In an effort to find some escape from world news this week, I spent time at my Bernina, working on a spur-of-the-moment project.
After we did our house renovations here in Vermont we moved our furniture from our previous house into the new space. We dreamed of “someday” swapping out the old pieces for some that fit better into the updated living room. Almost six years later, we finally have a sectional sofa…one that you can sink into and soak in the view…one that stands up to the fun of grandchildren, cats and boisterous gatherings (someday soon?).
And just FYI, we have nearly found homes for the pieces that we no longer need.
We wanted to keep the old ottoman, but give it a facelift, so I went to my fabric cupboard. After a bit of rummaging I squealed with delight when I found a pair my grandmother’s linen curtains.
As I have written about before, I grew up next door to my paternal grandparents and adored my grandmother. She was stern and a bit distant, but I loved her dearly. Her home was gracious and lovely, and if you looked closely you could see signs of her Yankee frugality everywhere. When a bedsheet showed signs of wear, she would cut it down the middle, flip the worn middle part of the sheet for the sturdier edges and sew it back up the middle. She also tended gorgeous perennial beds nearly every afternoon when she got home from teaching English at our local high school.
Gram had a tiny sitting room tucked away from the main living space in her home. She called it her “shell room”, where she had a beautiful collection of sea shells displayed on a tall, skinny bookcase. These curtains hung on either side of a dutch door that led out to a porch, set atop the roof of her tenants’ porch below. I remember sitting with her on a metal glider as dusk fell, just talking quietly about our days.
Gram died just a week short of her 91st birthday, and I was gutted by her departure from this world. When my dad was working to clear out her place, I headed East (from Chicagoland) and collected a few domestic treasures from her kitchen and cupboards (and curtain rods). Nearly thirty years later they remain some of the workhorses in my kitchen, and I remember her every time I use them. She is still with me in so many ways.
The selvedge on the fabric reads “Puritan Linen, Design Chartreuse”. Here you can see some of my Gram’s meticulous hand stitching (she did not own a sewing machine) and her stork scissors.
I had barely enough fabric to make this slipcover work, and I sewed it to highlight my Grammie’s stitches alongside those of my beloved Bernina. It had to be frugally pieced, and so the design repeats are choppy, but I think that adds to the charm. I have two small pieces left, so this fabric will show up again, somewhere else. :-)
It’s funny that I love this so much. Much of our home is Shaker simple, but I guess I value sentiment and repurposing as well.
I got my first shingle shot last week and spent a few days laying low. I read Rhys Bowen’s book The Venice Sketchbook cover to cover in a day. What a luxury to clear my calendar and sip tea and read all day! If you are looking for an escapist read, this book is a gem.
This week we had very moderate temperatures. Some folks have already started to tap their maple trees. The road turned to deeply rutted mud tracks and then froze solid overnight. Today 8-12” of snow is falling. When we heard the forecast, we took a small chicken out of the freezer to roast today. My tiny 2022 harvest of windowsill Meyer lemons will flavor the bird, along with wee onions from the gardens here at our bit of earth. How I wish I could set a spot at the table for each of you, dearest ones. We could hold hands around the table, exhale and sink into a moment of silence and then share a meal. It would be lovely to have your company.
For now, I send comfort to each of you, as we hold our breath and wait to see what tomorrow will bring.
xo