This Just In: Bonnets are BACK!

Move over beanies and bucket hats. It's all about the bonnet now.



What a charming way to protect a precious little head from the elements.

Until last week I was slapping hand-me-down beanies on Susannah when we went outdoors. Then Christy of little betty asked me to try out her sweet, reversible little bonnet pattern.

What, get to try a new pattern?
Complete a sewing project?
Make something pretty and functional?
Take gratuitous shots of my daughter?

I was so happy to oblige.

Susuannah herself was slightly less obliging in the modelling department...

Amore enthusiastic model was found in my friend's delightful girl, Baby V, who wears the little bonnet for you in both its forms below:

I think Christy's PDF pattern for her little betty little bonnet is first class. It comes with three pattern sizes (0-6 months, 6-12 months and 1-2 years), each of which can be made from two fat quarters of fabric. As you can see, the 0-6 month size I made fits newborn Susannah (loosely) and also 9-month-old Baby V. It looks adorable on both, if I do say so myself!

Christy's step-by-step instructions are clear, concise and easy to follow. I find sewing small, curved things a bit tricky but Christy included helpful photos, tips and explanations which guided me through the finer points to produce a well-structured, well-finished little bonnet.

I'd like to add that I think the pattern is quite a bargain at $6 USD from Christy's little betty etsy store. 

Of course you could just cut out the work and buy one of her gorgeous bonnets already made up - but then you'd miss out on the fun of choosing the fabrics out.

Speaking of which, I'm off to look through my stash to find fabrics to make another bonnet for a 1-year-old, and perhaps another one for Susannah lined with flannel, and maybe a softer one using some reclaimed embroidery... yes, bonnet-mania has struck!

The perfect Friday night in

3 children quiet in their beds (for now)
a tired but happy husband home from his long day
West Wing season 4
warm apple and rhubarb crumble
cold ice cream
and
some satisfying hand-sewing
(one pentagon patchwork ball completed, another on the way)

I just had to take a break in between episodes
to take a photo, remember a lovely moment
and make some tea.

My creative space... circling.

It has begun. The quilting of the ugly hexes.

I've opted for hand quilting, and decided on a simple design of intersecting circles. 

Simple in theory, anyway. I'm finding it slow going, but not really in that pleasant, lulling, meditative way I had hoped. It's taking a while to get a hang of lots of things: marking out my design; burying knots; holding an unwieldy quilt on my lap; working the needle through those layers.

And then there is the stitching itself. I started out quilting with thin cotton quilting thread and trying to do small, even stitches. After realising that I wasn't catching the backing with stitches smaller than, oh, about a metre, I decided to embrace the large stitch and go for more of a sashiko look. This looks much better to my eye, and doing a better job of actually quilting the layers together. 

But boy, am I finding it hard work. Physically hard. There is a large amount of friction going on. There must be something weird going on with my particular concoction of fabrics, batting (can't remember what sort) and sashiko thread. The three circles I've completed in sashiko-style took around half an hour each! 

Thoughts? Suggestions? Is this just part-and-parcel of doing something new?

Anyway, with all the effort being expended, I've decided I need to keep the energy levels up. This morning I made a rather large batch of cinnamon scrolls, using brioche dough from my no-knead artisan bread book.

Heavenly. What do you think - do I get one for every sashiko circle-of-pain I complete?

More creative spaces to be seen at Kirsty's place.

Hexagon dysphoria

There is a fair amount of hexagon goodness being flashed about the interwebs at present.

You may have seen Christina's lovely grandmother's flower garden in progress, with its gorgeous subtle hues, or Jo's bright flowers which pop against their white background, or Katy's fabulous retro-looking version.

Now I'm hexing along too, but in a different way. I'm working on a 2" hexagon charm quilt, in which every hexagon is from a completely different fabric design. In doing so I've snipped a hexie from almost every fabric in my scrap bin and stash, and from some scraps others have given me.

And what a disparate bunch of fabrics they are! Some of them are fabulous, but alas, many scraps that I have in my possession (through thrifting, gifts or just plain bad purchasing choices) are butt-ugly, wouldn't-force-your-dog-to-wear-it kind of fabrics.

Then there's the weird combination of bright, modern prints and bland country hues that are making a horrible clash in my hexagon piles. The more hexies I make, the more nervous I get. Nervous about how this quilt is going to pan out. Nervous that all the scraps are actually going to look, well, DISGUSTING together. 

I've noticed over on the hexagon charm quilt piece-along Flickr group that many participants' scrap piles are really quite beautifully matched. They may all be different fabrics, but perhaps they are all of a similar vibe (or value, or tone, or whatever the actual quilting term is I'm probably supposed to be using). I guess this happens when you have a large stash, or a consistence sense of style, or patience for fabric-matching!

 I'm beginning to get cold feet, because I can't visualise this quilt at all. Part of my desire in this challenge was to work with the randomness of my scraps and somehow create a beautiful cohesion out of chaos. I didn't want to be prescriptive or selective about the fabrics I used. I didn't want to over-think it. I was hoping for the 'quirky but funky' kind of aesthetic. Instead, I think I'm producing something which will only ever turn up at a bad taste 80s party. 

I guess there is nothing for it but to press on, because I'm not going to know how it will look until I've basted all my hexagons and started piecing them together.

Now's your chance to make me feel better. Have you ever spent a lot of time making something really butt-ugly? Tell me, was it character-developing? Worth it for the learning curve? Or just a big, fat waste of creative energy?

It's scarf weather

... and very conveniently, I have just finished hand-stitching 26 yo-yos onto a piece of felted woolen jumper.

I decided the fate of my floral yo-yo collection on Sunday night after realising that my recent haircut has left a bit of a gap twixt collarbone and ears, a growingly noticeable gap given the recent chilly Melbourne winds.

Of course, I do have many lovely scarves already. But this scrap of felted jumper was looking so lonely, and was definitely asking for a bit of floral-pimping.

So today, I leave the house with a cosy neck.

Putting a hex on your pincushion

No, I'm not referring back to this brilliant act of crafty voodoo. I'm playing with some hexagons for Kate's mammoth pincushion swap.

I have so many ideas in my head for making a little pincushion... As usual I'm jumping in without a clear design, but after checking out the 'creative vibe' of my (to-remain-anonymous) swap partner, these last precious scraps of Aunty Cookie are speaking to me:

I've played with hexagon paper piecing before and hope to do a fair bit more, so I treated myself to a little product which might just cut out my least favourite part, the initial shape basting. 

Now I just need to think about size, shape, design, filling and so forth, and I'll be able to get making!

Everything other craft project I have on the go is turning out to be a bit of a slow burn, so my intention is to make this one a project of the more short-and-sweet variety.

So please, no hexing my pincushion, ok?

My creative space... portable therapy

My creative space today needs to be portable, therapeutic and able to accomodate a distracted mind.

Today, I will be sitting for a few hours in hospital while my wee Charlie boy undergoes a small procedure to open his blocked tear ducts. It's very unclomplicated and very painless - we've been through it before for William - but it does require a general anaesthetic. Now I'm the type of (relaxed? overly casual?!) mama who applauds or rolls her eyes when her boys take a tumble, who says 'pick yourself up sweetie' when they fall, and who made inappropriate jokes with the anaesthetist about finally getting some peace when we went through this last time. But oh, there will be something so heart-stopping about holding my baby while he breathes in the gas and watching that little body go limp and be wheeled away for his "big adventure". I know he'll be fine, but there will be an appropriate lump in my throat all the same.

I have a variety of hand-sewing projects on the go, which are both portable and therapeutic but require some measure of concentration and accuracy, which I know I won't possess. Thankfully, a recent addition to my works-in-progress list has been my floral scrap yo-yo project.

So today, I'm grateful for

my large Clover yo-yo maker

the stack of Japanese craft books that arrived in yesterday's mail, just in time

my basket of wonderful floral scraps

 and craft that helps the time go by.

More spaces at Kirsty's house...