enmeshed in the magic

yesterday, late afternoon, here at our “bit of earth”

rose hips gathered from the yard, with plenty left for the birds

a wreath for the breezeway’s sliding door. see “how to” here.

Oh me, oh my. This is a grand time to be in Vermont. Neighborhood cider pressings, bustling farmer’s markets, lovely days and chilly nights, the glowing Hunter moon, with hippie pumpkin bread baking in the oven (using pumpkins from the gardens here on the hill)…the Vermont Sheep and Wool Festival (last weekend, where I did not buy anything, but soaked in the inspiration), meditating in the dark as the sun comes up behind the ridge…so much to gobble up. And the colors…the exquisite colors give me a lump in my throat and make my eyes teary. There is something at work in this world that is so much bigger than any of us, dear friends. I’m not sure what it is, but I am humbled by it.

And because this is when I feel most alive and fully me, I’ve committed to a few new creative adventures. I’m a bit daunted and a lot excited about moving ahead. At the same time, I’m plugging away at my queue of existing projects. Pell mell. That’s how October feels each year. Like a kid who starts running downhill and is suddenly in the grip of gravity and can’t stop and squeals with delight. That’s me.

I do so wish you could be here, dearest ones. We could hold hands and run down our meadow together (or slide on a piece of cardboard, or just imagine the fun from a comfy chair.) Then we could come inside, drink some neighborhood pressed cider and chat about our hopes and dreams for our lives and for this wild world we’re living in. I would love that. xo

P.S. I did, just now, reply to your thoughtful comments on my last post. :-)

Pillows, books and a shift in the seasons

One day, way back in June, I spent the day in my studio, sewing new pillow covers for our sofa.

left: Katazone paste resist with indigo, created by a textile artist in Vermont. right: patchwork pillow made with my own homegrown indigo, dyed in my kitchen, shibori resist technique. center: dot pillow from IKEA.

large pillow, Ikat woven cotton. smaller pillow: raw silk

lumbar pillow: fabric from Skinny laMinx, printed in South Africa.

the back of the same pillow, sewn with the front placket of a worn out skirt.

Sometimes, my attention is caught by beautiful fabric. Sometimes I buy a bit, for “someday”. It’s so special that I tuck it away and avoid cutting into it. Well, friends, I’m realizing that “someday” is bumping up against the never ending force of time and I have decided that “now” is when to use these special bits.

The joy comes in pulling them out of the cupboard and remembering way back to when I purchased them. Each bit of fabric has a story. The IKAT I found on a trip to Northern California when Batman was attending a conference and we splurged on a companion ticket, leaving our four young kids in the care of my generous mother-in-law. I still remember the mustard fields, brilliant yellow blooms that carpeted the byways. The funky little fabric shop smelled of incense and had fabrics from around the world. Folkwear patterns sat atop the counter and I was energized by gorgeous sample dresses that helped me envision what was possible.

I found the Katazone fabric while wandering the back roads in Vermont, guided by an “Open Studios” map one Memorial Day weekend before we moved here. I had not yet begun my journey on natural dyeing, but I had caught the bug, and loved chatting with the artist. I cannot for the life of me remember her name, and I can’t seem to find her on the internet. Alas.

The Skinny laMinx fabric grabbed my attention while shopping at the now defunct Nido, which had been in an upstairs loft in Burlington. I still miss that beautifully curated shop, filled with fabric and yarns to make you drool. The simple graphic nature of this fabric makes me happy.

The raw silk was something I walked past several times while attending an annual quilt show in Katonah, NY. Not far from where we lived during out Connecticut days, the show was as well known for its vendors as it was for the stunning quilts that hung in the gymnasium. I finally decided that rather than regret that I had “resisted” buying the silk, I went back and bought a bit of it.

Certainly, these fabrics were splurges. Then they languished. But now, when I see them tossed on the couch these pillows make me smile. And I am so glad that these pillows and I sit squarely in the midst of “now”.

Here are a few shots of our early mornings on the hill. The sun actually comes up from the ridge across the road from us, in the east. As it comes up over the ridge, the light splatters itself across these hills to the west of us. This time of year, the sunrise plays with the growing colors of the foliage season and it becomes quite intoxicating.

And books! I promised you books!

Have you read The Dictionary of Lost Words? Oh, it is a gem. A sucker for historical fiction, I devoured it in just a few days.

And This Is How It Always Is was also a good read. There was a plot turn or two that seemed a tad contrived to me, but overall, this is really a wonderful, insightful book.

The Sweetness of Water, set in the time right after the American Civil War, inspired a lively discussion in my book club. I’m still letting bits of it percolate with me.

I borrowed The Natural Dyer via our library’s inter-library-loan program and it is a gem! I already own a few books about natural dyeing, but I love this one enough that I ordered my own copy from The Book Depository. Abigail’s aesthetic and process are very simple and inspirational…a lovely resource for beginners and seasoned dyers as well.

I was trying to find a local copy of Tracy Chevalier’s A Single Thread, to no avail, but I did find a used copy of her Remarkable Creatures at Bear Pond Books in Montpelier. (I love to shop there, the wooden floor boards squeak and their “staff picks” are very compelling.) I’m about halfway through and look forward to crawling into bed with it again tonight.

WHAT ARE YOU READING, dearest ones? Please drop a note in the comments below to share your ideas.

I’m so sad to see September come to a close. We had frost on the lawn here this morning when we woke up…But…OCTOBER STARTS TOMORROW! It’s my very favorite month of the year and I will be here at sew and sow life with pictures of Vermont aflame, in all her glory. You may find it hard to resist her call to center your spirit, and celebrate her magic. xo

September's abundance

sunflowers at the fair.

One of Vermont’s “top 10 time-honored events” celebrated its 150th anniversary this past weekend. Batman and I were so happy to get back to the Tunbridge World’s Fair after two years away due to the pandemic. We love wandering the barns, filled with 4-H families, camping out with their beloved animals. We watched the little kids drive their teams of working cattle, we saw the sweet dairy calves snugged up in their stalls, waiting to walk into the judging ring. There were crowd favorites, to be sure, kids sprung from multi-generational families of farmers on the back roads of this rural state. And there’s the midway, filled with once-a-year carnival rides, plenty of junk food and games of chance. There’s also a section of the fairgrounds dedicated to keeping Vermont’s history alive with demonstrations of steam-run log splitters and corn huskers. There’s a barn full of antique horse-drawn sleighs and carriages. Then there’s the garden produce and baked goods that flash their prize ribbons, and the quilt and photography exhibits. School kids can submit gourd people, stuck together with toothpicks, and they are sure to make us smile. And the best part of the day? A maple creemee from the maple house over near the horse ring.

We finally had some prolonged rain in the forecast and so we did some harvesting. Onions, carrots and beets, (above), nearly ready for the root cellar. Batman also gathered a bucket of our Honey Crisp apples that have been a long time coming. The tree had a rough start, but is thriving now. The first crunch into these beauties says “autumn” to me. Our Liberty apples did not do so well this year. And the apples from our heirloom trees, that came with the property, will be pressed into cider in a few weeks at a neighborhood party.

I cut the sunflowers and put them in a tall vase out on the porch by the front door. The jays and squirrels were beginning to make them flop over. Once their beauty on the porch has faded, I’ll let those critters have a feast on the seeds.

The purple asters are blooming and the ferns are turning brown and gold and nodding to the ground. The wildflowers in the meadow are standing bravely til the first frost, which is due in the next week or so. The tomatoes have slowed way down, but I have one more BLT in mind. :-)

I harvested my tansies (above) yesterday and filled a dye pot with their sunny color. Cotton fabric is still soaking. (I like to give the fabric about 24 hours before I pull it from the vat…it is so hard to be patient!)

Saturday morning found me gathering with the board of directors of an anti-poverty NFP board that I serve on. We sat in real life together for the first time since March 2020. I got teary-eyed when I walked into our meeting room and saw all of my kindred spirits. It was a very productive retreat and reminded me that there are so many good people, trying to better the world…here in Vermont, in New England, in this nation, in this world.

Have you read the story about Yvon Chouninard? Oh my goodness…talk about good guys…this will lift your spirits!

I hope you, dearest readers, have found some respite here at sew and sow life. I think I’ll be back soon with some book talk and pillows and inspiration. Until then…don’t forget to breathe deeply, in and out. Relax your shoulders, look up at the sky, and know that I hold thoughts of you close to my heart. xo

another acceptance!

Off-white linen blend fabric, homegrown indigo/hand dyed on linen, commercial fabric scraps, Sashiko thread, cotton quilt batting, unbleached muslin on back.

CLARA MARTIN CENTER ART AND POETRY SHOW 2022… “Stronger Together”

CALL TO ARTISTS/WRITERS

Karen Lowry Reed’s Artist’s Statement for “We Drew a Circle”

I first came upon Edwin Markham’s piece “Outwitted” as a young person. It has stayed with me all these years because Markham’s message is timeless.

He drew a circle that shut me out-

Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.

But love and I had the wit to win:

We drew a circle and took him in.”

As we are all navigating a more and more divided America, I have thought a lot about how we shut one another out and how we may find ways to pull back together. It seems an impossible task on some days, and an opportunity for creative thinking on other days.

Whenever I sit with fabric and a spark of inspiration I am filled with hope. Sewing this piece reminded me that we are indeed stronger together, if only we are willing to keep drawing wider and wider circles that pull more and more of us into love and compassion and generosity. 

Two recent submissions…two acceptances…risk taking going well so far. But I still get so nervous while I wait to hear!

I know these are two small town venues, where generosity of spirit is extended to applicants. And I think that’s charming and probably why I gave then a try. But still, I’m kinda chuffed. :-)

Have you tried anything outside of your comfort zone lately? If so, how did it feel? Or maybe you don’t have capacity for risk taking right now…sending hugs wherever you are in the grand scheme of life!

xo

two recent projects

“September Meadow”

details: birch bits, French knots, machine “matchstick” quilting.

I just submitted this piece (using my NEWLY dyed fabrics) for a call to artists here. I should be hearing back in a day or two about its fate. I am determined to keep sending my work out into the world to see what will happen. Part of my plan for my 66th year on this planet is risk taking, so here we are. :-)

September 10, 2021

The day after Hannah and Loren’s wedding I gathered up a bunch of flowers from bouquets and table arrangements. I brought them home to Vermont in jars of water tucked carefully into the cab of the pickup. Wilma and I trimmed them and put them in my flower press. I remembered to give the screws a twist now and then.

A few weeks ago, I took the press apart and made this arrangement and sent it to Loren and Hannah for their first anniversary.

I remember making pressed flower projects with my beloved Great Aunt Margretta when I was a kid. I’m still at it. Call me sentimental. :-)

As the sugar maples along the road begin to flash bits of red and orange, I can feel my creative energy rising and I see inspiration everywhere I go.

We can hardly keep up with the San Marzano tomatoes ripening in the hoop house. Batman is making the most fragrant pasta sauce with the tomatoes and garlic, onions and basil from the raised beds. The sun gold cherry tomatoes have found their way into this recipe , it’s simple and fabulous! (It has beans in it, Noel!!!)

We had special house guests this weekend and we crafted a dinner made nearly exclusively with Vermont ingredients. It was such fun to showcase our garden’s and our state’s bounty.

And did you see the harvest moon?!?! It was the most gorgeous orange as it rose over the ridge. I woke up in the middle of the night when the coyotes began to sing. I got up to look out the window and saw that a lovely fog had settled in the valley, looking like a lake between the ridges. The moon was reflected in our neighbor’s pond and I was a bit overcome by the beauty. These are the moments to hold on to, to come back to when we need a dose of calm. Exhale….

Sending love to each of you, dearest readers. Know that I am here, ready to share the next bit of inspiration with you soon. xo

Black Hopi Dye Sunflowers

Black Hopi Dye Sunflowers growing at our bit of earth in Central VT. September 2021.

Harvesting the flower heads, late October 2021.

Flower heads drying on the three season porch, November 2021.

Top: Vintage raw silk, dyed with indigo.

Middle: Cotton dyed with Hopi Black Dye Sunflowers.

Bottom: Cotton dyed with dried marigolds.

September 2022.

The rainbow of hand dyed fabrics grows…with colors from the plants here on the hill. Except…the marigolds grown in New Mexico by my cousin and friend Kristen. She and her partner grew and dried the blossoms and sent a bag full for me to play with. The flowers produced a darker, deeper gold than the marigolds I used from our place here in Vermont last year. These gorgeous variations are all part of the magic of different locations, soil conditions, water quality and other variables. We do what can as dyers and then we have to step aside and let Mother Nature stir the pot.

I’m scheming different ways to use these fabrics…let me know if you have ideas or suggestions in the comments below!

xo

vintage raw silk and fresh indigo...

persicaria tinctoria or Japanese Indigo, growing at our “bit of earth” in Central Vermont

A bundle of indigo, waiting to have the leaves stripped from the stems. Early this morning. It was 45 degrees! I wore woolen socks with my gardening clogs!

Here you can see the blue pigment where one of the leaves was bruised.

I could not resist stripping the leaves outdoors on the picnic table in the September sunshine. Piping hot Darjeeling in my thermos.

One pound of indigo leaves and fresh water blended together. Ready for one pound of fabric!

The pre-soaked raw silk, after three alternating dips in the dye pot and rests in the air…time for a soapy rinse. That color just blows my mind.

After rinsing and hanging to dry in the woodshed, the color has subdued, but is still delicious!

Due to supply chain issues, I was unable to get a fresh package of Spectralite, something I use when I dye with indigo in a heated bath. Today’s new-to-me method was a cinch and I love the results.

There is much to know about dyeing fabric. There are so many beautiful books on store shelves these days, and the internet has plenty of information too. But the more I learn, the more I realize I don’t know!

Protein fibers (wool, silk, etc.) and cellulose fibers (cotton, linen, hemp, etc.) require different preparations before dyeing…different scours, mordants, baths and rinses. There is so much to keep track of that most dyers keep notebooks filled with their choices. (You can see a peek at mine, here) I’ve been a bit reticent this summer to do a lot of dyeing, because sadly, it does require a good bit of rinsing with fresh water and I worry about the drought conditions we are in. Recently we have had a bit of rain (tho not really enough), so I went ahead with a few projects.

One of the joys of my life is watching the magic as dye stuffs we have grown in the ground here at our “bit of earth” turns plain white fabric into colorful testaments to Mother Nature.

May each of you find joy and hope amidst this long weekend as summer slips into autumn. Drop a note in the comments below…will you picnic? Will you hike? Will you read, bake, visit, volunteer…? Let us know! xo

meteorological autumn

Scavenging a fallen nest.

The view from here in the haze of summer.

Cosmos at the edge of the meadow.

GOODBYE SUMMER!

I survived you, but I have scars on my spirit from your intensity.

Hello September!

You are the harbinger of the loveliest season of the year!

This morning I woke up under a quilt (!)

I meditated with this.

I ate oats with blueberries.

And I spent the day over dye pots. Marigolds, Hopi black sunflower seeds, Indigo too.

I sharpened a pencil and sniffed the new point. It smelled like the first day of first grade. :-)

Joyous days are ahead… I am determined to craft them with my hope and renewed energy. Maybe you’ll come along?

We went to the joyous wedding of two remarkable young people this weekend. One of the cars in the parking lot had a bumper sticker that read “Hope is HIP”. That may be my new inspiration…

(Thanks to tqoe, Martha, Kim and Paula for your chatty comments on my last post. They made me smile. I’m sorry I did not give them the attention they deserved. I have been fried. I’ll send each of you some snail mail…Kim, email me your snail mail address? I think I have the others)

sneak peek Thursday

creating circles with a string and pencil…

#sewandsowlife (sewing supplies and garden beds)

wilma. my muse.

sashiko thread crosses and homegrown, hand dyed indigo on linen.

Meh. It’s my annual mid-August slump. Just get to autumn already, will ya Mother Nature?

In the meantime…I’ve been in the zone in my sewing studio. The submission date for this piece is tomorrow. I’m a girl who likes to skid right into a deadline. Here’s the call to artists. I had an inspiration as soon as I read the theme of the show, “stronger together”. I can’t wait to tell you about it!

What have you been up to this August, dearest readers? Drop a note in the comments so we can all feel like we’re sipping iced tea and chatting together…

finish it up friday

After blogging for 12 years, Amanda Jean signed off in January 2019. Amanda has left her blog, crazy mom quilts online as a resource for all of us who miss her creativity. Her posts were/are filled with ideas, tips and encouragement. Amanda hosted quilt-alongs, inspiring me to make this quilt (altho it took me a decade to finally get it onto our bed!) One of my favorite features on Amanda’s blog was Finish it up Friday, where she invited her readers to leave a link in the comments, showing something they had finished. (Many quilters have what we affectionately call “UFO’s” or “unfinished objects” and are happy to celebrate when they are completed!)

So, today I share with you my latest finish, an improv quilt stitched almost entirely from my scrap stash. I even used a spool of variegated thread that was languishing on the spool rack. The only things I bought new for the project were the terra cotta solid colored Kona cotton and the batting, which I found on sale. It’s a crib size quilt, which most likely will be tucked into the trunk of a DCFS worker, ready to comfort a child in a time of great need. Or it may be draped over a crib in a women’s shelter somewhere in Vermont. Sometimes it is good to remember that there are such wonderful people out in the world, doing tough work…people like the social workers, the teachers, the peacemakers… Marge Piercy’s poem To Be of Use often reminds me of the heavy lifters who put their heads down and push forward, again and again.

The heat and humidity here has finally broken and we’ve had a bit of rain. This was the view when I woke up, and the thermometer read 56 degrees. I got tears of gratitude in my eyes. I know a few of my readers are waiting for some relief too. I hope it comes soon. xo

Several of our nights have been disturbed by cat and mouse games, a sure sign that cooler days are ahead. Country homes, no matter how tightly sealed, have uninvited house guests now and then, finding their way into a cozy spot to spend the winter. Our trusty Corazón makes sure to keep things in check.

So friends, as some of the news in the world seems not quite so grim, I hope you have had a chance to exhale a bit and find some spaciousness in your days.

Hope you have a lovely weekend dearest readers, with some quiet time to read, or sew, or paint, or garden or do whatever brings you joy.

xo