The Pink Dog

In the absence of news of new quilting or other clever creations, and just to keep your interest - this is the other canine friend with whom I share my life. Bella came to live with me about six years ago when she was maybe twelve months old, after some time at the North Melbourne Lost Dogs Home. Her history and her antecedents are unknown but my guess is that she is a designer dog, perhaps a poodle crossed with a terrier of some sort and probably bought on a whim from a pet shop as she would have been a very cute puppy. She is a bolter and a wanderer who runs away if given half a chance, so I presume that is why she was lost in the first place and not claimed again by her previous owners. Although an affectionate, clever and very loyal hound, she still considers an open gate an invitation to head for the horizon, ignoring all instruction to come back while she chases the cats next door or kangaroos that may be browsing nearby. Kangaroos can kill dogs and she had one lucky escape shortly after we moved here, so she must be confined to the large fenced back yard, always exercised on a lead, and tethered on a line if I want her with me as I work around the property. Recently we visited friends who have a two acre block that has dog proof fencing so Bella and Maggie were able to run free while we were there. It was a joy to see.

Down on my knees

Why do some of us seem to work better under pressure, as deadlines approach instead of working steadily towards whatever the goal may be? How many of us find ourselves doing the binding on a quilt or putting on the label the last minute before it is due to be submitted for exhibition or given as a gift? Have you ever worked until midnight before something is due the next morning? Usually the results are OK, but probably not as good as they might have been if done more slowly over time and usually I vow that next time will be different and I shall not procrastinate!

I have known for a couple of months that the members of two local garden clubs were coming to have a look at my garden on Tuesday, and I had plans to have it looking spectacular well before time. Now this is not such a big deal as being part of an Open Garden Scheme and having hoards of the general public traipse through, these people are friends but I still want them to go home feeling it was worth the visit. Hence the title of this entry - no, I have not been having a religious experience, but most of the last three days have been spent on my hands and knees weeding garden beds that had been overtaken by dandelions, thistles, grasses and sorrel and tonight I can hardly move. I am so looking forward to Tuesday afternoon when the garden clubs have been and gone - I intend to spend it playing with fabrics and not feeling guilty that I should be outside.

Another Tiny Treasure

This is another tiny early flowering spring bulb called Chionodoxa sardensis, it is only about 10 cms tall and the vivid blue flower is 1.5 - 2 cms wide. I have a small patch of them that is slowly spreading and the colour is as bright as the photo. They are related to Scilla (Bluebells) and their common name is Glory-of-the -snow. Can you just imagine how gorgeous they would look popping up in a snow covered woodland?

Girl's Day Out

When I moved to this lovely place a couple of years ago one of the things I missed most was my regular sit and sew days with other quilters. We were a group of about eight women who met through a quilt guild as strangers living in the same area, and over a period of years became firm friends who shared ideas and creations, crises and joys. They continue to meet and I see them occasionally but I now live too far away to join them as I did before, and I miss those special friendships and shared interests.

Some months ago I tentatively suggested to some new friends here that we could do a similar thing with each person doing whatever was they wanted, one morning a month in each others homes. We made a rule that there was to be no competetive catering, that we would bring our own lunch, and the hostess would provide tea and coffee only. We are a quilter, one who does tapestry or knits and two embroiders - it does not matter one bit that we do different things and each is interested in the work of the others. We have now met about four times, and each time have had a great day away from our usual chores , demands of families and partners and I'm delighted that the idea is working so well.

Today it was the turn of one of us who actually lives in Melbourne during the week, but is here most weekends, so we three locals decided to visit her in Melbourne. As well as being a skilled needlewoman, this friend is also an avid collector of old linen, vintage embroideries, buttons, old haberdashery, needlework tools, and antique china. We had a wonderful time exploring her city terrace house and her extensive collections, and then headed out to do some retail therapy of our own.

A visit to an importer of Japanese furniture, kimonos and vintage kimono fabrics scored some hanks of silk and a couple of old kimono pieces, then to a specialist stationery shop for archive boxes in which to store textiles and Journal quilts, to a discount fabric shop for some necessary stash additions, lunch in a great Lygon Street bakery called 'Sugadough' and then a visit to an antique shop where we admired the beautiful but very expensive vintage monogrammed French linens and other imported French homewares. None of us made any major purchases, but it was a fun day made so much more enjoyable as it was shared with like minded people who understand a common passion for fabrics and other textiles. Long may these friendships and such adventures continue!

Hunting and Gathering.

Like most quilters I have a stash of fabrics and other supplies that never seems to get any smaller no matter how many scrap or so called "stash buster" quilts I might make. I probably made my first serious quilt about 1980, so my stash of contemporary and vintage fabrics is fairly large. I have always loved cottons made by Liberty of London, occasionally I might buy a special piece, but for many years I have also hunted for shirts and dresses made from these fine cottons in any Op Shop or Thrift Store I can find. Although both my daughter and I can spot a Liberty fabric from metres away, they are getting more difficult to find. Sometimes one can be lucky - a recent Saturday morning trip to a local charity shop resulted in two lovely long-sleeved shirts in a smallish size and fabric design no longer available. The sad part for me was that I think they were probably from someone's estate - they had been carefully labled with a woven name tag, a sure sign that the owner had been living in some sort of residential facility, and now no longer needed them at all. Whatever the story, I imagined her looking silver haired and lovely in her pale blue shirts, wished her well, and knew I would think of her whenever I used some of the fabric. Some bits went into this simple quilt made entirely from Liberty fabrics, made a little while ago for close friends as a birthday and thank-you gift.

Spring is sprung, the grass is riz....

My Father used to quote this little poem frequently when the season was apt. We lived in the USA when I was a child, and this was always spoken with an absurd parody of a New York twang.....the remainder of the poem goes:-

I wonder where them boidies is?

The boids is on the wing.....but that's absoid,

the wing is on the boid.

Another little seasonal quote:-
Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows by itself.

The Gospel According To Zen

and this:-
The grass may be greener on the other side of the fence, but you still have to mow it.- Anonymous

Both true! So that is what I did today - mowed my grass for the first time this season - it smells delicious and looks like the green felt on a billiard table.

In praise of Spring

One day my small woodland area will be carpeted with these - Galanthus atkinsii one of a species of real snowdrops. Last year I purchased half a dozen bulbs from a rare plant nursery on Mount Macedon and this is the first one to flower. It is only about five centimetres tall, and absolutely perfect.