the end of march and her precious snowdrops

snowdrops blooming under one of the crabapple trees.

One of my favorite books from my grandmother’s library, along with some vintage buttons from her sewing box. Fabric is a Liberty of London cotton floral. (I think the book may have come to my grandmother via her Aunt Adelaide.)

“Friend in need—hope”

With a flourish, on the page facing the inside front cover.

Friends, I offer this post as a place holder, while we tend to some things that need to be tended to. Not to worry. Sometimes life just puts a little squeeze on us, eh? I’ll be back here as soon as I can be, with fun updates. xo

"tiny and new"

Hello friends! It’s official, happy spring! (At least here in the northern hemisphere.) The brave little snowdrops are blooming, the pussy willows are fluffing up and we leave our bedroom window open a crack to listen for the spring peepers to begin singing (not quite yet.)

And I continue to sew away my anxiety about the world! My sewing studio provides sanctuary and I remain grateful for its shelter.

The other day I popped into our local-ish quilt store to buy a spool of thread and some quilt batting for my next collaborative quilt (more on that later this month.) As I stood at the counter to pay, a mini charm pack began to call to me. For those of you who may not know what a charm pack is, let me explain. Many fabric manufacturers put together bundles of pre-cut fabric squares. They include bits of a complete line of fabric from a given designer, often in the entire color range. The one that was calling to me was a packet of 2.5” squares, in the sweetest range of colors. The line of fabric was called tiny and new. It’s as if that little packet of fabric knew I was the grandma of a tiny and new baby boy.

I don’t usually fall for the tricks of fabric marketers, preferring to use fabric from my stash, or old clothes or vintage linens. But I fell for it. I bought that little charm pack. I brought it home and sewed those little squares together lickety split. Then I pulled a linen/cotton blend out of my stash and stitched it together with the squares to create a “tummy time quilt”, for little Theo to hang out on.

I used a grey and white checkered gingham for the backing. I had bought it for a summer top that never got made. The binding was sewn with some leftover fabric from a project I made from Umbrella Prints, a now defunct fabric company in Australia.

This little quilt came together in just a few days and Theo has already found it in his mailbox. :-)

As many of my long time readers know, I have deep connections to my alma mater, Earlham College. There are so many stories I could tell of how this special liberal arts college tucked in a small town in Indiana has touched my life over the years. Here is one of the sweetest stories of all…

When our son Stewart was born, one of my dearest college friends, Martha, sent him a bunny. “Bunbun” was cherished for years, tucked under Stewart’s arm on car trips, snuggled into bed with him and packed into Stewart’s footlocker when he went off to summer camp. True confessions? “Bunbun” even went off to college with Stewart. I took a picture of him sitting in his dorm room at the beginning of New Student Week (at that very same college that brought Martha and I together), holding up the bun for documentation! For the sake of privacy, I will not post that here. :-)

Imagine how my heart melted when Stewart sent this photo of Theo with Stewart’s bunny by his side.

No matter what, friends, there is still strong love and hope alive and well in this world. We may need to look for it sometimes, but when we find it, it’s worth talking about and sharing. xoxoxoxoxoxox

PS Ann (another Earlham friend) had asked for info on how to care for amaryllis plants in the comments on my last blog post. Look here for lots of good stuff about amaryllis.

holding as steady as we can

Looking north, from the top of our driveway, taken this morning.

Hello friends,

The temperatures up here fluctuate a lot this time of year…freezing cold overnight and somewhat warmer during the day. These are the days of sugaring here in Vermont, when the sap runs from the taps. It’s also when the roads soften up, get muddy and become rutted by the tire tracks, creating what amounts to carnival rides to town. On Thursday I noticed our road had been “posted” at the bottom, notifying drivers that there are now vehicle weight limits due to the muddy conditions. Any sort of big deliveries will need to wait until the roads dry out in a month or so.

My friend Becca came by for tea and a walk on the road on Friday morning. As we were sitting in the kitchen we spotted a red winged blackbird in the lilac out front, which, in turn, reminded both of us that we had seen bluebirds in our neighborhoods. We put on our boots and jackets and headed out onto the road and could smell spring in the chilly air. Snow melt was gurgling under the culverts and out into the meadows below. Some of the trees are coloring up with their brave little buds. But as we walked, we could also see the looming clouds, scuttling along ahead of the forecasted winter storm.

Amaryllis and other bulbs, getting ready to bloom on the windowsill. Photo taken this morning, after the storm blew in yesterday and last night.

This morning, after a stormy night, we awoke to fresh snow, sculpted into lovely drifts by the wind. We know this “sugar snow” won’t last long, as the warmth of the sunshine lasts longer each day.

I have recently picked up my darning egg and done some literal mending. Meditating on fixing broken and worn things, I keep thoughts of our world close to my heart. Some days I feel more powerless and sad than I ever have in my whole long life.

So I go in search of relief. I have listened to this episode of On Being several times. Krista speaks with Christine Runyan in an episode first aired in March, 2021, called “What’s Happening in Our Nervous Systems?”

Another episode, “Trauma, the Body, and 2021”, with Bessel van Der Kolk is worth a listen.

Both of these episodes acknowledge, honor and explain the trauma we are all living with. They offer insight and strategies for navigating these times. Perhaps you will find some comfort in these conversations…

The second stalk sent up on a sturdy amaryllis bulb gifted to us by beloved neighbors down the road, ready to bloom!

I read a fascinating article to inform some of the volunteer work I do here in Central Vermont. It’s a long and deep dive into food insecurity, but it’s filled with great ideas that are working in our rural neck of the woods. “How Pandemic Need, Federal Dollars and Local Collaboration Are Driving Better Ways to Help Food-Insecure Vermonters” maybe be a daunting title, but if you read it, you’ll come away with hope for the future. It reminds me of why I love living in a small, rural state, where people pitch in to help one another. You can find the article here.

And here’s another dose of hope. Remember the British artist I mentioned in my last blog post? As of last Thursday, Hannah Nunn had raised over 10,000 pounds with her sunflower cutouts to aid Ukraine. Go take a peek at the lovely images of sunflowers hanging in the windows of her village here.

Let us step into a new week ahead, not defeated by the ugliness in our world, but by bringing our own light into everything we do. I invite you to look folks in the eye and smile. The crinkle in your eyes behind your mask will do the world some good. I promise.

xo

staying afloat

Perhaps you have already read that the sunflower is the national flower of Ukraine. According to The Washington Post, sunflowers have become a global symbol of resistance, unity and hope. You can read the article here.

This morning, I read British artist Hannah Nunn’s blog post about a fundraiser she is doing to support people who have been displaced as a result of the crisis. You can read about how Hannah was drawn into taking concrete action here. Her laser cut sunflowers are a beautiful offering in her shop, all procedes will help Choose Love and you can read about them here.

Even as the conflict escalates and seems more overwhelming, people around the world are finding ways to send support to folks caught in the insanity of a despot whose hubris knows no bounds.

I have no idea of what it feels like to be in such a place of conflict. Yet I feel anxious and heart broken and a bit useless. Once I honored those feelings, I began to look around for things to do, ways to help.

I offer two groups to support if you are able.

Batman and I have been loyal supporters of the American Friends Service Committee for years. Founded in 1917, the AFSC “promotes a world free of violence, inequality and oppression”. You can read about the work the AFSC does in the world here.

Chef José Andrés and his World Central Kitchen began serving hot, nourishing meals in Poland within a day of the initial attack on Ukraine and they are now set up at eight border crossings. Read more here.

I try to remember that each morning we wake up gives us an opportunity to make some small change in the world. I may not be helping in Ukraine, but I can help support those who are. And I can actually do what I can in this small corner of the world, volunteering with groups that resonate with my values.

Perhaps you have ideas of ways to take action during this disconcerting time. Please drop a link or thought in the comments, below. I’m guessing all of us would appreciate them.

And in the midst of the madness, there are still bits of joy to recognize and celebrate. Theodore Alan* arrived safely into our world this week. He was a bit early, and his mama and papa (our son, Stewart) navigated some challenging times in the past few months, but all is well now! Our first grandson, Theo joins Maggie and Flora out in the midwest, where cousins are adding up fast! Hannah and her Loren are expecting a baby girl this summer, so we will be trekking out that way more often, for sure.

Dearest ones, know that I am keeping thoughts of each of you close to my heart. These are not easy times to live in, but I will not give up to despair and gloom. If I can cheer you in any way by writing here, I remain grateful for your audience. Steady on.

xoxoxoxo

*Alan was my dad’s name, and I confess I got a bit teary when I heard the news of Theodore’s name.

vintage linen

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

february musings

Hello friends!

Just a quick bit of housekeeping…I pledge to reply to any comments made on a post within a day or two. I’ll write a reply just under the comment itself. I do appreciate when you reach out!

Last weekend we got 14” of fresh snow (on top of a few inches already on the ground). Yesterday we woke to howling wind and pelting rain and dripping eaves. By the time I drove down to town at 9, the sun was shining and our dirt road was getting muddy. Later in the afternoon it was snowing again. So goes a winter day in Vermont.

There is so much to love about the winter here.

As I drove along the ridge on my way to town on Saturday I was startled and delighted when a flock of snow buntings rose from the field and swooped overhead. It was the first time I had seen them this winter and they lift my spirits each time I spot them. I appreciate the resilience of these tiny birds as they make their way up and down their migratory routes.

Batman gears up and ventures out to do tree pruning this time of year. He cut back the heirloom lilacs this week. He hauled all the branches down to the burn pile and we look forward to a little bonfire before the safety of the snow cover melts into the meadow. It’s hard to imagine the scent of blooming lilacs drifting through the open windows right now, but those days will come.

corazón and wilma and a wine cork and crumpled brown paper in a box. such a cute pod.

The full moon is coming up on Wednesday and there’s a village a bit south of us hosting a snowshoe trek at night. Guided by moonlight, participants plan to trek across fields and forest. I may suggest to Batman that we take a foray out into our meadow.

The Vermont Department of Transportation asked school kids in Vermont for suggestions of names for their fleet of snow plows. Check out their clever answers here.

My friend Anne’s post a few weeks ago inspired me to check out some of her book recommendations. Our small, rural library did not have any of the books I was hoping for and so I used the interlibrary loan service. Less than a week after I made my requests, two books (from two different libraries) were waiting for me on a shelf outside the door. As our democracy teeters on the edge of who-knows-what, I am delighted that our public library system stands strong. At our library you can borrow snowshoes, museum passes, you can participate in Monday Night Knitting Group (which has gone virtual again) and buy donated potted plants in the springtime (a fundraiser sourced from local gardens).

Friends, how are you feeling about living so much of life online? It’s a love/dislike relationship for me! Due to Covid, dreadful road conditions and nasty wind chill factors, so many things remain online here in Vermont. Various committees I serve on do our work via Zoom and our Vermont Modern Quilt Guild meetings remain online. This morning Batman and I went to Italy (virtually) with some of our favorite farmers market vendors. Check out their offering here. I had put together a sewing project for four year old granddaughter Maggie and sent it to her in the mail. This afternoon we stitched a very simple foursquare patch (above). She has requested a pink pig “stuffy” project for next time. With yellow and brown straw. I am so on it!

Plants keep things festive around here…one of the many babies grown from a clipping from my grandmother’s Christmas cactus is blooming late, micro greens grow on the windowsill. Pots of forced daffodils, narcissus, hyacinths and amaryllis stand bright on table and countertops. THE VEGETABLE SEEDS HAVE ARRIVED, and are tucked away for late May planting. Finding that brown package in the mailbox out by the road is sure to put a grin on Batman’s face.

I have a bunch of sewing projects underway, but it will be a while before I can share some of them with you. Another collaborative quilt, which I’m very excited about is working its way through multiple steps in multiple households. In the meantime, I thought you might enjoy seeing some quilts, stitched by Grace Rother. Grace’s quilts tell stories too, and she makes them with repurposed and scrap fabrics. Grace also writes a blog that is so fun, just check out the menu on her website.

And one last thing (if you are indeed, still reading…) lest you think it’s all fluff around here, check out the interview Krista Tippett did with Trabian Shorters, a visionary who describes Asset Framing as a way to flip our mindset from one of deficit to one that helps us flourish.

I do so appreciate your popping by sewandsowlife. I hope you have found some sanctuary here as we roll on through these odd times.

xo

me

a giveaway winner, some quilts and an unexpected trip

About the giveaway…I had a few folks contact me via e-mail and had eight comments left on the blog post. I did a random drawing of names and Carolyn will find the drawstring pouch and balsam sachet in her mailbox soon. (I must confess, though, that after double checking my notes, I found that the sachet was actually dyed with avocado skins and pits, so it’s not really super local. Ooops.) Thanks to all of you who left sweet comments (I have responded to them in the previous post)…I will being doing more giveaways in the future, so you may have another chance…

A dinosaur quilt for Maggie.

I found this very cute dinosaur fabric panel in the fall and knew it needed to be sewn into something for Maggie. Like most kids her age, Dinos are a big source of fascination. I pulled all the other fabrics out of my cupboards and put together a very simple quilt. Now that Maggie is no longer in Brooklyn, her subway days have turned into travel in her family’s car, complete with car seat. I made this quilt to snug around her on chilly winter mornings.

The back of the quilt also came from my fabric stash, so no trips to the fabric store were required for this gift. I thought they were kind of wild and reminded me of prehistoric jungles.

This was a super quick and fun quilt to put together and it was such fun to see Maggie open it while she was visiting us here in Vermont in December. Making it was yet another way to put my love into something that will be with her in the days and months ahead.

This quilt had a long and winding journey on its way into being.

Much like our Hannah and her Lauren, G and J had to postpone their wedding and then eventually, celebrate their vows in a tiny family ceremony. The daughter of very dear friends of ours, G is part of our “family by choice”. My design ideas went through several permutations until inspiration hit. Before I left Instagram, I followed G’s feed, filled with gorgeous photos of the National Parks she and her fiancé had visited over the past few years.

I dug deep into my fabric scraps and pulled anything that reminded me of the woods, the beach, the desert, and of course a bit of homegrown, hand dyed indigo sky…

The natural color solid used for the “negative space” is Kona’s “parchment”, an homage to G and J’s yellow Labrador who I suspect might enjoy the quilt, too.

The fabric with the little rust colored berries was a gift from the bride’s mother years ago, and I was delighted to include a few bits of that, for sentimental reasons.

The birch fabric finds its way in so many of my pieces. It’s sort of an emblem of dreams come true for me. It really needed to find its way into this quilt!

One of the things I love most about quilts is that they can tell stories. This one documents some of the true intergenerational aspects of deep and reliable friendship. It hints at adventures had and at adventures ahead. It’s being used in a living room on the other side of the country, but our bit of earth is reflected in it as well of all of those beautiful National Parks. And this quilt was sewn with love and hope. The frosting on the cake? G and J’s baby girl is due this spring, on my birthday. How exquisite is that?

Looking east, from Green Harbor as the sun set behind us.

Looking south, Green Harbor, MA,

Duxbury Beach, MA early yesterday morning, looking for snowy owls. No owls spotted, but a bracing walk, for sure!

In a total spur of the moment rescue, I drove to MA and back in a day on Friday to fetch my Mumsie from the path of the blizzard. She stayed here with us for a few days and after we dropped her back off at her house, we went on down to the South Shore to stay overnight with my brother and sister-in-law. They live a block from the beach and their neighborhood was slammed by the blizzard. Power has been restored, their boiler repaired and their street is now passable. WHEW! Good walks, a fine dinner, and a fun movie were unexpected perks from our rescue dash. We love living here in Vermont, but…wow…we love to visit Doug and Ra at their place!

And now all five of our immediate family’s households ( in VT, MI, OH) are under a winter storm warning…

Hope you are safe and snug, friends. I love that you are all in far flung places, but feel so close via this wacky thing called the internet. xo

links and a giveaway

Can you see the little fingerprints left on the window by Flora and Maggie when they were visiting over the holidays? I cannot bear to wash the evidence of their curiosity from the window. They watched the snowfall and birds from their perch here in the living room.

FRIENDS! The news headlines are going berserk! Covid! The stock market! Military aggressions! LET’S JUST TAKE A PAUSE FROM ALL OF IT! I invite you to carve out a bit of time to wander around some of the internet with me, to take a few moments away from the fray…

  1. Did you hear the interview Terry Gross of Fresh Air did with Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson? He made his directorial debut with the documentary Summer of Soul. You can listen to the interview here. Batman and I listened while driving to Detroit for Hannah and Loren’s wedding in September. We made a mental note to watch it.

  2. We finally watched the documentary last week, as one way to mark Martin Luther King Jr Day. The documentary was put together using recently discovered film shot during the summer of 1969 (the same summer that Woodstock happened.) I was 13 at the time and I was taken back to those days when my awareness of the wider world was exploding. The assassination of MLK Jr had happened just a year before the festival and it was still a fresh wound. But in its aftermath, the energy, pride and solidarity caught on film was contagious. This documentary is a masterwork and I cannot recommend it highly enough…but perhaps you are way ahead of me and have already viewed it. :-)

  3. We recently ordered some hemp-fiber growing mats and some terra cotta seed spouters from Lee Valley Tools. I have no affiliation with the company, I’ve just been delighted with these products. Best of all, their tag line is “Time to hibermake”. HIBERMAKE! I love that made up word (maybe because we have almost daily snow and are in the deep freeze here in Vermont…-15 anyone?)

Micro greens growing on the windowsill, as we avoid going to the store as much as possible…

Each week we bring new pots of bulbs up from the root cellar...this week it’s hyacinths and daffodils, set onto the kitchen island and living room windowsill.

4. Another fun place to explore is the blog of artist Hannah Nunn in the UK. She recently wrote about mosses and I found myself wanting to wander in the woods with her near Hebden Bridge, a place I long to visit. Hannah had recently read Gathering Moss, by Robin Wall Kimmerer (who also wrote the lovely Braiding Sweetgrass.)

5. I also stumbled upon an absolutely magical artist who photographs birds and animals in the wild, but with props to delight! David M Bird’s website is enchanting, especially the videos that document how he does his work.

This saucy red squirrel tunneled from the bird feeder over to the window where Corazón and Wilma sit to watch the action. It sits and chitter chats at the cats who chitter right back and swish their tails in excitement. The dear birds and tiny rodents are ferociously hungry as they try to retain calories in this deep freeze!

Besides all of these fun distractions, I have had my nose tucked into Jen Hewett’s book This Long Thread, Women of Color on Craft, Community, and Connection. I was able to participate in Jen’s virtual book tour event via Gather Here, and am glad to have a copy in my hands (ordered from Gather Here).

A drawstring bag and balsam sachet, made here in Vermont at our bit of earth. The casing for the drawstring bag was dyed with birch bark, as was the balsam sachet.

The wee button on the sachet was fashioned from birchbark fallen from a tree out in the woods.

Back in January 2009 I launched my blog sewandsowlife on the Blogger platform. Just over a year ago I migrated over here to Squarespace. I have rambled for years about gardening, sewing, cooking, moving to Vermont and everything in between. I also found some fun blogs to follow myself, and I’ve “met” some fine friends. As Instagram gained popularity, the blog world diminished. My friend Anne and I are both hoping for a comeback for blogs.

I’m so grateful to have you as followers, dearest ones. Your patience with my musings and kind comments are heartwarming. I’d love to mark the anniversary of my blog with a giveaway. If you would like to have a chance at finding the drawstring bag and balsam sachet in your mailbox, please leave a comment below or send me an email at <sewandsowlife@gmail.com>. I regret that due to current circumstances in the world (and the inclusion of balsam needles), I can only offer to send a package to the contiguous United States.

Let me know if you would like a chance at winning the giveaway by next next Tuesday, at noon EST, February 1st. I’ll post sometime on Wednesday, letting you now who the winner is. I’ll tell you about those quilts I mentioned a while back, too.

Be strong, friends, and do what you can each day to spread hope and light.

xo

stepping across the threshold

burning a bayberry candle to mark the transition into the new year..

Thank you science. Double vaccinated, boosted and tested, we had a gathering here on the hill, with most of our crew hunkered in. Having missed so much in 2020 and 2021, we were grateful for this bubble in time.

A sleigh ride with Bob and Leif… (photo by Lindsey)

And now we are “pulling up the drawbridge” again, as Lindsey wrote a few days ago, for the foreseeable future. It’s a strange and challenging time we are navigating, friends.

Know that I am with you in spirit as we take a deep collective breath and step into 2022.

xo

KLR