About the Marathon

I want to talk about what happened in Boston a few days ago but I need to revisit some history first.

About 28 years ago I was a 2nd time-around college student living in Wellesley, Massachusetts. The whole Boston Marathon thing was a pretty foreign concept to me and frankly, I didn't get what the fuss was all about.

Wellesley is the halfway point in the Marathon so it's a pretty big deal. I didn't know this when I took my spot along the road to see what the fuss was all about. I remember thinking, "Who were all these people holding out cups of water and orange slices (the real kind, not the sugar kind) to complete strangers running past and why were they doing it? It took me about a half an hour to "get it." The faces on the runners said it all. You could see the months and years of training, the exhaustion, the spirit, their emotions - all laid out in front of God and everybody. It was moving and emotional and pretty soon I was cheering them on, clapping and yelling and jumping up and down with the rest of the spectators. It was the most remarkable display of human athleticism and sheer guts I had ever witnessed. In the years following I was one of those people cutting up oranges and holding out little cups of water, thinking in some way I was "helping" these remarkable people. I wanted to help them, I wanted to encourage them, and selfishly wanted to be a part of such a magnificent spectacle. The Boston Marathon is something you don't know you need to experience but believe me, you do.

Patriot's day is holiday here in Massachusetts. It commemorates the first shots fired in the Revolutionary War, the running of the Boston Marathon (which started in 1897) and since 1959 the home opener of the Boston Red Sox. It is a great day to be "in the city" and thousands of people do just that. The Sox game is timed so that just when the game is done you can meander over to the finish line of the Marathon and soak up some of the color and excitement of the race. It’s a really good day.

So it was with no small amount of horror I watched Monday's events unfold. Living just 40ish miles north of Boston I have stood in those spots along the last few yards of the race. I knew those shops and hotels and the atmosphere of jubilation experienced by hundreds of spectators and runners as they crossed the finish line. The bombing was surreal and numbing, but mostly surreal. I walked around the house thinking it was a gas line that blew or a power breaker that fried, I could not accept the concept of a deliberate bombing.  The reality took me a while to process. Since then I’ve had a knot in my stomach reminiscent of 9/11 when all flights were grounded but in bed at night we could hear the patrol jets flying overhead. Chilling.

While we don’t know who did this or their delusional reasons for doing so, I feel contempt for their reasoning and more importantly,  pity for their wretched and wasted lives. The irreparable damage evident in the grieving families, the many amputees, dismembered, and otherwise injured victims is cause for righteous anger, but  I want these murderers to know nothing will be ever be accomplished as a result of their actions.  Other than tighter security, a mere nuisance really, nothing will be moved or changed or recruited for their cause.

At next year's Boston Marathon we will still get choked up when we see runners met by a volunteer with one of those space blankets and walked over to have their medal draped around their neck. We will continue to marvel at the medical tents full of doctors and nurses volunteering their time and skills to tend to the blistered feet of the exhausted runners. We will always be filled with the triumph of the human spirit and rejoice for all of us who know acts like this will never extinguish basic human good. We will live our lives stronger, wiser.  Our lives will continue to be rich and full.  The lives of those behind this act, by their own hand, are no longer worth our time or attention  - other than to see justice served. 

Just Keep Snowing...Just Keep Snowing

We are just starting out on the most recent "snowpocalypse" to be forecast with the typical accompanying hysteria and panic shopping.  This one is different, however, because the Weather Channel saw fit to give it a name - NEMO.  This makes it easier to track on Twitter & other social media - I get that - but NEMO?  Seriously?

I'm sitting here writing this fresh out of the shower and with wet hair. After listening to

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sustained winds HOWL for the past hour I thought it would be prudent to scrub down, shampoo and dry my hair while we still had power.  I'm not one for panic shopping (bread, milk and eggs are de rigueur out here) because we keep a pretty well stocked pantry and I've never had a craving for French toast during a blizzard.  If it weren't for the nagging fear of losing power I'd be happy as a lark.  I love a good blizzard as long as I'm safe, warm and have access to charging devices like my iPad.

Not sure how this storm will shake out but all signs point to "very bad" and I worry about people who are not safe or warm. Let's all worry about them instead of preempting TV shows to announce another inch of snow has fallen and that everything closed is still closed.

Getting "IT"

It's never a good sign when I'm playing around with the look of my blog. It is an indicator of  one of two things: brain freeze ( I got nuthin')  or time-out (when I'm stressed, heat stressed, anxiety stressed, etc. and anything I put on the internet would be of the shock and awe variety, and not the "good" shock and awe, either. ) So there you go.  I'm playing with the look of my blog.  (Okay, I'm in time-out.)

In the meantime I have an amazing labor of love to occupy my hands.  A very good friend has one of the wall hangings made by my mother. We used to sell them in our store here in Gloucester and then mail a check back to her where she would cash it in and buy more quilting fabric.  (Mom kicked ass that way.)     Linn  has had this beauty hanging in her home for many years and recently asked me to take it home and give it a wash - she was nervous about doing it herself.  Okey dokey.  Washed. Line dried in the approaching scorching heat.  When I took it down I noticed that the sleeve on the back of the hanging had some places where the threads had just let go.  Age happens.  I found a spool of black thread and a sharp needle and I'm redoing the entire sleeve.  It is a miracle that I'm able to do it without clutching it to my chest, crying, and refusing to let it go.  (Eleven years later I think I'm finally making progress with my  grief.)  I'm actually enjoying the process, loving the chance to work on something my mom made, and grateful for the fact that Linn GETS IT.

There are not a lot of people out there who "get it" when it comes to quilts or, for that matter, anything hand crafted.  Paintings in galleries are found "worthy" but quilts, knit socks, hats or scarves are just KRAFTY with a K and not "worthy" of being looked at as serious creative expressions that require time and talent.  It has been an uphill battle for years.  To show my serious intent I was going to start a quilt guild here in Gloucester and call it "Quilt Bitches" and we'd all get Harley-Davidson tattoos (but the motorcycle would have a quilted seat.)  Cool, right? 'Cept I'd never get a tattoo.

A quilter's quest for street cred is apparently a life-long venture.  This is made more difficult by The Learning Channel's newest program, Craft Wars, hosted by..... TORI SPELLING.  Seriously, TLC?  I personally believe the only time she's had a hot glue gun in her hand was when she was replacing some hair extensions that had fallen out. A Twitter peep of mine remarked that  while she did watch the debut show,  she found "Tori's  clown-like makeup distracting."  TLC needs to learn (oohh, how ironic...) that credibility is an important part of attracting an intelligent and respectful audience who - when given intelligent content from creditable sources - have a way of going out and spending money with the show's sponsors to recreate those ideas in their own home.  It's a concept.

Time to get back to sewing the sleeve on this wall hanging.  Linn was skittish about  washing it herself because she wanted to make sure it was done carefully and properly because she loves this thing as much as I do.  She respects the time, effort, labor and creativity that went in to producing it. She gets it.

To Tree or Not to Tree

Along with the  Feast of the Epiphany comes the time to take down the Christmas decorations, dispose of the tree, and ....wait.

We didn't have a tree.

To be honest we haven't decorated a tree in 10 years. I can remember exactly how long because Mom died mid-November, 2001 and that Christmas kind of came....and went.  I've always loved having a Christmas tree - a REAL tree - as the centerpiece of the house during the season. I have lots of vintage ornaments from the 40's and 50's that are either from Joe's childhood or those I've collected and found.  LOVE them. So why the 10 year drought on Christmas trees?

I have thought about it at great length and cannot come up with a reasonable answer.  We are both tied up at the store most nights through December so  it seems silly to come home exhausted at 9PM, plug in the tree, be awake for another half hour and then unplug the tree, crawl upstairs and fall into bed. This year I wasn't working 2 jobs and was actually home to enjoy the tree in broad daylight....but I still didn't do it.

I'm a little honked about that because thee best time of the year is the week between Christmas and New Year's.  There is a stillness that settles over everything. Joe is home by 5:15PM (heavens!) and we can have meals that are 1) hot and 2) at a normal hour. We settle in with whatever we are reading, watch a movie - just like the normal people do.  It's the best. It's also the time we used to just soak up the tree and the lights and gently mellow in to the whole holiday atmosphere.

That's it.  I think the reason I'm feeling such post-holiday "meh" is because I didn't have that week of peace and simplicity and have not had it in 10 years.  I'm ready to have it back. Earlier today I even thought about buying a tree and setting it up and dragging the ornament box upstairs from the basement. Hell, I'd do it if there was a tree left to be bought. (I even eyeballed the ones out in back  to see if one of those could be surreptitiously cut down and dragged in to the house. What the hell, the election is over and the police won't go out there to stop the mobs of underage teenage drinkers with bonfires, are they gonna mess with a menopausal woman on a quest?) Hmmm. It's a thought.

PS - Don't tell me about fake trees, how "good" they look and how you can't tell the difference.  They don't and I can.  I want the real thing, the fragrance, the dropping needles, the whole ball of wax. This year, this December - I'm going to have it.

Black Friday Fail

About three weeks ago I "hit the slide" at work and gave my notice.  I've been juggling 4 different jobs for some time now and the mental and physical toll it has taken has proven to be WAY. TOO. MUCH.  When you find yourself standing at the front door of your house trying to get in using the remote door opener for your car - it's time to step back. When you collapse in tears because it isn't working and you can't figure out how you will get inside your house....well, desperate times call for desperate measures. (PS I've still got a part-time bookkeeping job and I work at my husband's store, so it's not like I'm really free......)

I'm cashing in the 10 hours a week I spent on the road for some sleep and rest. I've had a few days at home to begin the process of uncoiling my tightly wrapped head and body and I have the following observations to make:

1. I can still sleep for hours like a champ.


2. There is an unbelievable amount of CRAP on TV.


3. What the hell is going on with "Black Friday"?

I'll say right up front:  I think stores should be closed on Sundays. Period. With the extended hours and 24 hour openings of most drugstores, there really isn't any urgent reason for stores to be open on Sundays. Seriously. With that in mind, you won't be surprised to hear me bitch about store openings on Thanksgiving. When did it become a matter of life and death for stores to be open ON Thanksgiving Day?  Or at 4am?  or 6AM on Black Friday? Target I think you should be horsewhipped.  Do you hate your employees that much? I'm boycotting you for the foreseeable future.  WalMart? Oh hell,  I stopped shopping at your stores years ago so I'm not wasting my breath acknowledging your existence and continued scorched-earth policies. I really don't get the whole "thing" about getting up early to go shopping but then I'm not a recreational shopper.  For me it's a chore. Besides, I can't think of a single thing that would move my tail out of bed at 4 AM on a cold, dark November morning. Not. A. Single. Thing.

Ever hear that expression, "Money is like manure - you've got to spread it around"? I choose to spread my fertilizer around where I live. Area shops have the most wonderful (and unique) gifts. There is a new toy store that has the coolest things I've ever seen. They also have an art supply store! I'd go nuts in there, but I'd be buying for myself. There are a couple of great locally owned, non-chain coffee shops for when you need to rest and refuel. I'm betting your town has the same kind of deal going but too often people overlook the local shops or take the time to go and see what is there to choose from.   (Most of them haven't set foot in downtown for years and have no accurate clue about what is or isn't available.)  To these people I say, "STUPID. STUPID."  You must have time and money to burn.  Good for you.  I don't.

There is the argument that you'll save money if you go to malls, but I'm concerned with more than that -  I'm looking at the time and effort and the cost of gas it takes to get there.  Spend $10 more for a sweater in town or save $10 and go to the mall.... let's see,  it is a 46 mile round trip, about 3 hours (including driving and shopping), working my way through the crows, waiting in line or ..... for $10 more I'm home in 5 minutes?  Bonus - a local small business owner gets a little help?  For me - that's a no brainer. Win win.

There is a wonderful campaign called Small Business Saturday that encourages people to shop locally once a month.  The impact would be absolutely life changing for your town, your community and your friends.  Support local artists - buy handmade.  Do it often, not just once a month.  Change the world. Tell the big banks to suck it.  OCCUPY MAIN STREET.  Do the right thing, do it as often as you can. Everyone wins and for that we can all give thanks - hopefully from the  peace and quiet of our own snug homes.

My Quilted Consolation

A few days ago while guiding a cruise ship land tour I was in the process of crossing the street when I caught my front toe on the edge of a curb and went flying. As luck would have it my head missed an angled granite flower box by about a half an inch (I'd be getting coloring books for Christmas for the rest of my life if I had connected with that thing) but still managed to land on my right hand, arm and shoulder. One of the other guides came to my rescue (thank you LINN!) and  as luck would have it, one of the passengers in my group was a nurse.   We bagged it with ice & I finished the tour, mostly through gritted teeth. I went home, repacked the ice, took a fistful of ibuprofen, crawled into bed and slept until about 9PM when my husband woke me to eat something and repack the ice.  Since I had a physical scheduled the next day I was able to get x-rays to make sure nothing serious was broken or fractured.

I'm sporting a ghoulish bruise that extends from the palm of my right hand to almost halfway down my arm - eeewww.  I have it wrapped for support and camouflage. I can type for about an hour and that is IT.  Fingers, wrist, elbow just ACHE.  I carry around one of those little blue picnic bricks of ice like an accessory clutch purse, but covered by a zip lock bag so it doesn't sweat or drip. It's a look.

I can't dry my hair or put on makeup without looking clown-like.   When I forget the injury and try to pick up an empty  coffee cup or plate I drop it and thunk the edge on my granite counter tops. ( I now have a matched set of chipped Dansk Bistro dinner plates.) I can't begin to hold a needle or  sew, and frankly I'm starting to spiral up in my head about if or how much nerve damage is going to be part of the prize package that comes with me being such a klutz.



I am bitchy, crabby and sore, so you can imagine my happiness when my treasure arrived in the mail. Not long ago I decided to gift myself with one of  Dave Grunenwald's  QuiltBoxes.  He donated one to the Lowell Quilt Festival last year and when it arrived it stayed on my desk for an embarrassingly long time before I was forced to give it up to the committee.  These boxes are made by a talented, master craftsman who appreciates the art of quilting and surgically duplicates the perfect points and curves in a natural and beautiful medium. He is truly an artist.

I wanted to come up with something that would serve as a  bit of a commemorative piece. My mother, the quilter, has been gone ten years next month. My dear dad,  the hobby woodworker, has only been gone for six months.  I needed something that was a bit of both of them and a bit of me. Hence, the beautifully handcrafted wooden box with a quilt block design.  But which design? Dave makes it nearly impossible to choose - you want all of them.  After months of indecision I chose the mariner's compass block as an homage to my life by the sea in Gloucester, Massachusetts.  So all 3 of us are here in this one magnificent treasure. I'm not sure what I will put inside it yet - the bottom of the box is lined in black velvet so it must be something special. I had him add a little knob to it because my well-known OCD "issue" with hand lotion would gum up this little beauty in a NY minute.

I feel better just looking at it, touching the top, marveling at the silky smooth finish. It smells like wood and a bit of varnish, kind of like my dad's hardware store.  Within my limited means I try to support artists and craftspeople like Dave so that we continue to have beautiful, hand-made things in this world. Do the same - you will not be disappointed, I promise.

PS - It has taken me over 3 hours to put together this post. See how we suffer for our "art"? :)

PPSS -  I took the liberty of using Dave's photo as I can't begin to take a picture or wrestle the cords into the slots with this stupid damn hand all messed up.  Note to all you lurking grammar police and spell check Nazi's  -  I'm doing the best I can so take it elsewhere, m'kay?  A better use of your time would be to go to Dave's website and check these out. Seriously, you know you want one......

Festive Binding

I'm ensconced in Lowell for the 3-day Lowell Quilt Festival.  At the New England Quilt Museum it is a requirement that all staff is on hand for the duration.  I'm good with that - even though I am missing an EPIC McGill family reunion - but 2 nights in a hotel room by myself (woot!) is a real treat, and it is saving me 200 miles in commuting back and forth after very long, hard days.

Even more of a treat is the fact that miracle Cheryl (my new co-worker) was able to longarm my quilt in world record time.  I found out the couple for whom it is intended took out a marriage license and told us to stand by for an August wedding.  ACK!  AUGUST? I was planning on having the marvelous Mazon's Quilting do the job because Gayle has been holding my hand for over a year while I sorted this quilt out and survived 2 breakdowns of my Bernina.  Gayle answered about 10,000 of my questions and taught me so much about prepping my quilt, etc. that it broke my heart to let her know I had to get a "rush job" done here.  Gayle and Steve are very talented, successful longarm quilters and they have a long waiting list - as they well should.  Take a look at their site and give them some love for me.

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So back to the quilt.  Beach Glass - Brace Cove is finally finished. I put the binding on it before I left for the festival and I got two sides of it hand stitched down last night.  I hope to do the other two tonight and take home a finished quilt.  The picture here shows it spread out on my hotel bed - the hotel room light has a yellowish tinge in it, the fabrics are actually MUCH brighter and more vivid. I included a closeup of one of Cheryl's nautical embellishments. She made it look very ocean-y with waves, whirlpools, a seashell here and there - it is so much fun to look at all the wonderful things she did.  She has been a co-worker for only a few weeks when she overheard me shrieking that the wedding was coming up at any moment. Her offer to take it home and finish it for me was SO incredibly kind.  I have only had contact with 2 longarmers - Gayle and Cheryl - in my life, but I have learned they are the very kindest and best of people.  Time to mix up a vodka tonic (I know how to travel) and get the last two sides stitched. I shall sleep very well tonight knowing I'm ready for a pop-up wedding with a gift that will send the lovebirds over the moon.

Lowell Quilt Festival

Strap on your party livers, it's time for the 2011 Lowell Quilt Festival!  This year's show is scheduled for August 11th through the 13th at the Lowell Memorial Auditorium. The judging is done, the quilts are in the process of being transferred to the auditorium for show prep and presentation, and the winners......have not been announced yet!  It is a closely guarded secret, although I will confess to sneaking in to the museum's classroom (hey - I work there, I can) while they were photographing the winners.  (WOWZA.)  It is nice to get up close and personal with award-winning quilts. The "do not touch" rule strictly applies, but under the photographer's lights you can see every amazing detail.  I am always inspired to see what creative quilters can do given the time, fabric and sheer love of their art. I wanted to go home and shut myself up in my sewing room, crank up my Bernina and let the threads fly.

I'll do my best to post pictures from the show - we have some firm photography guidelines that apply to everyone (even staff, that's me) and they are RESPECTED. I can tell you we have a series of RED AND WHITE quilts from the New England Quilt Museum collection that will be on display, along with a number of "Lunch and Learn"  and "Tea at Three" programs that let you rest your feet and learn/see great presentations.   Admission to the festival is $12 for a bracelet that also gives you admission to the New England Quilt Museum.  One admission for 3 days - such a deal! There is a free shuttle bus that loops all around so you can visit partner sites and galleries that all have special exhibits and quilt-related shows.

This is the museum's annual and biggest fundraiser - be sure to check out the pile of antique and vintage quilts donated to the museum for this fundraiser - they will be tagged and on sale at the auditorium. (Note: do NOT get in front of me when these go on sale.)  I'll be at the New England Quilt Museum working the LQF Admissions desk most of the week - say hello when you come in!

Red White and WOW!

I wasn't lucky enough to go to NY and see the Infinite Variety show at the American Folk Art Museum, but I did download the free iPad app and enjoy playing around with all of the spectacular red and white quilts.  Since I also work for the New England Quilt Museum it was a natural next step for us to show some major love for the red and white quilts in our own collection.

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Just a few short weeks away is the Lowell Quilt Festival.  In addition to a city-wide celebration of quilts, IMAGES - a juried quilt show - the NEQM is going to feature a special exhibit of our own red and white beauties:  Inspired by the recent exhibit of Red and White quilts in New York City, New England Quilt Museum Acting Curator Laura Lane has put together a group of red and white quilts from the Museum’s Permanent Collection.  This group of Red and White quilts will hang at the Lowell Memorial Auditorium throughout IMAGES 2011.  The exhibit will feature the stunning  "Feathered Star with Wild Goose Chase" quilt pictured on the dust jacket of America's Quilts and Coverlets by Carleton Safford and Robert Bishop.

IT GETS BETTER.  We decided to feature this quilt on a woven, Jacquard blanket made by ChappyWrap of Martha's Vineyard.  Our exclusive design features the Feathered Star quilt from our collection, woven in Germany, and beautifully done with a red & white (cream) design that reverses on the back side. They just arrived in the shop and they are GORGEOUS.  They are also selling right away - a good sign we hit the target with this design.  We'd like to do one quilt from our collection every year, making it easier for all of us to have something beautifully made that supports the quilting arts, makes a wonderful gift and makes an even more wonderful treat for yourself.  Bonus - you can throw in the washer if you spill your wine on it. Okay, maybe that's just me.....

The blankets can be purchased at the Museum's gift shop and at the Lowell Quilt Festival.  These are NOT, I emphasize NOT a fleece throw.  They are thick, woven, Jacquard blankets that are beautifully made.  Our first production is limited so be sure to check them out. More info coming soon on the New England Quilt Museum website -  or you can email Quita (Shop Manager) at    shop at nequiltmuseum dot org   (Spam bot avoidance right there.)   See you at the Festival!

Loving French Knots

Long, long ago (1984) in a state far, far away (Nebraska) I spent the summer embroidering French knots on squares of plain muslin.  I liked the process, I liked hand sewing, and I liked doing it while I looked at the map of Massachusetts tacked up on my wall.  I spent the summer making knots and thinking about my new life to come,  waiting for Labor Day weekend to arrive and my big move to Boston.

The finished muslin squares were put away and forgotten about for a long time.  When Mom and Dad flew out for our wedding in 1988, Mom found the squares in my sewing room and chastised me for letting them gather dust.  I never thought about it again until 1989, when this arrived on my doorstep:

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You could have knocked me over with a feather.   This was the quilt responsible for me getting in to quilting myself - I didn't think I was capable of creating something that could wind up (with a LOT OF HELP) this substantial.  The label is one of Mom's typical gems - done in left handed calligraphy:  " Candlewicking: by Joan Ciolino, Gloucester Mass. Quilt: by her  Mother, Mary Ann Major, Lexington, Nebraska. 1989."   How absolutely wonderful is that?

We use the quilt mostly in the fall but when we put it on our bed we have to put it face down - dragging your arm across those bumps in the middle of the night is not a pleasant experience.  It still serves a useful purpose, and the other months it hangs beautifully on our bedroom quilt rack. The colors are dated,  the whole thing is tired from many uses and washings, but it's the only thing my Mom and I made together.   In short, it's exactly what a quilt should be.

Check out this new site:  We Love French Knots.  It promises to be an interesting and informative place to learn how to create beautiful heirlooms.  As the weather gets hotter here in Gloucester, I find myself needing portable hand sewing projects I can take to our family room where trusty R2D2 (the mobile AC) makes my life bearable.  Happy 4th of July - I met my husband 24 years ago today.  He REALLY makes my life bearable....

Bridal Etiquette and the Lack Thereof

It has been a while since my earlier installment of wedding and guest advice/etiquette.  I am reminded of this because as I wound my way around Gloucester's beautiful back shore this morning  I saw some of the hotels setting up those tell-tale white wedding chairs on the front lawn.  I felt sorry for all the people who had to spend the money to schelp to Gloucester only to find out that much of their holiday weekend would be spent not sitting on a beautiful beach, but  sweltering through yet another insufferably long and self-absorbed couple's wedding.

We used to do a booming business in printing formal wedding invitations at my husband's gift shop.  Now people do them on their computers.... you know, the same way you  would for a 3rd grader's birthday party.  As a 22 year veteran of marriage and about 20 years in business working with bridal invitations, I will take up my magic wand, put on my etiquette tiara and bestow some wisdom on engaged couples.

"Why do I have to have printed invitations?  Why can't I do them on my computer - people just throw them away anyway.  Besides,  an e-invite is greener and we really believe in that."

If you are sending invitations to people who are immediately throwing them in the trash you should probably not have invited them to your wedding in the first place, just sayin'.  Also - can you use that same argument about what to feed them?  After all, they are just going to poop it away the next day, so why spend the money on something delicious? Email invitations are lovely - if your guests like helping out Nigerian millionaires or need to buy prescriptions drugs in Mexico, because an emailed wedding invitation should go right in to the spam file.

We have been together for a long time and we just want money for wedding gifts.  How do we put that on the invitation, or let people know?

Send them an invoice.

My mom and my future mother-in-law don't want to wear (insert color here) for the wedding.  I have tried to tell them how important this is, but they say  they look terrible in that color and want to choose their dresses themselves. It's MY wedding and they should wear what I want them to wear, right?

No.   Google the earthquake in Japan, look at some pictures of starving children, check out the situation in Darfur. Those are real problems. These are grown women who are perfectly capable of dressing themselves and have done it for years. Shut up already.

Some of my bridesmaids need to lose some weight - and one of them has a bad dye job.  What is the best way to tell them what I need them to do to get ready for my wedding?

Tell them whatever you like, but follow it up with, "And I promise to get my tubes tied and never reproduce."  Knowing that the BS will die with you will help them grit their teeth and push through the day.

Do I have to write thank you notes?  I am very busy and my boyfriend absolutely refuses to help!

No, you do not have to write thank-you notes. Seriously.  Just return all the gifts. Problem solved!

Okay, but I want the gifts.  How about those pre-printed notes that say something lovely like, "Thank you for sharing our special day - Love  X and X " ?

Nice. Really? Nothing says "screw you" like a form letter. 

We want to have a really lovely dinner for our reception and we're a little nervous that people won't know how much to give to make sure the cost is covered. 

Okay, once again - send them an invoice.  Better yet,  contemplate the proper definition of "guest" and realize the dinner is your gift to them.  While I have your attention, whatever they choose to give you is their gift to you.  You will receive some lovely things, some not-so-lovely things.  The mark of maturity and true love is to acknowledge them with equal enthusiasm and grace.

Okay, that's enough for today.  I am fatigued by answering questions that have no place in civilized society.  Let's all work together to return to the days when weddings were a joyful occasion for everyone involved, m'kay?  Next time we'll talk about leaving your guests waiting for 3 hours while you go take your stupid pictures and show up at the reception half in the tank.

I Need A Genie

When I was a kid I loved watching I Dream of Jeannie  because I thought it would be so COOL to be able to BLINK BLINK and the housework would be done, BLINK BLINK and the laundry, cooking, etc. would all be finished in a flash.  Even then I knew that Jeannie was a dumb broad if she thought the way to Major Nelson's heart was doing the vacuuming and cooking all by herself.  Everyone knows the  real way to a man's heart, and it is NOT by being an immaculate housekeeper, just sayin'.

Instead of enjoying my new fabrics and my Alabama Beauty  INKLINGO patterns  I have spent the last week-plus  cleaning my BUNS off.  I've thrown out, de-cluttered, smuggled bags out of the house for Goodwill (my husband still has his original diapers....) and spent today balancing on a chair cutting the trim in and around the bathroom cabinets, mirror, tub and closet.  There must be 9 miles of trim in that bathroom. Normally I love to paint, but my husband got a hold of my (yes, MY) cutting brushes and wrecked my favorite one, leaving me with a sub-standard brush to cut 9 miles of trim (French Linen Gray, BTW) in this bathroom. (Note: If anyone from Pittsburgh Paints is reading this, you guys have GOT to get your act together.  This stuff is not covering well and frankly, it's a little drippy.  I used to love you guys but I have 3 rooms that need paint and this is the last gallon of P.P. that is going up in my house for a long time.)

I guess this would all be okay if MY relatives  were coming to visit ( hell, I'd make them paint ) but it is HIS cousins.  We haven't seen these people since our wedding almost 23 years ago so I'm not sure what we will be talking about, but there you go. They are coming for a 4 day festival that I avoid like the plague.  St. Peter's Fiesta used to be a lovely novena-based celebration of faith that culminated in the blessing of the fishing fleet and some fiercely good Sicilian cooking.  It has degenerated into a 5 day drunk complete with a sleazy carnival and a baby boom 9 months from now when all the babies will be named "Peter".  It saddens me to see something that was once so beautiful become such a nightmare.  Note to Gloucester Italians:  "Fiesta" is not even a word not found in your language. Be authentic - your grandparents and great-grandparents had the right idea.

I need to get back to cleaning.  Sometimes you just need impending house guests  to light a fire underneath your slovenly self and git 'er done.  Joe will be handling the cleaning of all the floors, including the Chernobyl-like kitchen floor that is original to the 1975 house.  An uglier floor never lived.  These folks are arriving on Thursday and leaving on Monday morning.  I'm following them out the driveway and heading downtown to the flooring store where I will put a blindfold over my eyes, swing a cat and whatever it lands on is the new kitchen floor.   BLINK BLINK.  I'm on a roll.

Inklingo Good, Verizon Bad

I spent most of yesterday  beating the hell out of my Verizon modem (vintage 2006) trying to maintain an internet connection at home - to no avail.  Three phone calls and numerous gymnastics later I threw in the towel and  vowed online revenge at the store today (where I have a working internet connection).  Verizon offered me a new modem for $14.95 but  since I'm paying about $79 a month for long distance and not-working  internet I told them I wasn't interested in paying for ANYTHING else.  After yet another Verizon tech support FAIL  I called back and that same modem was now $69.95, but I "qualified" for a monthly rate reduction, getting the same services for $45.00 a month.  Seriously Verizon?  Don't you at least want to take me out to dinner first?

Back to last night - I gave up with Verizon and resumed some serious de-junking of my house.  We have house guests in 2 weeks and since we have not had anyone for about 5 years.....a lot of JUNK has accumulated in the guest room and elsewhere.  We are blessed and cursed with a large house - 4 bedrooms, 3 1/2 baths, 2 floors, full basement.  WAY.TOO. MUCH. ROOM. FOR. JUNK.   And since I am married to the man who inspired the TV show Hoarders, it piles up like crazy. I have made more trips to Goodwill than I can tell you about (and more than my husband knows about....) and I'm not done yet.  The actual cleaning is still ahead of me, oy you could vanish in some of the dust.  Wish me luck.

The UP SIDE is that I actually WON SOMETHING!  I never win anything.   I have craved and coveted this Alabama Beauty block (I poached this one from a wonderful blog called Postcards From Panama).  Aren't the colors fabulous? The first time I saw it was on the Quilt Obsession blog by Cathi.  She uses Inklingo, and I always assumed it was some kind of computer program.  Cathi just owns piecing, she makes the most beautiful things and is extremely productive in her output.  I marveled at how she did all this  so I  checked out Inklingo for myself.  You won't believe this -  it's PDF files!  No software to buy! You need an inkjet printer and some freezer paper (butcher paper, where I come from) and the pattern PFD files.   It takes a little reading to wrap your head around the concept, but once it clicks in it all makes sense.

So I send huge blog love to  Cathi  and encourage you to do yourself a favor and take a few minutes to check out  Inklingo.   Poke around and download the freebies.  I won a gift certificate from Cathi's blog so I went ahead and got the pattern for the Alabama Beauty block. ( I  have loved it so long that it was a no brainer, although there are many patterns to choose from. )  I'm not being paid or persuaded in any way to promote this,  I just found something I really loved and BONUS - it will make my quilt piecing easier and more spectacular.  So what's not to love?  Verizon,  THAT is what's not to love.  I'm an Irishman married to a Sicilian for 22 years,  I can "do" vendetta with the best of 'em.  Vendetta and Verizon - they just go together. Stay tuned.

My Britney Spears Moment

OOOPS, I did it again, this time the index finger.  I can't type - this is taking forever. Bonus - I probably no longer have fingerprints on 2 fingers, so I can go on a wild crime spree. The worst part of this?  I bought a rotary cutter cutting glove after the first injury.  Turns out they don't work if you are not wearing them.

I had to put the splint on it because the slightest tap makes it bleed profusely - and hurts like )(*&)(*^&^.  My self-guided anger management program  is not going well and I don't need any new opportunities to swear. I live in the Bermuda Triangle of psycho drivers (AKA Massachusetts) and since I spend a lot of time on the road I have to watch myself.  I started out by saying, "Peace be with you" out loud when some nimrod cut me off or climbed up my tailpipe, but I am finding it has degenerated into something like, "Oh yeah, well, peace on you!" more often than not.

I will spend my time at the store today playing around with the blog layout.  I can do that with my right hand and a mouse.

EDIT - in the spirit of full disclosure, I have a dear friend who (when studying in Rome) always signed his letters with, "Easter (or whatever holiday) Peace on You!"   When I feel I cannot spit out "Peace be with you" I always go for Jake's version!

Happily Ever After

I really love it when serendipity happens.

Recently, a very loving and thoughtful man  from Gloucester brought some of his wife's quilting things to the museum to be donated for whatever purpose they could serve. Wilbur loved June very much - as shown here in her brief but perfect obituary:

Born in Beverly, she was the daughter of the late ........ June and Wilbur had a beautiful wedding and returned to the house that was to be their home for the next 53 years. And just like the children's story, they lived happily ever after.

Among the lovely items was a pair of quilt frames, one style of which I did not know existed but was always the quilt frame of my dreams.  I have always loved feather quilting motifs but have never been able to master the technique. My mom always told me I needed to learn to hand quilt in all directions, toward me, away from me, at angles - and I always resisted.  I'm a two-directional hand quilter at best and was pretty much resigned to the fact that I would never conquer feathers.  Enter my new quilt frame:



We had the donated frames for sale in the museum shop for a few days before I took the plunge.  (The other frame sold in the same day!)   I am so glad I made the purchase  as this is the most miraculous thing ever.  The engineering behind it is remarkable - even my husband was impressed.  The quilt hoop is on a gimble, so you can whip it around - much like you handle the steering wheel in a car.  This makes sewing curves (aka the curves found in feathers) so much more manageable.   Big bonus - the whole thing kind of collapses on itself so I can slide it under my chair and it takes up (practically) no space.   I can't tell you how much I love getting back to hand quilting - it never fails to calm my spirit and soothe my heart.

I am so thankful Wilbur decided to donate June's lovely things that  I  sent him a little thank you note.  I'm even happier I could bring one of them back to Gloucester.  I think of them both every time I sit down to sew, and marvel at the great love I have seen, known and witnessed in my life.

A Visit to the Mothership

Two weeks ago we left for what  (we thought) was going to be a week-long vacation on Key Largo.  Since Joe and I carry the dubious distinction of being the oldest people from Gloucester that have never been to Florida  it was kind of a big deal.  We had a wonderful time, realized that the ocean in Florida was just like Gloucester (only warmer and with palm trees) and managed to be spoiled rotten by our wonderful host and bestest-buddy ever.  Things came to a screeching halt about four days in to the trip when we got the call that my darling Dad had joined my mother in eternal rest. (That is about all I can say about that right now.... I need some time.....)

We found ourselves at the mercy of American Airlines  ( FYI - they HAVE no mercy) and flew back to Gloucester, dumped all the summer clothes in the dining room, repacked the late-winter clothes and flew off the next day (on Delta, thankyouverymuch)  to Lincoln, Nebraska.  The next few days are a bit of a blur (again,  I need some time here......) but on the day before we flew back to Massachusetts my sister-in-law and I made a visit to the International Quilt Study Center (AKA "THE MOTHERSHIP") in Lincoln.  I always go when I am home  and it never disappoints.  With luck (and the divine intervention of my quilting mother) the Marseille: White Corded Quilting  exhibit was there to give us a fall-down-on-the-floor,  shut-my-mouth-wide-open look into the stunningly beautiful art of French quilted and corded needlework.  I was so blown away I forgot to get the exhibition catalog.  RATS.  (I'll order it from the IQSC because they need the funds much more than Amazon and for pete's sake  you have got to SUPPORT these places, people.)

As luck would also have it, the other exhibit was Nebraska Quilts and Quiltmakers. We have covered (at great length) my goobering admiration of the quilts of  "Amazing" Grace Snyder.  My personal favorite, Mrs. McGill's Cherries, was there hanging in all it's glory:

[gallery link="file" order="DESC" orderby="ID"]

IMPORTANT NOTE:  The IQSC allows photography (no flash) in the galleries.  It is very important to take note of and respect ALL  museum photography policies.  I'm just sayin'......  These are grainy because they were done on my phone, sorry.

It was so nice to have another  up-close  look at Grace's fantastic quilt.  It reminded me that my attempt at copying it has languished, needs to be revived,  and put on the very top of my list.   This was all made very clear to me by the fact that not only was I standing in front of it (duh), but 24 hours prior I was putting flowers on the grave of my Grandpa and Grandma (wait for it......) McGill.  It also marked the 100th anniversary of her arrival on Ellis Island on board the RMS Campania.   How great is all of that?   Jack and Mac are back together and Mrs. McGill's cherries (in the form of her children, grandchildren, great and great-great grandchildren)  were all there in the ultimate celebration of life, love and the Resurrection.

A blessed Easter to you and all you love.

Pot Holder Quilts? Seriously?

Thankfully, not  so much.   About a year and a half ago at a staff meeting (I work at the New England Quilt Museum)  we were discussing upcoming exhibits when the topic of "pot holder quilts" came up as one of our future exhibitions.  I was appalled - POT HOLDERS?  Seriously?  That sounds like a Ronco / Ron Popeil Pocket Fisherman Gadget Making Thingie.  And talk about tacky - POT HOLDER QUILTS? Sheesh. It is hard enough to get respect as a quilter without people thinking we make  quilts out of sewing potholders together.  Further discussion revealed that they were NOT made out of potholders, but utilized the same technique as in  making pot holders.  Each individual block was  about one foot square, quilted, then bound.  (The binding is what sets them apart from the quilt-as-you-go quilts that have the back and front seams joined without binding.)  Who knew?  I sure did not.

[caption id="attachment_1736" align="alignleft" width="263" caption="by Emily (Wiley) Munroe, c. 1865 Collection of the New England Quilt Museum"][/caption]

You can imagine my delight when I realized one of my favorite quilts in the entire NEQM collection  (the Emily Munroe quilt, pictured here) is  - wait for it - a potholder quilt!  It is actually a pretty intriguing idea, certainly portable, and SO much easier (as a hand quilter) to get up close and personal with your blocks when there isn't an armload of  fabric to wrestle in and out of a frame.  (I'm sure I could quilt 15 stitches to the inch if I could get that close to my needle...  or not.) The quilts that have arrived have been much older (starting in 1837) than I would have ever believed possible.  One quilt has small, stamped signature blocks with elegant, inked calligraphy.  I haven't seen the  more contemporary ones yet, they are set up in the workroom undergoing prep and condition reports before the exhibit goes up later this week.  I love sneaking in there for a peek.  It's a job perk.

Thankfully, we are not calling it "Yee Haw, Pot Holder Quilts - Come and Get Your Dinner!"

One Foot Square, Quilted and Bound opens at the New England Quilt Museum on April 14 and runs through July 10, 2011.   LOADS of Civil War references and stories in the older quilts. I'll include a link to the website because there are  lectures and even a demo of  techniques scheduled for later this month.  If you live far away and cannot visit in person I encourage you to  look in to this interesting technique.  It offers some intriguing possibilities.  On the down side,  my #1 job hazard is that every time we open a new show  I become utterly convinced I MUST MAKE ONE  of whatever type of quilt the show is featuring.  It's exhausting.  This time, however, if I lose interest I can always use them as .......potholders.  #WINNING !

The View from a Pew

I need someone to please tell me who is in charge.  We are running out of grownups in my family and I am sitting closer and closer to the front pew in church.

When making a graham cracker crust last week  I instinctively reached for the phone to call my mom and ask her about baking temps.  She has been gone for 9 years but she is still my go-to person.  I had no idea how much information was stored in her head until we lost her.   She was the central pivot in our family, keeping everyone rotating in orbits, tracking the whereabouts, births, deaths, marriages, arrivals and departures of the vast tribe that is our extended family.  When that ship sailed, so did a mountain of information.

We lost another grownup this weekend - My Uncle Ed.  The McGill side of my

[caption id="attachment_1616" align="alignright" width="193" caption="St. Leonards - the McGill "Mother Church" "][/caption]

family has/had a nice tradition at funerals.  We line up in semi-birth order, the cousins are together, the grandchildren of the deceased are together, the siblings, etc.  We then march into church with the immediate family sitting up front, then the grandkids, cousins, etc.  all in order.  I have noticed that as the years pass, I have moved closer and closer to the front pew. The people in church are mostly younger than I am - and sitting behind me.

When I am  in  Iowa or  Wisconsin with one of my sisters, we chatter endlessly on those long drives across the plains to Nebraska.   When we get stumped on some bit of family history or knowledge we hit the invisible OnStar button on the dashboard and say, "OnStar, could you ask Mom (enter question here.)"   Mom was our OnStar.  Our "MomStar" if you will.   A vast repository of  wide-ranging resources, trivia, experience and wisdom.

As I lose more and more of those grown-ups from my childhood  it makes me feel a little wobbly about who is in charge - who are the grownups now?  Me - an OnStar?   It is not an option.  We are destined to  step up, take the place of our elders  and pass along  those same things.  We are  the role models, supporters, informers, and safe-harbors of their life's  journey.

We are the grownups now.  We have the view from the front pew.

Make Valentine's Day About Them

Since my Bernina is STILL being repaired  I threw in the towel and acknowledged the existence of housework.

Sunday afternoon I was watching TV and  cleaning up the kitchen when a Hallmark commercial came on and announced something like,  "This Valentines Day, it's not about I love you - it's about I love US."  Luckily I had an empty stomach and was able to suppress an urge to vomit.  I have major issues with Hallmark (details on request) mostly about how they shafted the thousands of women who made them what they are.... but I digress.   I get a little up in my head about Valentines Day, not so much for who we remember - but  about those we overlook or forget. These are the people who really spelled it out and gave us a living example of what real love means. I would like to tell you about a couple of mine.

These four women are the McGill sisters. Three of them (including my Mom, wearing Valentine fuchsia!) are no longer with us, and we had a scare with Aunt Addie this past weekend. She is thankfully home and on the mend, but it got me to thinking.  When my Mom was in her early 20's  she gave birth to a baby girl who did not live for  more than a couple of hours.  Her older sister, my Aunt Helen, was a nurse - and she wrapped up baby Mary, put her in a small box,  put on her coat and carried her down the street to the mortuary. (Aunt Helen later told  me she did it  because she couldn't bear the thought of anyone else but family touching that baby.)  My Aunt Addie (also a nurse) stayed with Mom and Dad.  Can you imagine that?  Can you imagine what it would take to do any one of those things?   I've always sent a Valentine to Aunt Addie - and not because she is all I have left of these four wondrous women and I just love her to pieces. I also honor her for what she represents - lessons of unconditional love and support.  These  four  women overwhelm me with their incredible strength and resilience.

Now meet  John and Emma Major, my paternal grandparents.  They have been gone a long time but every time I look at this picture of them it makes my eyes fill up.  They lived on a farm with no electricity for much of their lives.  Grandma gave birth to five children at home in the same bed they were conceived in.   Severe arthritis sent her to a wheelchair in her 50's.  Grandpa was the caretaker.  Tough sledding, huh. They are shown here on their 50th anniversary - and just look at how they still looked at each other.  We should all be so lucky.  Grandpa died first, and Grandma always said she wanted to die on a holiday because  "her mother died on Easter and that was a joyful day to meet your Lord."  Grandma died on Valentines Day.   While at first  it broke my heart,  I had a wise and loving sister-in-law who observed, "What better day for her Lord to reunite her with the love of her life?"

That's the kind of love I am talking about.  Not just the love we have for our significant others or our children, but for the people who gave us a living example of what it takes to meet the real demands of love.  We all have neighbors, acquaintances,  teachers or relatives who taught us great lessons about love. I'm even tempted to send a Valentine to Mark Kelley, the stand-up, gusty, loving husband of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords. We all know  it is easy to love when things are good.  It is when things get tough, or ugly, or scary  that real love manifests itself.  I am thankful to have had such wondrous examples in my life.

Sent a note or a card or a flower or make a phone call to those who schooled you in love.  Raise a glass to those gone before us.   Open up that circle of who is or isn't a Valentine in your life and you will quickly  realize you are surrounded by them.  Make  this Valentine's Day about them.

PS - At some point this week either you or someone you know will say,  "I don't need a fake holiday for me to tell people I love them, or take them out to dinner, or buy them a card and say what is in my heart."  Oh yeah?  Go ahead and throw a bullshit flag and call their bluff.   It  does not need to involve a purchase or a night out, but it does need to happen.

Ahead of My Own Time

As we are experiencing yet another "snowpocalypse"  I had the rare opportunity to stay home and  watch some morning TV and see what was going on in the world. For some reason local Boston TV stations tend to carry the coverage all freakin' day long, advising us over and over that SHRIEK there is snow (!) and yes, traffic is SNARLED, and OMG -  TRUCKS ARE NEEDED TO PLOW THIS SUBSTANCE, and  SHOCK AND AWE  schools are CLOSED (!) (BTW, it's 10:30 AM  on January 27th and while we're all pretty much aware of how this stuff rolls,  that does not stop them - evidently  what passes for urgent news these days  continues to be the appearance of this mysterious white substance that threatens our very existence.)

[caption id="attachment_1548" align="alignleft" width="200" caption="Makes a GINORMOUS corsage!"][/caption]

I flipped over to a channel with a show about home decorating on a budget. I have learned it is all the rage to go to thrift shops and buy junk, spray it with high gloss black paint and call it innovative design.  Excuse me?  This is a new concept?  I've been doing this since I left home after high school. Back then  we called it "getting stuff for the apartment."  We shopped the thrift stores because we HAD to, not because it was vogue and innovative.  We bought everything there - apartment stuff, clothing, and fake plastic gladioli.  (Long story  - we needed tacky corsages for a party.) We just called it "used" and we were fine with that.

For a long time I lived with 3 other women who were roughly the same size and height as I was.

[caption id="attachment_1554" align="alignright" width="115" caption="You can see what I mean about the dress"][/caption]

(The important word here being "WAS." )  Consequently we traded a lot of clothes, enabling us to expand our wardrobes without expanding our spending.  Two items were heavily traded, a dress nicknamed Eleanor and a skirt we referred to as  THE SKIRT.  Eleanor was a lovely blue print dress that had an encased,  drawstring waist that enabled the wearer to cinch it in and create a nice blouson effect.  Once you untied the drawstring the dress dropped waaay down low, and you looked like a circa 1939 Eleanor Roosevelt (hence the nickname of the dress.)   "I need Eleanor on Friday" and "Who has THE SKIRT?" were frequently heard during the early morning scrambles to get ready for work. (PS - no disrespect to Eleanor Roosevelt, she was brilliant.)

In some ways I'm delighted that many are discovering the joys of taking (I can't bring myself to say "re-purposing" ) old objects and finding new uses for them.  It is not only good for the environment but it proves that older things are frequently better made than new stuff.  They also have more character and generally endure longer.  What saddens me is how many people overlook what they already have - or what their parents or grandparents have.  One woman in today's show spent $30 on china plates to arrange as a grouping on the dining room wall.  Nice idea - I did it about 20 years ago (seriously) to our dining room wall. The difference was  I used china that belonged to Joe's mother.  (She had a bit of a dish fetish so there were plenty to choose from.)   The ones I put up were from a set she bought to celebrate my husband's baptism.  They were never used again,  but have beautifully adorned  the walls of our dining room for all these many years.  I am happy that  not only are they beautiful to look at,  but they have such a special meaning for both of us. That is important to me.  I want everything in my home to have that kind of attachment or significance.

That, to me, is the best part of using old things. Before you go out to find some innovative design objects,  (see,  I can spew that  BS too) take a look around your own home, a parent or a relative's house.  The older we get the more stuff we need to weed out or give it to someone, find it a new home or new use.  Arranging 15   pieces of plain white china with a gold rim on a wall isn't near as satisfying (or beautiful) as using the ones that belonged to your mother, grandmother or aunt.  Recovering chair cushions with vintage fabric purchased at exorbitant prices doesn't look half as cool as cutting up those funky 60's curtains of your cousin's and doing the same.   It will look beautiful, cost you next to nothing, you will think of them every time you see it, and hopefully smile with good memories.