mini-quilts

Placemats are much easier to machine quilt than, well, quilts. The smaller the surface area, the more manageable the quilting project.

So too, I'm making my sister a set of quilted placemats for the holidays (originally intended for our Thanksgiving family feast, I don't think I'm going to make the deadline). Here's the first prototype:

I'm using a variation on the Denyse Schmidt pattern, Flock of Triangles, as well as some leftover fabrics from that same quilt.

I'm lovin' mitered corners at the moment. So neat, and so easy to make!

Fingers crossed for meeting the new Christmas deadline...

we belong to each other

"If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other." --Mother Teresa

quilted color wheel

Presenting my very first entirely handmade quilt! For the one and only, Isaac Samuel, born July 4, 2009.

Near:

Far:


The hexagons were individually hand-pieced using the English paper piecing method, and then the whole sucker was hand-quilted and bound with love.

Mitered corners of great pride:

Crinkled quilted goodness:


Intended as a wall hanging, it's Izzy's first color wheel. May he be blessed with the same bountiful artistic imagination as his parents!

martha: more than crafts

Here's a fabulous article about pit bulls from Martha Stewart's website. Sing it, sister!

And if you're looking for a good cry (tinged with beaucoup hope and joy), follow up on the rescue efforts surrounding Mike Vick's dogs with this photo essay (chapter 4 especially gives me the sniffles).

To round out the post, here I am with one of my favorite pits, Dutch, from the local shelter where I volunteer:

He is a mushy mound of love, and I treasure every moment we spend together.

poppy pins

In honor of Veterans Day today, my coworker asked me to make him a poppy for his lapel. So, I went a little overboard and made four! All made of felt. I gave three to him, and kept one for myself. The first one eluded the camera, but here are the remaining.



And, in situ:


We both seredipitously wore black today. I think it makes a spiffy backdrop for a bright red poppy, no?

honeycombs

Just a taste...

if you live in new york, you're jewish

My Aunt Anna (pronounced "Antana" -- all one word) had a cat named Bubbeleh. She was my paternal grandmother's sister. They were Italian-American, born and raised in upper Manhattan, what's now Spanish Harlem. They also loved rugelach, which, growing up, I just assumed was an Italian pastry since it was always served at family gatherings.

These things now make sense to me after stumbling on Lenny Bruce's ruminations on things Jewish and goyish (circa mid-century):

Dig: I'm Jewish. Count Basie's Jewish. Ray Charles is Jewish. Eddie Cantor's goyish. B'nai B'rith is goyish; Hadassah, Jewish.

If you live in New York or any other big city, you are Jewish. It doesn't even matter if you're Catholic; if you live in New York, you're Jewish. If you live in Butte, Montana, you're going to be goyish even if you're Jewish.

Kool-Aid is goyish. Evaporated milk is goyish even if the Jews invented it. Chocolate is Jewish and fudge is goyish. Fruit salad is Jewish. Lime Jell-O is goyish. Lime soda is very goyish.

All Drake's Cakes are goyish. Pumpernickel is Jewish and, as you know, white bread is very goyish. Instant potatoes, goyish. Black cherry soda's very Jewish, macaroons are very Jewish.

Negroes are all Jews, Italians are all Jews. Irishmen who have rejected their religion are Jews. Mouths are very Jewish. And bosoms. Baton-twirling is very goyish.

Underwear is definitely goyish. Balls are goyish. Titties are Jewish.

Celebrate is a goyish word. Observe is a Jewish word. Mr. and Mrs. Walsh are celebrating Christmas with Major Thomas Moreland, USAF (ret.), while Mr. and Mrs. Bromberg observed Hanukkah with Goldie and Arthur Schindler from Kiamesha, New York.

reading backwards

I've wanted to read Fanon's Black Skin, White Masks for some time now. I finally got the book from the library, and immediately flipped to the last page.  It reads:  

My final prayer:
O my body, make of me always a man who questions!

I sense greatness in store...

tmi

This reminds me of the time a guy turned me down for a date because he had to neuter his feral cat. I wish I were kidding.

My life imitates Jim Davis's art. Poo.

because we are female

If you haven't read this op-ed yet, please do. I think it's important that it's written by a man; not because the male voice is more objective, authoritative, or is more likely to be heard (by both men and women alike), but because it reaffirms for me, personally, that some men actually do "get it."