Fall heads for the exit

 Mr. Gadget and I took a little stroll around the neighborhood this morning--with heavy coats and gloves.  After a rare week of warm temperatures, things are starting to cool off.

"Please don't make me go!"

Looks a little like Target.

A lovely pink carpet

A little much.

He needs a mask.  I'm making plans....

He has a brother.  He's working graveyard.

One pumpkin, four squash, and me!

He refuses to make a smooth transition.

The nicest one on the block...on my own front porch.

Simple, tasteful, just right! 

Sewing machine meets table saw

 I've been sewing more patchwork.  This time on behalf of Mr. Gadget.

He built a lovely new table out of red oak for the basement entryway.  And he requested a patchwork table runner.  He left the fabric selections to me so I chose Christmas prints.  Which means, of course, that there will be more table-runner sewing in my future after the seasons change.

There are an abundance of Mr. Gadget's tables around our house.  Many of them are handy for my various piles of interest.  Sometimes new hobbies require new tables.  If lined up in a row they would likely stretch to the end of the driveway and back.

Now I'm thinking about making a runner for the dining room table.  I think I've still got my patchwork mojo working and I've got my piles of Christmas fabric at the ready.  If only I had a table for them. 

RBG

 She lives on in felt.

You've gotta know she's rolling over in her grave.

This one is a gift for someone who's a big fan.  It should be arriving today with the speed of a mail-in ballot.

A mixed bag

 A short walk around the neighborhood this morning gave me quite a fright.  A snake among the pumpkins!  But not to worry.  It was a squash, or a gourd, or something.  Guaranteed to keep the little goblins away.

After a road trip earlier this week to visit my friend other Marcia for some of her great homemade pizza, and an envelope-making tutorial, I came home and made these:

It was a chance to recycle some of my old craft magazines.  Now I'm going to have to send more cards and write more letters.  Thanks, Marcia, for a new hobby!

I took along a "thank-you" ghost for her to add to her collection of my other critters that she's so graciously strewn around her house.  (Sorry I didn't take some time to prepare a more colorful backdrop.)

I've added a few more pieces to my patchwork thingy.  The patches on the left are the newest ones--in fall colors.  At some point, after it reaches a certain size, I will decide what it will be.  Meanwhile, I'm giving thought to harvesting a few old garments from various closets to add to the piece.  

The weather people say the colors are at their peak here in Connecticut but Mr. Gadget and I don't agree.  There's still plenty of green in the trees.  It is beautiful though and shouldn't be long.  There are some sunny days ahead and even a couple of days forecasted to be in the 70's.  Nothing makes a California gal happier than east coast colors with west coast weather!

Fall in the Treehouse

 

Now that it's October it's time to make ghosts.  This is what I've got so far.  

So, I mentioned that Big City Girl spent this past weekend with us. A strange thing happened on Sunday morning and, since I'm already talking about ghosts, here are the spooky details.  Mr. Gadget and I were relating a few stories about interesting and unusual occurrences that happen in the condo from time to time.  One of those is the mysterious activity of the ceiling fan in the guest room. Sometimes it goes on by itself.

"Oh wow!" BCG exclaimed.  "It was on when I woke up and I don't remember turning it on."  After some discussion we concluded it was possible that someone in the condo next door (a mirror image of ours and just across a grassy area) turned one on with their remote control and it reached across the grass and turned ours on too.

Mr. Gadget, who doesn't believe in any of this nonsense, promptly got up out of his chair and walked over to turn off the wall switch.  "Now there's no power to the fan," he said.  "No way will that happen again."  But if it did, he assured us, he would be leaving the house without stopping to pack a suitcase.

Stitching squares

 

The days go by, the unfinished projects linger, and the recliner calls.  Maybe I'll sew some 2" squares together....by hand.  With the stack o' squares given away as a promotional item by my local fabric store a couple of years ago.  Maybe I'll stop in and ask if they have any more stashed in the storeroom. Maybe not.  After all, I have those lingering unfinished projects.  Now, what to do with them.  Possibly a zippered bag.

So, we had a very nice visit with Big City Girl over the weekend.  Mr. Gadget and I drove to Brooklyn to deliver a new big-screen TV.  Mr. Gadget is known to spring a surprise gift on her every now and then....even one that has to be schlepped up a rickety narrow staircase to the third floor.  She came back to Connecticut with us for a couple of days and returned home by train....with mask on, hand sanitizer at the ready, and fingers crossed.  Train to Grand Central was not crowded; subway to Brooklyn was.  Hoping she stays well, but if not at least she has a nice TV to watch.

I just finished a good book and have started another.  Similar, yet different.  Meet me at the Museum by Anne Youngson and Mrs. Bridge by Evan Connell.  My book selections vary, but I'm mostly a fan of memoirs and books about people--the quirkier the better.

Now I should get back to work on a needle-felted commission piece.  I usually don't do those--especially a duplicate--but this is for a friend who wants to gift it to a friend who she says will REALLY appreciate it.  How could I say no?  I will share it later.  Best to keep it under wraps for now.

I hope everyone is doing well and staying somewhat sane in these almost too-crazy-to-believe times.  I'm grateful for the Treehouse where I can stay safely above the monkeys.

Pencils on pencils

 It's not easy to make a decision when you have 72 colors to choose from, but I made an attempt on my black and white pencil mask.

I managed to get the last small bottle of textile medium at Joann's which, when brushed over the colors, kept my coloring crisply inside the lines.  While water works fine when coloring on paper, it doesn't do the job on fabric.  The colors wander outside the lines.  I think that's called wicking.  I am very happy with the vibrant colors I'm getting.

Here is a first attempt on paper.  My drawing isn't the greatest but I love the colors. I did this rather hurriedly so didn't worry too much about staying inside the lines, but it is do-able.  I used a fine point black pen after the page was dry.

It's a beautiful day in Connecticut and the weather is getting cooler.  Some of the trees are dropping their leaves, but there's no noticeable color change yet.  It won't be long until road trips will be in order.

Strut your stuff!

I promise this will be my last chicken post.

He's pretty much done, but I'm sure I'll add more fiber.  I'm happy with the way he turned out, and very appreciative of Mr. Gadget's engineering knowledge to insure he stays upright.  That's the chicken I mean.  Mr. Gadget is still upright....even though this is a holiday weekend and he's well-supplied with wine.

Here's something from my sketchbook.

Not a chicken, but close enough.  And good words to live by.

Now I'm moving on to play with my new toys.  A 72-pencil set of Inktense colored pencils.  Color, then brush with water to get very vibrant colors.  Or, color on fabric and brush with textile medium.  You can probably guess which of those options I will be using the most.  The pencils and I are still getting acquainted, but once I've gotten to know them I'll share the results.

Happy weekend everyone.  It's beautiful here in Connecticut, and the motorcyclists are strutting their stuff!

The chicken that couldn't cross the road

He's still under construction, but soon will have legs attached and the ability to wander around the house, and maybe even across the road.  During my morning walk I always check out the chickens next door (who live very harmoniously with the turkeys) to assist me in figuring out where to place the legs, and where more feathers might enhance his whimsical chicken appearance.  It's a bit of a nature study.  By the way, I haven't seen the ducks lately so I'm speculating that maybe they've been trucked off to the local French restaurant.

It wasn't my plan to make a chicken.  I had a big blob of felt that was destined to become a cat in a basket.  But then I lost interest in the cat idea and decided I could probably poke and prod the blobiness into a chicken shape.  It's the biggest decision I've made since March.

I have several other projects underway.  I'm adding flowers to a jeans jacket that has long been a work in progress.  I'm also making a patchwork Christmas stocking.  I have no deadlines looming because of craft show cancellations so I'm kind of like a free-range chicken in my Treehouse.

My "knitted" chicken

At one time in my crafting life I did latch hooking.  This involved using a special hook to attach short pieces of yarn to a mesh backing.  I made several rugs this way, and also a couple of wall hangings--one of which was a rooster.  I hung it on a wall in my apartment.

So yesterday I was emailing with an old friend from my working days.  She's also a crafty person and I sent her a picture of my unfinished needle-felted chicken.  She has a good memory and she reminded me of what one of my old boyfriends said when he visited. "Did you knit that chicken?"  We had another good laugh all these years later.  

I knew Mr. Gadget was a keeper when I discovered he knew the difference between rug hooking and knitting.  And also that he would be accepting of my "piles of interest."  Those can usually be found beside each of my chairs and, more often than not, collecting on a floor somewhere.

As I mentioned, this chicken is a needle-felted one.  I'm referring to pictures but otherwise just winging it.  I like the idea of a whimsical chicken in bright colors, so the orange is the base color and others will be added.  I'll have to make some chicken legs and make sure he can stand up.  Or, if that's too challenging he'll be a sitting-down chicken.  Or maybe he'll be a rooster.  My poultry knowledge is limited.  

I do, however, know that these guys are turkeys.  They live next door.  You just never know who's going to move into the neighborhood.

Two bags and two chickens

A few years ago, before my grey hair, Mr. Gadget and I traveled to Grand Cayman with some friends who had a timeshare there.  Strangely, but apparently not too unusual on tropical islands, there were chickens roaming freely.  I seem to remember a story about hurricane winds scattering cooped-up chickens, and then the nearly impossible task of re-cooping.

So here I was sitting by the pool doing a little chicken embroidery, and someone suggested I show my work to the visiting chicken.  It didn't seem to make an impression though and chicken walked on hoping to find french fries. 

I decided a few days ago to make another bag like the one on the left. I sewed Lefty using some fabric I received as a bonus gift with a magazine subscription.  The bag and I have done lots of traveling. It's just the right size for everything I need.  At some point, after we downsized our home, I downsized my handbag.  I didn't really need all the crap girly necessities I always thought I needed.  I threaded a hook on the strap and sewed a loop to my sunhat so I can carry that along on a hot day.  It holds my mask too.  Who knew?

Righty, still in progress, is being sewn from fabric I found while digging through the strata here in the Treehouse.  It's denim from which I had long ago cut out a jacket, and then promptly lost interest.  But the back piece had enough yardage to allow for the bag.  The pattern is just something I cooked up.  I'll put a dark blue cord strap on it, and a small patch pocket on the lining inside.  I have some blue velcro for the closure--thanks to the combo lunch/velcro shopping trip I made to the big city with Big City Girl.

So, there you have it.  This just goes to show that a person doesn't need anything special to blog about.  Any old thing will do.

What to do when the power goes out

First you curse.  Then you discuss with your husband just how long you think the power outage might last.  And then you get hit with high winds that are Isaias's final blast and you decide that it might be awhile.  But you never suspected it would be 4+ days.

Thankfully, you have a portable generator that will keep you going somewhat.  You have to feed it gasoline but it will keep your fridge cold and, most important of all, allow you to make coffee.

Mr. Gadget was our designated gas gopher, and our neighbor pitched in because we were sharing our power with him via a long extension cord.  I rode along on the first gas outing, but then allowed Mr. G to go on his own. He was not in a good mood and my coping abilities are minimal before I've had my coffee.

So now we're through that ordeal and back to the regular ordeal of pandemic life.  Here are a couple of my ordeal projects:

A patchwork placemat--one of two--that I finished on the sewing machine. I practiced my hand-stitching until my stitching finger got sore.  I haven't been kind to it over the years.

I also did a decoupage project.  This was a box Big City Girl had given me, and I hope she isn't annoyed that I refashioned it.  These cute sheep were just the right size and were begging me to put them on the cover.  

I didn't do a very good job, but then I'm not a decoupager by nature.  I'll find some clear tape to doctor up the edges.  

So that's what I did during my prison time vacation from electricity.  

A study in red

 

Why should an antique rocking chair be boring?  Just send hubby to the paint store and have him get a can of redder than red.  You'll end up with Atomic Red.

It's added a nice bit of color to the Treehouse.  I'm sure Grandma won't mind.  She's been gone a long time, and if she's speaking to me I can't hear her.  I'm not so sure about my cousins, who are still very much here and might remember this chair when it was a fixture in Grandma's living room.

I had hoped the doll would be a little larger...to be more of a presence in the chair.  As I mentioned before she is the first of two dolls.  She still needs glasses and a handbag.  I'll get around to it.  I've named her Bertha--after Grandma's housemate.  The second doll will be Iva.  That was her childhood friend from Maine.  I always used to giggle when I'd hear her say "eh-ya!"  She lived in the small apartment just off of the garage.  Grandma's name was Ferna.  Bertha, Iva, and Ferna.  They were quite a trio riding around town in the big ol' Plymouth.

So now I must go.....before the hurricane winds pick up and we lose power.  Good thing I've had a lot of practice sitting in my recliner doing nothing...

Gardening

This is my kind of gardening.  No dirty fingernails.  No sweating. No bending over.  I realize I don't have a big variety of flowering things in my garden. I probably should branch out but I really prefer mystery plantings that I make up in my head.  Sometimes I even add a few beads. Seed beads...

I find this activity very relaxing in light of the fact that everything outside of my Treehouse gardening shed is one giant compost pile.

So, Mr. Gadget and I live in a very nice condo complex that sits right on a state road.  There was lots of traffic when we moved in, but a bypass was in the works that soon diverted most of it.  For some reason the weekend motorcyclists prefer the old road.  I guess they like to mosey.  Although they do occasionally take the bypass to see how many decibels they can crank up when the police are on a coffee break.  Either way the noise can ruin a good nap. 

Then there are the chickens.  They belong to the residents of a small house just to the south side of our development.  We're on the north side--which is fine with me because I like to sleep till 7:30. That's long after the rooster begins his cockadoodles. There are also ducks and a small flock of turkeys.  Sometimes they all join in song.  We've wondered if there'll soon be goats, but so far so good.  Although I don't mind admitting I like to watch baby goats when they jump and prance.  I'd have to take my lawn chair down there in that case.

Yesterday we noticed two porta-potties and a tent in their barnyard. Immediately I thought maybe the circus was coming to town.  Then I considered other possibilities: a party,  a wedding, or a good old- fashioned revival. I think I'll stay on the lookout for elephants just in case...  

My feelings exactly

Here's my grumpy old lady doll in progress.  She looks like I feel, except she needs an angrier face.  I can fix that.  Haven't we all just had enough?  We need a fairy godmother.  Or maybe a fairy dogmother.  I saw that on the side of a truck this morning.  I don't care which.  One or the other. Someone who can wave a magic wand and make our current depressing state of affairs go away.  

This is one of two dolls from a pattern by Sweet Meadow Farm.  I bought it a long time ago with the idea of making the pair to sit in my grandma's old rocking chair.  And now that I have no plans or deadlines....or cruises.....I have plenty of time to make these ladies.  And, hopefully, I'll get them finished before I am one of them.  Oh, wait a minute....

This one kinda reminds me of my grandma--the mother of dear ol' dad.  She lived up the street from us during my growing-up years. She had two friends who lived with her--one who she'd known since childhood--and they had the babysitting monopoly in town.  When they got so busy they couldn't accommodate their regulars, grandma would tell them, "but I have a granddaughter..."  That's how I amassed my impressive record collection.

Grandma always wore a flowered dress and little old lady shoes (size 4-1/2).  At one time those shoes were quite the thing among young women and she donated a couple of pair to my sister. How she was able to fit into them I don't remember, but they did have open toes. Grandma always carried a handbag with a ball of crochet thread and a hook.  She never went anywhere without her handwork. Rarely do I either. We were alike in many ways, well, except for the flowered dresses.

After Grandma was widowed she learned to drive.  The job of teaching her fell to my dad--bless his heart!  Grandpa had left her with a big old Plymouth sedan with a stick shift, and a skinny driveway with two hills.  Eventually she mastered the task--at least well enough to pass her driving test and to drive all of her friends to the senior citizens center once a week.  I don't remember ever riding with her.  After all, I had records to listen to.

A few years ago I was sitting around reminiscing with some of my relatives. My dad's cousin happened to mention that my grandma had a reputation in the family for being a little ditzy. I certainly don't remember that about her.  She was just Grandma who gave nice hugs, had a big toy box in her hall closet, and baked chocolate chip cookies.  Who knows what they'll say about me after I'm gone.  Is ditziness genetic I wonder?

Happy 4th...a little late

Back when I was making dolls, I had a character for almost every holiday.  They all started with the same basic doll pattern and then I accessorized to suit the character.  I got lots of mileage out of that pattern.  In fact, I had to duplicate it several times because it got tattered and worn.  It's one of the reasons I save paper grocery bags.  They work well when I need to make a pattern because they hold up well to lots of pinning.

Sometimes I'd get a request for a different sort of character.  I made a lion once.  Then there was a teddy bear and a gingerbread man, and a pilgrim couple. One of my favorites was a red hat lady.  

I accumulated quite a collection.  Several are pictured in my blog banner.

I eventually ran out of gas for making these dolls--which I referred to as the beanbags for their weighted bottoms and chubby appearance. But I still have all of my patterns and I could jump back in whenever the mood strikes me.

So Mr. Gadget and I have decided to skip our annual summer trip to the Calcondo.  With the virus being under control here in Connecticut, and threatening to run amok in California, it seemed like a wise decision  We've alerted our neighbors and made arrangements for our car to be exercised.  I'm sure the spiders will be settling in.  If they decide to have a party, we're hoping they'll leave the wine alone.

And now, as if the virus wasn't enough, we're hunkering down for Tropical Storm Faye.  She's making her way north.  Mr. Gadget thinks only of the potential for a power outage and the likelihood of being without his gadgets. I, on the other hand, think of it as an opportunity to sit in my recliner, read my Kindle, enjoy some snack meals, and crank up the camp lantern.  "Think of it as an adventure!" I enthusiastically suggest.

He's gone off to the man cave to sulk.

Mask up!

Life continues to get more complicated.  There was a day when a gal could just grab her handbag and her car keys and go.  Now she needs a check list: cell phone, grocery bags, reading glasses, hand sanitizer, wipes, mask and a water bottle. This all in addition to the handbag and car keys.  It makes a gal wonder why she should ever leave her recliner.

You will notice that I've made a few more masks.  It started when I offered to make Mr. Gadget a spare.  You may remember the wine-cork one I made for him a while back.  This one has bicycles.  Mr. Gadget loves his bicycles.  He has an east coast one and a west coast one.  Just like me with my two sewing machines, although his bicycles burn carlories and my sewing machines not so much.

Yesterday I noticed that my sunglasses were a little loose and were starting to fall down over my mask.  So I asked Mr. Gadget if he had a gadget that could help him do a repair.  After a bit of searching through his tools he was confident he did.  It wasn't long before a string of expletives began to waft up the stairs.  I've learned not to panic unless I see blood.  Long story short: I'm due for some new glasses anyway, and Mr. Gadget doesn't think he needs to see a doctor for the hole in his thumb.

So the elves-on-ladder project is coming along.  I'm in the glue-up process (a woodworking term that works for felting too).  All of the components are being affixed and the elves will be ready for some serious Christmas-tree decorating soon.  I'll have to think of a way to hold them back until December.  The pub is a possibilitiy.

Neat and tidy....for a few minutes anyway

I finally got my fabric organized.  Well, I should say, some of it.  It's all thanks to the dollar store where I've managed to collect an assortment of canvas collapsible boxes.  They're just the right size for my big cubby thingie.  So now, what should I make?  All of this neatness kinda puts me off-balance.

Then, while I was searching around for an old padded envelope that I could re-use to mail something to Big City Girl (the dollar store was out of those) I found a pattern for a Christmas stocking.  And I thought maybe it would be fun to make some patchwork stockings.  And then I thought maybe it would be best to finish the patchwork jacket first.  And maybe the needle-felted elves and the ladder project.  And that's what happens.  By the time I get to the deciding part it's time to make dinner.

Haute Couture

Last week I got a new phone...not that I needed one.  My old phone was serving me well.  I'm a gal who rarely uses her phone and considers it mostly just for emergencies.  But Mr. Gadget believed I needed to be more modern and up-to-date.  If I had my way I'd retire completely from the technology world.  Well, almost. I do enjoy writing the blog. And I like the occasional texting to and fro with Big City Girl.  Just not the part where I have to dish out mom advice in short, quick pokes.

So here I am now with my brand new phone and, thankfully, a book entitled I-phones for Seniors.  I almost made it to Chapter 2 before I had to ask Mr. G to translate a few tech-speak abbreviations. WTH!  Obviously there needs to be a book called I-phones for Senior Dummies.  

One of the first things I did was make my new phone a patchwork jacket.

I've made several of these phone jackets for friends.  The biggest challenge was finding Velcro in the colors I wanted.  Lucky for me, I live just a train ride away from NYC and the garment district.  Big City Girl was happy to meet me for lunch and Velcro shopping.

I lost my previous phone jacket in a restaurant near San Francisco.  It would have been too small for my new phone anyway.  Sometimes when something goes missing I just accept that it was ready to be adopted by a new owner.  So I hope that person is enjoying a pretty red and purple handmade phone jacket that's been around the block a few times.

More patchwork

While Mr. Gadget and I were at the Calcondo earlier this year I made a patchwork jacket.

It was a rather ambitious project I must say. There was a time, many years ago, when I made most of my own clothes. Sometimes I even ventured outside the box and attempted to copy something that had intrigued me. So when I had the idea for the patchwork jacket, I was hopeful my old sewing skills would come back to me.....kind of like riding a bicycle.

It all started with a vision of something in black, white and gray.  It came to me after browsing online to see what other creative jacket makers were doing.  I especially liked Pearl's. So I searched for a pattern and started in...with the idea that this project would be an experiment.  Maybe it would match my vision.  If not, I would tweak it a bit to see if I could beat it into submission. And if nothing came of it, it would go right to the scrap heap.  It certainly wasn't a big investment.  It would be constructed with fabrics from my stash and a few small purchased pieces to complement what I had.

I'm very happy with the result.  It fits well, partly because the front fasteners are only on the top half and allow for plenty of ease over the hips....which is a great benefit for a woman whose hips are from another era.  If I make another one, which I'm already contemplating, I will make it a little longer.  And I might leave off the collar.  Something in dark blues and rust tones might be interesting.  I'm already salivating.  But first, I have to clean my plate.

Small fibers of goodness

There's a lot of bad news at the moment.  Sad, depressing, discouraging news. But I do have a few small tufts of good news to report. The neighborhood birds have made use of my repurposed Clementine bag o' fiber in their nest constructions.

This morning Mr. Gadget decided to dismantle the annual bird nest at the top of our deck awning. I had admonished him to wait until it had been vacated, and no peeps had been heard for a week or two. Today I gave him the go-ahead. Those birds were an industrious bunch with a substantial construction crew.  When the twigs and feathers started to land on the deck below I was able to see the fruits of my efforts.

Mr. Gadget rolled his eyes when I told him I'd sweep up the mess because I wanted to pick through the debris and maybe take a photo or two. 

Next year I will crochet a small bag for the fiber.  I have the perfect cording I discovered during an archeological dig here in the Treehouse.  And maybe I'll add some brighter colors to the stash.  Perhaps that will result in more interesting debris to examine.  I am easily amused.

If only the world's woes could be remedied with a small bag o' fiber.

A chronic case of startitis

During my not-so-serious quest to clean up the Treehouse during my stay-at-home time I've uncovered a few, I mean a really big  collection of, old projects that I never finished. I'm trying not to fret. I know I'm not unlike a lot of other creative folks whose imaginations crank out ideas much faster than their hands can keep up.  

Sometimes I think of my craft room as an archeological site.
Here's what made it to the surface over the weekend:

It's my collection of fabric patches that I had planned to use to make a bag (http://www.teeshamoore.com/portfolio/fabric-art/).  At some point I ran out of steam.  This happened after I realized just how many patches a bag would require.  I very quickly came to my senses and stashed the patches in the Treehouse closet---destined to become part of the strata.  

Recently I excavated them. I've decided to stitch them together into a wallhanging.   I have more patches to add, and more patches in mind to make, so it may forever remain a work-in-progress. A perpetual personal totem as it were.

Another relic from the site is my bag o' scraps. 

Some of those have now become a placemat.

I guess you could say I also suffer from chronic hoarditis...