Day 42 - Make A Wool Needle Case

Date: February 17th, 2010

A few days ago, I discovered the joy of quilting (and, of course, it helps my rep as a mad player).  I spent most of the day with my gramma learning the basics and making my first ever quilt.  It is the size of a place-mat or small table-mat.  It was so much fun and it turned out so well (for a first timer) that I decided I wanted to make another quilt with my gramma.  So, on Wednesday, we spent the whole day over in her basement (AKA: the quilting palace) piecing a significantly larger quilt.  It won't be huge, but it will be big enough to curl up with on a couch.  I'm very excited about it.

As the day wore on, we started talking about sewing and detail work.  She showed me some things that she had created.  They looked store bought.  That isn't to say that they looked boring or anything - just the opposite.  The quality was good enough that it looked like they could be sold in a major chain.  She has patterns for creating pin cushions and other small sewing accessories, using sewing.  Its trippy.

We started talking a bit more and I expressed an interest in making on of those things as my thing of the day.  I was going to go to a Wednesday Latin Mass - but I have all of Lent to do that.  And I will.  I was enjoying my time with my gramma enough that I decided I'd rather stay the extra few hours.  Besides.  I don't speak Latin.

Anyway, we settled on making a wool needle case.  They are made by sewing together a few thick sheets of felt so that they open on one end, but not on the other.  Then you can tuck the needles inside and put them through the inner layer of fabric and viola - consider your needles cased.

 

The goal.

That picture is the one my gramma made  As you can see, it is a pansy.  It is a beautiful flower.  It is sealed along the dark purple edge, but the petals at the top open so there's a place to put your needles.  It looked simple enough.  I embroider a little (have for years), so I knew I was dealing with a basic set of stitches around the edging and holding the pieces together.  Remembering what the stitches are called is for chumps though, and I'm no chump.  

We started by cutting the pieces out in the shape of the petals.  The pattern she had included papers that were the right size and shape for everything to fit together.  The cutting part was easy.  I totally rocked the cutting part.  As for the initial sewing part, I knocked that right out of the park as well.  See the purple thread inside the yellow part of the flower?  That had to be stitched.  It doesn't just come like that, you naive fool!

 

See that?  All me.

I liked how that part came out and I am, apparently, pretty good for a new quilter.  I mentioned quilting for a reason.  I mentioned it because the day of piecing quilt blocks really well, followed by the above pictured triumph, led to me getting cocky.  In fact, I took that picture because I knew I'd be bragging about it.  That's why its there.  Look at it and bask in my ego.  Getting cocky is never a good thing.  At that moment in time, in that place, I just... knew... my wool needle case was going to be perfect and beautiful.  It would be flawless and magnificent.  People would come from miles around to see it... like toast that looks like it has a famous person's face in it.

 

Pictured: Humility

Now, if you're like my gramma, you looked at that and said to yourself "oh, that's not too bad.  It looks ok".  In fact, if you look at the top of the picture, you'll see her finger pointing to the nice stitches in the yellow felt.  She too was hearkening back to a simpler time... when I could truly believe I was good at working with wool and felt... when I could believe I was an unnatural prodigy.  Here's the thing.  My gramma loves me a lot.  She watched me grow up.  She was there when I went through my "salt out of the shaker" phase.  She was there when I went through my "argue with school teachers cause it seemed like a good idea at the time" phase.  She was there when I went through my "convince airline stewardesses that I could drink on planes because there's no federally mandated drinking age and the plane was crossing state lines" phase.  And now she's here for my "do a new thing every day" project.  Why would anyone stick with a salt-eating, teacher-arguing, underage-plane-drinking smart alec?  Because she loves me.

So.  Unless you love me... cut the crap about that being a good pansy.  Its a beautiful disaster.  The reason I'm still so utterly satisfied with how Wednesday went is that I had an important realization.  I made a choice to put my family first - above my project.  I chose to skip the thing I was going to do for the sake of spending more time with my family... but in doing so, I didn't fail.  I still did something I've never done before.  I've never worked with wool.  I've never tried to make a pattern piece like that from scratch.  Those are two things that are instantly new in my life and I did them without having to stop doing what I wanted to do.

Why all the sudden poetry about the day?  Because its a lesson I'm finally starting to understand.  Making something a priority doesn't mean it takes over your life.  Making something a priority just means that its in your life with other things.  Once this year ends, I know I won't be able to keep up the pace I've been keeping so far.  However, I also know that I'll be able to keep my horizons more open than they were before because I've learned that I can have my life and keep my schedule and do what I want... and do something new each day.  It was a lovely realization and an unlovely pansy, all in one day.

Don't patronize me, flower.  We both know you're ugly.