Soaking Rains. . . Sewing Myself Sane (and Frankie is eleven months old today!)

The last time I saw the sun, or the last time I can recall seeing it, I spent a lovely, albeit, very hot day in the yard: mowing, pruning and . . . picking some delicious black raspberries for my smoothies later in the day.
 It's been horrible ever since. 
The weather forced me into needing some indoor therapy and productive days in My Sewing Lair
Days of happy harvesting and romping through the woods for good fruits.
Long . . . ago.

We're veering off the track of food and recipe sharing for a while. I have to be honest, I've been a single lady here at home a lot these past few weeks and finding solace in other areas of creativity--like sewing. Eating, not so much. (Though I did whip up a big batch of chocolate chip cookies and munch on those little guys regularly. I haven't completely lost my cooking/baking mojo.)

Nothing like a trip to the fabric store to cure what ails you, right? I've shopped for fabric lately more than I have for food. I can go hours and hours sewing. It's meditative to me. Time seems to slip by and suddenly. . . it's almost five in the afternoon. 


Right now I have three machines up and running: my twenty-year old Brother, my new Brother 1034d Serger (which I have to say is one of the best friends a sewing gal could ever have--if I could only teach it to cook for me), and my Babylock Jane quilting speed racer (1500 stitches per minute!). 

So let's talk clothes and sewing. I've always been a bit of a clothing "snob"--not in a "trends-follower" way, but just in a way that says clothes to me are an expression of individuality. Going shopping is a painful experience for me. I am critical, skeptical and very picky when it comes to what I will take home and wear. 

When I am at home, I am very casual, yoga-pant wearing. I like very simple lines, and mostly greys, blacks and whites, some beige--maybe a pop of color once in a while. My older self realizes I have been on a long road to finding who I was in terms of my clothing aesthetic. I can remember my days in ready-to-wear and trend fashions feeling like I hadn't a clue as to where I fit in the constant evolution of fashion tastes. (Working as a rep for Tommy Hilfiger once.) So, I get clothes. I just didn't get those clothes all the time.

My mother loved fashion, as did our grandmother. Clothes were always a big deal. My mother sewed for a while, but then somewhere lost interest. When she got too ill to shop, much less dress herself, I can still remember her asking "Does this jacket work with these pants?" Honestly. 

My sewing began in high school--as a means to support myself and dress for special events. By the time high school came around, we had less money. I found a dressmaker in our hometown who was one of my best supporters of my fashion fetish. Consequently, I had to work multiple jobs to be able to afford to have the special occasion dresses made and buy the clothes I needed to wear everyday. Luckily one of the part time jobs I worked was in a fashion forward store. 

The dressmaker woman was amazing. I'd sketch out my dress, she'd help with the details and viola'--my idea made to wear--in my own fabric, with my own details. I was giddy with anticipation at my fittings. 
(It was the eighties so usually my dresses involved a HUGE bow somewhere on the design!)

Today, excitement over sewing is fueled by. . . Project Runway--and a Joann's store not ten minutes from home.

As for what's happening now, I owe much of my recent sewing inspiration to Gertie. 
(Her blog, too.) 
And her books.
Her newest book has been a godsend for my sewing bug. The book is chock full of quick and easy basic pieces. Things you can whip up in an afternoon. Things you will actually wear. 
I made her Easy Knit Pencil Skirt in about an hour and a half. I plan to make two more. One of the prints is in cheetah. 
No zippers! Fits like a dream. 
I bought the last yard and a half of this wonderful jersey stretch poly blend with a bit of texture.
I loved it the minute I saw it. 
The no-roll elastic hem is the ticket with this skirt. 
LOVE no roll elastic waist! Look at that professional serger finished side seam. LOVE.
OMG--is elastic waist wearing taking over my wardrobe because I'm in my fifties?

Then I made Gertie's Sweatheart Knit top to go with the skirt. 
I love wearing jersey knits. Working with them is a bit of a different story.
 But the serger helps a ton in that department. I used a blind hem stitch to finish both pieces. 
I also added twill tape over all the seams for that extra "neatness" factor. 
In the other part of the Sewing Lair, I've had a quilt top pieced and hanging on the wall for months now. It's not a super complicated quilt top design. In fact, it's boring as far as piecing goes. I went on a quilting break then and have since just stared at it. 

Then I started in on free-motion quilting. I've free-motion quilted every quilt I've ever made. I find the homemade and organic look of imperfect quilting and sewing more interesting. Using the 
free-motion foot on my Jane machine is literally making me love this quilt all over again. 
I can't wait to finish it, bind it and give it a good washing. Pictures to come! 
Here she is--the Jane--such a life saver.
And finally, lest we forget our special girls. Today Frankie is eleven months old. She is just as feisty and cray-cray as the day we brought her home. I asked the vet (who also love the Great Pyr breed) when all of this BAD doggie, HORRIBLE puppy time will cease? She said at about eighteen months! *This may explain why nearly all of the Pyrs you find on "rescue" sights are within the approximate age of two or "so"--it takes a special person with a special level of devotion to train, work with and control our little 80 pound monster. 
We love her to pieces.
As we love all of the rest of our canine clan.
Frankie's older sissy--who, god love her, is the best big sissy a puppy could ask for. 
But she tends to get tired of the antics and needs a mommy hug once in a while.
And our most precious oldest, most devoted girl ever. We guess her at about fifteen or sixteen. 
A rescue like our other girl. Every day she wakes up, she's thrilled. 
We are, too.





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