- Maternal instincts of the grand kind: Stitching for the newest member of the family

When we headed up to St. Louis last month for Jackson's second birthday, we returned with a list of projects for little brother Jace who is due September 4th. They have been duly completed with two whole weeks to spare!

First up was a set of four 10"x10" canvases spelling out the new baby's name, two of which were covered with cloth from the woodland crib sheets. Each canvas was padded with white flannel and cloth laced on with heavy quilting thread (which I no longer use for quilting, thanks to Jude Hill). The letters were ably painted brown by Don (aka Pop Pop), but are not yet affixed (so I guess I'm not done done).

Lacing fabric onto a backing is also a great way to make a mount for needlework

Having a fair bit of leftover crib sheet fabric, I decided to tackle my first-ever quilt. The backing was a piece of blue striped flannel (see background in the picture above) and the middle layer was a gossamer piece of harem cloth. After hand quilting meandering vertical lines of variegated green floss between the owls and trees, I zig-zagged a wavy outer border with the sewing machine and cut away the excess cloth with pinking shears. After several washes, the edges have stabilized into a soft fray. I also embroidered letters and numbers along the bottom edge of the quilt, including a run of backward ABCs (for those who haven't yet memorized them) ...

... then stitched Jace's name across the top, followed by members of his extended family tree.

And of course I had to make at least a few new burp cloths, even though there are plenty left over from Jackson. I did notice that the cloths I made the first time around kinda seized up after being run through the washer and dryer, so this time I made raw-edged cloths and washed them a few times to work out the loose threads. So far they are much less inclined to bunch up, probably since there isn't a lot of bulk from turning under the edges.

All that's left to do now (aside from gluing on letters) is wait to learn what birth day stats to stitch into the trees on the quilt and the family sampler. My prediction is that Jace will be 7 lbs 14 oz and that he'll arrive on his due date ... just like his mom.

- Sometimes dreams come true: Or, you can't win if you don't play

Here's an essay that I just submitted to the Central Market 20th Anniversary Contest in hopes of winning a culinary tour of France and Italy ... whether I win or not, it's all true!

I’m Going to Texas: A Foodie Fairy Tale 

Once upon a time, long ago (at the turn of the century) and faraway (in Virginia), I first heard tell of Central Market’s wonders when my husband began consulting in Fort Worth. He would come back to Williamsburg with tales of post-meeting sorties that left my mouth watering.

So I was happy indeed when daughter Meg moved to Austin, where I fell in love with Tortilla Soup from the Central Market Café on a hot summer day in August. Winding through the aisles, marveling at the produce and deli and bakery, I found my Foodie bliss … only to return to the East Coast and rue my fate.

Fast forward to the present: We now live in San Marcos and shop at both local HEB stores, which have many of the Central Market products we’ve come to love.  But I still have a special Central Market shopping list for our weekly trips to Austin, where I stock up on:

• Red boiler onions in Produce – just the right size to zing up Salad Days
• Fresh ground veal and pork in the Meat case – for mouthwatering Meatballs
• CM fresh ravioli next to the Sushi case – which gives new meaning to Leaving the Burg Leftovers
• 5 grain cereal, rolled oats, maple syrup, and coconut flakes from the Bulk Foods section – for the best homemade Granola when combined with …
• CM Arbosana olive oil – a balanced blend of fruit and bitterness, with a gentle hit of pepper for the back of the palate or …
• CM Virgin Coconut Oil – which also makes killer popcorn
• CM organic pasta – capellini so fine it cooks in only three minutes, for a fast dinner go-to
• White Shoyu soy sauce – so delicately flavored it makes sushi sing
• Pasture-raised eggs in the Dairy case– for the lightest, airiest Popovers and Cakes
• CM flour tortillas– freshly made, they are requested by our hosts when we travel to the Midwest and East Coast (along with Salt Lick Chipotle Bar-B-Que Sauce)
• Italian white bread from the Bakery  – perfect for Crème Brulée French Toast … if it survives the dinner bread basket
• Castelvetranos from the Olive Bar – so perfectly brined you can’t eat just one
• Speck (smoked prosciutto) – a Deli case delight that sparks up pastas and salads alike
• Shredded Gruyère from the Cheese case – a wintertime wonder for Onion Soup and Gougères* (light puffs of butter, egg, flour  and cheese)

Central Market even carries Williamsburg Peanut Shop peanuts – for a little taste of what-used-to-be-home.

Of course, the list keeps growing as we encounter new Foodie Finds from Alfajores (buttery cookies sandwiched around dulce de leche) to Chiles (CM Hatch Green Chile Salsa Roja and CM Hatch tortilla chips), all ably accompanied by libations from local brews to worldly wines.

It’s no wonder we’re living happily ever after!

- It's magic: Weaving a cloth patch with four selvages

As part of my early efforts during Jude Hill's online course "Considering Weave" I created a small bit of weaving on a "cloth loom" (some even weave linen stretched in an embroidery hoop). At the time it seemed insignificant so I didn't post it, but here it is for the record:

6-strand DMC floss, green warp, gold weft needlewoven on a 35-count linen "loom"

Today while tidying up I actually toyed with the idea of tossing it, thinking, "What's the use?" As I pondered its destruction, I absentmindedly picked out the linen threads and realized I had managed, quite unintentionally, to create a tiny cloth with four selvages.

Now this was worth saving ... and reiterating. Perhaps I could even control the dimensions.

With a goal of creating a 1 1/2" patch of cloth, I gathered some recently acquired white and black size 10 cotton crochet thread (which I had planned to weave into a tapestry version of the Cape Hatteras lighthouse), a square of green linen cloth (which changed colors in the photographs as the daylight coming in the window came and went), an embroidery hoop, and a very long, very sharp needle.

The steps I followed are documented below with details in the captions:

The green linen was marked in 1/2" intervals and the initial warp was anchored with a waste knot

Spacing the warp every 2 threads of linen seemed too tight

This is the back after I began spacing the warp 3 threads apart. I changed colors using a simple square knot.

I ended up with 8 warp threads for each 1/2" section

Another picture of the back, which didn't change for the duration. Note the loose warp thread at the lower right.

After finishing the warp, I simply brought the thread up to the front (lower left corner) and began needleweaving

When I reached the end of the thread, I buried it along the selvage

Then started a new thread by needleweaving up the other side

Here I left the black weft thread loose in order to try anchoring it with subsequent passes, which worked well

After each pass, I "beat" down the weft with a tiny brush (an unused hearing aid cleaner)

As I reached the end, things got tight so I needlewove one stitch at a time

Along the way I tried knotting some of the weft threads, which didn't work as well as weaving the ends in

Then I cut the woven patch away from the linen "loom"

This was the final back view ... which looked just the same as it did in the beginning.

After picking out the linen from the ends, I had a 1 1/2" square patch with four selvages.

- History continued: Marking stitch and even weaving

Linen napkin made in 1983 for my parents' 30th wedding anniversary

Long ago (in the 1980s) and faraway (in Virginia) I spent some time as the Needleworker at Colonial Williamsburg. In addition to teaching needlework I was given some interesting assignments, one of which was stitching napkins for the dining room in the (then) newly refurbished Governor's Palace.

A Smithsonian Institution publication entitled The Copp Family Textiles (1971) proved most useful as it described how colonial household linens were marked in cross stitch to keep sets together. Similar to modern day monogramming, marked linens usually included a married couple's initials. And, using the Ann Pasteur Maupin sampler as a Williamsburg precedent, it was decided that the back of each Governor's Palace napkin was to look virtually as neat as the front.

My project was overseen by the Curator of Textiles and passed muster. As best I recall, I made ten napkins (give or take). The following year I made a pair at home to give to my parents for their 30th wedding anniversary: B for Barnett, A for Arthur, R for Ruth. The linen was 60 threads per inch, so the marking was only 1" high. And yes, the back looked pretty tidy, which makes sense when you can see both sides.

Back detail

Fast forward 32 years ... as part of my online study at "Considering Weave" I decided to try weaving some 60-count linen by hand. Not having fine enough thread (50/2 was the only linen I had) it ended up closer to 1.75" across.

So far it's been an interesting experience and I'm starting to wonder where my bit of even-weave cloth will end up. I'll have to post another picture when it's complete and off my shadow-box "loom."

Oh ... about the quarter. I grabbed it out of Don's coin jar and realized after snapping the pictures that it's dated 1982, my last year at CW as Needleworker and (no coincidence) the year Meg was born.

- Heart strings: Mending a broken shell with weave

I'm taking an online course called "Considering Weave" at Spirit Cloth. As I've mentioned before, Jude Hill is a gifted teacher, but in this interactive setting, my cohorts are equally instructive.

One posted a woven meditation on beachcombed driftwood and shells, another a piece of driftwood encased in weave (I'm hoping she will grant me permission to post a picture).

Inspired, I dug into my shell basket ...

and pulled out a broken shell gathered six years ago after my mom passed away.

My first task was to figure out how to warp the shell, which took several tries before I found a way to keep the threads from slipping (I used 4 strands of DMC floss, btw).

Then I started weaving the inside with a variegated floss ... which I can't show you because it was "Not good enough" so I tore it out ... but it looked something like this test weave on another shell.

I turned to the front and did what I'm good at: plain weave, plain color ... uniform and consistent.

Then I turned back to the colorful shell interior and decided to make a heart from variegated floss ...

But my inner critic said, "Not good enough" and I began to cut it out ... only to find that I liked the cut threads. So I pushed the two bands together into a rainbow arc before tearing out the heart.

And then I remembered a pink silk scarf of my mom's that I had over-dyed with onion skins. Tearing a strip off, it was so fine that I could thread it on a needle ... the loose fibers like nothing so much as feather down.  I wove the silk from top to bottom, until I missed a thread and the silk became hopelessly tangled in the warp. So I stopped ... and didn't try to fix it.

Nudging the threads of the arc down in the middle I once again had my heart ... this time a broken, frayed version tied by a slender thread to the perfect exterior.

And it was good enough.

- At the beach: Poetry in a tee (or two)

This pretty much sums it up:

- Mountains or beach? Mixed media assemblage

I originally planned to title this post "What's cookin'?" since Don was starting to play around with the welded trio of cake pans I found at Junkology.  As usual, he got ahead of me and had already started painting and placing components for "Beach or Mountains?" so I had to get him to back it up a bit for the photographic record.

And once he got going, things happened fast.

I absolutely love how he can envision something when there is nothing there to see (while I'm much more adept at tweaking something that already exists)

... taking a long-standing Ackert family interview question 

... then turning it into its own answer.

Also as usual, the details are crazy cool:

A knot of floodplain driftwood, the inside of a prickly pear cactus pad, and a bit of metal ...
Can't you just feel the moonshine?

Bits of Nags Head driftwood blowin' in the wind

Time is at the heart of the matter ...

.... and the answer is key

So "show it to your people, don't forget to sign your name."

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The beginning of a long story with many chapters (7)

We've collected ceramics forever it seems. Some pieces have been given to us, but most have been found wandering through galleries, art shows, and antique stores. Not having large wallets, we have a tendency to go for smaller pieces like bowls and mugs ... lots and lots of bowls and mugs!

But with Don's "good eye" in mind, this is the one that made the most sense to start with:

It's not signed, it's probably not old, and it was definitely not expensive (I think we paid $15). But it's one of many things we found in the miles of aisles at the Williamsburg Antique Mall off Lightfoot Road ... each held up in turn for inspection with the inevitable question, "What do you think?"

So reader beware ... there are a lot more stories where this came from.

- Try ... try again (redux): Harem cloth robe

Just about the time I finished the muslin robe (which resembled a hospital gown more than a robe), the harem cloth that Jude Hill recommended arrived from Dharma Trading Company. It was ever so much finer than the muslin. So I started over ...

and made some adjustments (narrower, longer, with some overlap in the front) having learned a few things the first time around.  

As with the first robe, I only seamed the shoulders and everything was done in running stitch with two strands of cotton floss. 

I have no illusions about how sturdy it will be (or rather, how sturdy it won't be), but it's not going to see a lot of heavy use. Besides, it only took a day to make, even though every stitch was done by hand. 

You might say my ugly duckling first effort turned into a swan the second time around ... which reminds me of a story.

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A modern day fairy tale (6)

Once upon a time there was a retired gentleman who thought he had no particular artistic talent. Nonetheless, he decided to try his hand at carving decoys.

His first efforts were somewhat blocky and he simply stained his little wooden ducks rather than attempt to paint the feathers.

As time went on, he read books, went to art shows, watched videos, and bought special tools. He learned to woodburn and paint each feather.  

Slowly but surely he realized that he did indeed have talent and his humble little ducklings grew to be beautiful swans. 

Swan decoy by Donald Bruce Ackert, Sr. aka Pop Pop

Now who does this remind me of ... ?