on his face. I can't explain the look on Nicolas's face except pointing out that its Nicolas.



And a quick blur of the gorgeousness that is New York at night during the holidays. We spent all Friday in the city with 10 children. Despite how that sounds it was such a dreamy, fun day. Cocoa in the park, playgrounds, FAO Schwarz, a chance encounter with Elmo, and pizza for dinner.

Forgive the family photo indulgence here, but this is what I have to show for the past 7 days!
hope your weekend was wonderful.

kiss, Anna

A is for Always

Whenever I prepare for the holidays, I always think of my American grandmother, Anna Ruth Coble. Her twinkle, her cleverness, her endless work at the kitchen counter, her pies, her potatoes, her laugh, her smile. Several years ago when I was about to cook my first official Thanksgiving turkey in my own home, I thought of this smock-style apron that she always seems to be wearing in my mind's eye. She made it for herself, a fact alone that I adore. It was given to me after she died because we share the same name, and if I had ever thought to ask for just one thing from her home, it would have been this. I knew I had it tucked somewhere, but I almost never wore it so it wasn't at hand. I think I spent so many years with babies spitting and pooping on me that I never gave much thought to kitchen messes. But cooking a turkey was different, I needed her apron. I couldn't find it. I tore the house apart. I realized that I hadn't seen it, perhaps, since before we moved. The dread set in. A sick feeling in my stomach at the idea of loosing it. To bake pies without Grandma's apron seemed almost impossible, like my arms would freeze up rendering me useless at the kitchen counter. But I did. I made Thanksgiving dinner without the apron. It was fine. I'd almost forgotten over recent years that I was missing it. If ever I thought of it, though, my heart would break again.



Until. Last week I was finally putting this place back together after all the Quilt Market messabout. I had taken along the dining room hutch for my booth display which meant I lugged all my linens, platters, goblets, etc. out of it before we left, and they were waiting for me on the studio floor in piles to put back in place. As I carried a pile of linens to the dining room, I dropped a few. And what fell out from between two rarely used tablecloths but the A.R.C. of the Apron! Found! Joy! Thanksgiving! Turkey! Pie! Potatoes! Smile, twinkle, laugh, cleverness and her apron. All of it, it was mine again. Our apron. Thank you, Grandma. We're all headed to George's (my brother) on Long Island tonight to be with him, his wife, two nieces, two nephews, one Juliana and a Juliana-friend too. And the first item packed into my suitcase today? Take a guess.

Now get back in the kitchen!
Lots of love, Happy Thanksgiving, and see you back here soon.
xo,Anna

Now Then. Velveteen.

figure eight scarf

I (possibly like you) have been counting the moments for all of my velveteen fabrics to arrive. And just like introducing the voiles through a little write-up earlier this year where I professed my love and offered my experiences with them, I thought it would be nice to welcome the velveteens in a similar way. Just like the voiles, I think that once you have the chance to touch these velveteens, that no one would really have to warm you up to the idea of bringing a little bit home. But in case you have questions, I thought I would jump ahead with some answers.

Velveteen
Velveteen has in some instances been thought of as a substitute of sorts for velvet, or even a lower priced imitation of velvet. In their most typical formats, there is an inherent difference between the two fabrics. Velvet, traditionally, was woven as two cloths weaving at the same time, continually connected by threads that would then be cut to separate the two cloths from each other, leaving those cut threads as the high piled, textured surface that we are all familiar with. Velveteen's pile is rather made by floating in filler threads throughout the base weaving process, and typically the pile is shorter. There are additional, more advanced processes to create both of these substrates now, but in general they both have a "pile" which give both velvet and velveteen their luxurious feel. Any fiber can be made into velvet or velveteen, but silk and cotton are the most common fibers used. Silk being found more often in velvet and cotton more often in velveteen.


proper attire skirt, option a

My Velveteen
The 100% cotton velveteen that I settled on, in particular, was chosen because the cloth is just so supple, fluid and the pile is not so high that I thought it would interfere with what I am used to in the printing process. The weight is also one that is perfect for just about everything you might use a home decor cotton for, but with the additional luxury of softness and depth of color. In short, it is fancy and snuggly all at once. So bring on the projects: coats, skirts, jackets, baby pants, soft toys, handbags, quilts, little girl jumpers, pillows, coverlets, scarves....on and on!


my winter coat in the making

Cutting
Once I committed to my first project with the velveteen (my Proper Attire Skirt) obviously the first thing that I encountered was the cutting. I was for some reason more inclined to use my scissors than the rotary cutter. There is no real basis for this, but I felt like I wanted a little more control as I went through a thicker fabric. However cutting through two layers at a time for pieces on a fold, or same pieces right sides together, has been easy with both the scissors or the rotary. I would not recommend cutting more than two layers at once, though, because when right sides of the velveteen are together those little fibers act like caterpillar legs and they tend to want to "walk" across each other. So a little position shift can happen that you likely won't appreciate.


multi-tasker tote

Sewing, Needles, Thread, Pinning
One thing I definitely noticed as I sewed was the "snowing" that these velveteens do as you go. In one way the velveteen substrate is feels tightly woven because those "floating" filler fibers are packed in rather snugly. However, once cut, those fibers at the edge come a bit loose and the more you handle the pieces the more loosely woven the edges begin to feel. This really has not been so extreme that I even think about it anymore, just an impression and therefore warning for you. I love snowing. Snowing is my favorite. Zig-zagging or serging edges can definitely help out with this.

I haven't found that the machine thread or needle requirements are really any different than what I would use for a home decor weight cotton. So either 100% cotton, or dual-duty thread, and a sharp tip needle around size 11 or 14 is perfectly suitable. If you sew several velveteen items, you might find you need to clean the fuzz outta your machine a little more often, but in general the sewing isn't too different. But just as with the "walking" legs of the fibers that can happen with several layers being cut at once, this can occur a little as you sew. The velveteen may have a tendency to creep away leaving your aligned edges a little off if you don't stay ahead of it with your hands, or pin. In fact if you're not a pinner (always depends on the project for me) you might want to become one.



Washing, Drying, Ironing
Another thing that I really appreciate about this fabric is how easy it is to care for. Being 100% cotton, it is machine washable and comes out beautifully with perfect color retention, even after a few washings. For a sampling, (see above photo) I washed a fat quarter (18x27") on a cold wash/cold rinse short/gentle cycle with a mild detergent. There is a little more fraying than the standard quilting cotton (a lot more compared to the voile which has almost none) that is noticeable even after just being pulled out of the wash. I dried in the dryer on a medium heat setting and low spin. The shrinkage on the width of the fabric was zero. The shrinkage on the length of the fat quarter was about 1/2"- but the added depth of additional fraying on the length edges causes about an additional 1/2" loss of usable fabric. Therefore, you can expect the total loss of length to be about 1" per half yard or 2" per yard of length. Good to keep in mind when purchasing yardage. I know that my patterns allow about 4" length extra when calling out yardage, as I believe most other patterns do. Dry cleaning is also probably okay too, but as with all cottons, you would want those dry cleaning treatments to be as few as possible.



Some of you might be familiar with a needle board which looks and feels exactly like you might think. It is a small, hard board with thousands of tiny little packed in needles poking up. Most velvets would require that you place the velvet pile (right) side down onto the needleboard, allowing the pile fibers to settle into and between the needles before pressing it on the wrong side. This prevents the iron and heat from crushing the pile thus distorting the surface of the fabric, which can be hard to undo. Good news. I really, really don't think you need a needleboard to press these velveteens. Pressing them on the wrong side at a medium-high heat for me has produced wonderful results with no change in the look of the right side surface. Pressing them lightly with steam from the right side even works out well. I would mention that if you press really, really firmly at seams on the right side, than you will sorta force the fibers to turn down a bit, exposing the inner white of the base of the cloth just a little. So I would just lay another scrap piece of velveteen right side against the piece to be ironed and use that as a pressing cloth if you need to do some firm ironing. This will allow their fibers to settle into one another, and improve your results.


baby-in-the-hood jacket from handmade beginnings

Quilting, Lining, Durability
When combining the velveteens with other fabrics, I have had great results. Yes, I have included them in quilts and I love it! It is definitely a bit bulkier than what you would be used to with a regular quilting cotton, but what soft luxury. The next item on my personal to-do list is a patchwork throw with a mix of all sorts of fabrics, but mostly velveteens. The weight of the goods provides a lot of warmth (but not suffocation) so that I plan to completely forego the batting layer, and just have a lovely patchwork coverlet. This is a similar concept to the little swaddling blankets that we do with voile and flannel, but I plan to make a full size one with hand tacking. I will let you know how it goes! (We have actually had a store-bought velvet quilt which does have batting on our bed for years that I love, but man, it is warm!)

A tip about garments, particularly skirts that you'll likely be wearing in the winter: line them with something slinky, and not a woven cotton. China-silk or similar is perfect. You will likely be wearing tights very often, and you don't want the woven cotton "grabbing" onto your tights as you walk. Also the wrong side of the velveteen needs to be able to fall away as well, and not get hung up on the lining. So even though I would love to encourage you to use my voile solids, instead save those for floaty lining items, garments made from the voile.

Without the benefit of lots of time to test, I would say that this fabric will be durable, but items that are used repeatedly and get a constant source of wear on one spot or another will show such, by the inner white of the velveteen eventually showing as the cushy fibers wear with use. But that never stopped anyone from loving the Velveteen Rabbit, now did it?

Cost
The suggested retail for these goods is $22.00 per yard, but thankfully they are wider at 55", and I think compared to like fabrics in the market place are a very good value. Not just that, but you can use them in sparing ways to make a big beautiful impact.

So do that, and I hope you love them as much as I do!
xoxo, Anna

A Quilt Market experience that we aren't likely to repeat

The simple fact that it has taken me precisely 2 weeks and 2 days to share my Quilt Market experience speaks volumes about what went into it, what it was, what it wasn't and how much time it takes to recover. I know that I am not really sharing photos that you haven't already seen elsewhere (provided you're into that sorta thing), in fact many of these aren't even my photos, but borrowed from my pal April (thank you!).

This year I was so happy to have my mama join me for the first time. I mention this because I always like starting with the good news. Having her with me was definitely the goods news. It is more typical for her to be at home caring for the kids while we (Jeff and a rotating group of employees) are working the booth trip. Fall market always falls near Joseph's birthday. I can typically be back home just in time to celebrate with him on the actual day, or pretty close. But this time it fell smack dab in the middle. This fact, plus wanting my mom to join me, plus some cockamaimee idea that we can handle a lot inspired us to make this market a whole family trip. Unfortunately not the whole family, as Juliana is tucked safely into college. But all available offspring from birth positions 2 through 6, ages 12yrs to 18 months, boys, girls, cranky, happy, you name it, if they live in this house, they came. As we say around here, the whole fam damily.

The trip out involved some peoples flying, some peoples driving, and on the way back it was mostly the reverse, so that every kid got a plane ride. Also, Jeff and I, who drove both ways, could have a rotating group of whiny kids in the not very big cab of the truck that Jeff's dad let us drive but that he thought maybe should be looked at before we go because there could be some sort of grumble, grumble, issue with it, grumble. But off we went (without having the truck looked at, which wasn't MY plan) pulling a Uhaul trailer full of my booth, and our big boys, 12 and just about to turn 11, nestled into the not very big cab of the truck. (I should interject the word cozy here because it should be included but I haven't found a factual way to use it in the description of the trip or the truck yet, but doing such, albeit synthetically, might help my mental state, and eventually my market memories. Where was I?) I would say the trip was pretty smooth and uneventful the first evening of driving from about 6:30pm until about 1:00am. The next morning we headed out after a brief hotel stay, a good breakfast and all was going great until the Uhaul blew a tire somewhere around Texarkana. In fact, right before that I was thinking how ahead of schedule we were and that we should be at the convention center by about mid day and have all of the booth structure up by the close of set up at 8:00. I was wrong about that. We instead spent about 3 or 4 hours repairing a tire (two tires actually, because they weren't the right kind of tires so we had to put the same wrong tire on the other side of the trailer to balance the first wrong tire, so I think that actually two wrongs might make a right) during which I just sat in the not very big cab of the truck and handquilted one of my quilts. I was glad that it wasn't worse, I guess, that it wasn't dangerous and that Jeff is very manly when it comes to side of the road car situations and all that.

This story is getting more detail-y than I thought. I think this is why I put it off.

We didn't get to set up at all that day but rather arrived around 8 or 9pm, just in time to rent a van, and pickup the rest of the kids, Mom, and Alexia (good worker bee) from the airport. It was so good to see the rest of the brood after traveling for two days. We had a very late meal at the hotel and I got my second night of not-great sleep, knowing that we only had one day to put up the whole show, teach my schoolhouse class in the middle of it and salvage what I thought would be fun evenings spent with the family.

I need to interrupt this prose with a bullet point format:

* Set up went smoothly in some ways, screwy in others
* I felt a day behind because of that tire
* I still feel a day behind because of that tire
* My booth contract was for a standard 10'x20' booth, which has 3 walls
* My booth display was created to have 3 walls, due to previous bullet
* My actual booth space at the convention center was a corner with 2 walls
* I had words to say to people about that
* If I had known they were going to give me a corner space, I would have either designed a two wall booth, or thought of some really gorgeous and inventive and promotion driven way to design the back side of the 3rd wall that faced the aisle so that I would not be baring the constructed guts of my booth to the unsuspecting and kind quilt market attendees, but rather using the 8'x10' wall space in a useful, beautiful way
* I thought to pack a fat quarter of all of the new fabrics in my suitcase before I left
* I also thought to pack a sewing machine
* The above 3 bullets + Alexia produced a large pieced, and I'd have to say, rather swanky fabric drape for the outer side of the 3rd wall
* During schoolhouse I thought that maybe my tongue was tied into a knot because there were words that wouldn't come out all the way
* Everyone smiled anyway, then we got back to the booth
* By late in the evening all the booth needed was flowers
* Flowers shouldn't be such a big deal, but for me they are
* I'm sorry about that
* I have a favorite place in Houston to go get flowers so I thought that we should all go together
* A family trip of sorts
* Maybe we could eat too
* It was late
* Too late, really, for a family trip to get flowers and a bite to eat
* I could not let my vision of work + family seamlessly working out beautifully go
* But there was that tire
* And the wall
* And the lost day
* And then there was the fact that we went the wrong way to my favorite place to get flowers, which may or may not have to do with my ability to use the direction thingy on my new phone, this is up for debate, nevertheless the situation produced a very very long trip to get flowers and arriving there just 5 minutes before my favorite place to get flowers was about to close and also produced Roman running out of sitting-in-a-rented-van-waiting-for-dinner-2-hours-past-his-bedtime patience
* This means he screamed his head off for about 30 minutes in the car
* I cried harder than Roman
* The rest of the night involved me going to bed with Roman, without dinner, and the rest of the family eating another very late night meal at the hotel (and it could have also possibly involved Jeff insisting that I eat, me insisting that I sleep, him getting me a meal anyway, waking me up to eat it, me refusing to eat it cause I'd already fallen asleep and was not happy to be awake, then not being able to sleep only to get up at about 2am to eat the (stupid) cold salmon while sitting on the hotel toilet with the door shut so I wouldn't wake anyone up. Maybe.)
* My husband takes very good care of me
* The flowers were beautiful
* In the days that followed, said husband also had the golden opportunity to take care of the truck at a nearby dealer once it started making some unfriendly noises
* $2000 and several shuttles from the hotel to the dealer with most of the kids in tow later, Jeff also managed to get the repaired truck back that would hopefully make it home
* We made it home

In summary, the 3 actual show days involved me smiling, talking, chatting, sharing and getting to say thank you for the booth, the work, my fabric, my patterns, my ideas, my art. Sharing those days with my mom was memorable. Sharing the evenings with my family was welcome, but the children were always all a little weary from being plucked out of their normalcy, Jeff always worn from trying to keep them all entertained without driving himself mad, and me always feeling a little bad that I couldn't let the vision of mixing this all up go. If we weren't aware of how much is too much to take on before, I think we may have an inkling now. Its hard to quantify all the benefits of appearing at market each season to share what I'm working on with retailers, but I know that it has become an inherent part of my process that I would struggle to let go. Bringing the whole family along, I think I can let go. The fact is that it is the only time I get to put it all together physically, in a setting or a staging of sorts, wherein I relish, absorb and understand a little better all that I have been working at. Its my show and my work. My pleasure and my pain. I love each of my little bozos, and my husband bounds more for humoring my dream of trying to make it all work at once. Whew.

If I could leave a frosted brownie at the end of this little ditty to reward you for making it all the way through it with me, I would.
your pal, Anna

In the 2nd grade my teacher nicknamed me Mouth

I talked a lot. I had so much to say. I simply could not manage to wait until the appropriate time to say it. Poor Mrs. Taylor.

This week was not what I expected. I traveled home to mourn the loss of a dear man, the father of a very special family, whom I've adored since early childhood. But it was one of those perfect funerals, if there is such a thing, where there was as much sadness for the loss as there was celebration for the life. With that celebration came the reminiscing, the stories, laughter and memories of a life that could not have been improved and one that I am thankful to share some history with.

Sitting at a luncheon after the funeral, talking to my mom and some of the family members, she brought up something that I had no recollection of from second grade. The conversation had led to the size of my family (as it often does) and she told me that my second grade teacher predicted that I would either be a teacher or have a huge family. After a little back and forth we started to remember the circumstances. There was a little girl, Kelly, in my class who had Down Syndrome that become a good friend. That part, as well as other details, I remember. But apparently, another detail included a day where I had gotten angry and spoke out at Mrs. Taylor for saying something to Kelly that I felt was unkind, and I made such a stink (surely in my 7-yr-old mouthy way) that a conference was called with my mother. Its that part that I forget somehow, that I had been mad at my teacher. What I most explicitly recall, though, is that at some point, likely after the conference, Mrs. Taylor moved my desk next to Kelly's desk and our friendship was nurtured. In the days and weeks of 2nd grade that followed I mouthed off to anyone who said anything unkind to her. It was like my new occupation. I can still remember what it felt like in my chest, like a wadded fiery knot, when someone called her a name or taunted her. It inflamed me. I called one boy a piece of poop. (I clearly remember the most important parts.) Don't think for a minute that this guardian role that was bestowed upon me got me out of getting in trouble for my mouth. Looking back, I have no idea how that poor woman even taught the 2nd grade she spent so much time telling me to shut up. Sigh. But I think it was an exchange that we had. She figured out how to use my mouth to help her do her job, and help her care for and teach Kelly too. Kelly and I had several play dates and she was a sweet, spirited, selfless friend that I won't forget.

The drive back after the funeral produced a realization of how her friendship formed me. It also reminded me of some discipline at home that I need to follow up on. One of my boys, who shall remain nameless here (but it wasn't Roman or Joseph), used the word retarded to insult his brother. Enter: fiery wadded knot. I have just about memorized the lecture that follows whenever I hear this. I could bare to hear stupid, idiot, dumbbutt, goobersmack, uhhh, poop or almost any other word used as an insult. And as a parent of kids in those middle years, I could spend every waking moment saying stopit, quitit, no, uhuh, heyyou, biteyertongue, gotoyeroom, etc. But this time, I decided it was time for him to put his money where his mouth is. So today we are researching charitable groups who aid in the education and care of mentally disabled children so that nameless can donate his next two months of allowance. He will be a kind boy. And mostly he is already. But he will be a completely kind boy who is aware of what comes out of his mouth. Even if it it kills me.

Dear Mrs. Taylor, I am a teacher and I have a huge family and I am still defending sweet Kelly. (And I still earn my nickname everyday.)
love, Anna

p.s. thanks for the memories Mom (that's us at Quilt Market!)

Home

As much fun as it was arranging these (few of many) pillows into my Quilt Market booth, the idea of settling in enough back at home to decide where they really belong in my real house is just plain luscious. I'll be doing some of that along with cleaning, organizing, cuddling and hopefully some nothing too.

Missed you! back here next week~ xoxox, Anna
(speaking of home, the new decor cottons are in! hooray!)