I’ve got nothing but computer work lined up today, but I am comforted by the basket of freshly washed fabric acquisitions at me feet. (and a plate of Cranberry-Quinoa Scones from Aran Goyoaga’s beautiful cookbook)
I feel like a squirrel, putting things by for the long winter… we canned over 100 quarts of applesauce, some veggie soup too, I stocked up on water and pantry items (because I dream of stormy days when we are all cozily house-bound), there is talk of getting a chest freezer and a pig to put in it, and now a lovely collection of fabric for the cozy crafting months ahead.
Some of the fabrics in my basket mimic the view from my window. The children wore themselves out already today, playing with dad in the leaves, and I want to make a quilt to remember these golden days.
And yet, there is no where it really belongs.
I keep my sewing machine in the dining room:
Fabric ready to piece in the dining room:
New fabric on the kitchen counter:
Second hand fabric in the office:
Quilt frame in the play room:
taking pics of blocks upstairs in my son’s room:
Fabric is taking over my house, people. And this is not even showing my basement fabric storage area. I need to get all this quilty-ness contained, and short of taking over the master bedroom (which I have not yet brought up with the Husband… ) I think my best option is to scoop it all into this officey-kind of room that we have at the front of the house. We’ve tried using that room for a couple of different things and it’s just weird, no one ever goes in there except when I remind my son to go practice the piano. So 20 minutes a day, tops. I’ve been craving a space of my own; one that I can decorate with pretty fabric stacks and bowls of perle cotton, a little place where I can go to get lost…The only problem is that the room does not have a door, and it is open to pretty much the rest of the house. We could put up a big curtain, but a big new curtain is going to be very attractive to little people, and certainly won’t keep the smallest one from going in there and wreaking havoc as she tends to do. What to do?
We are moving again.
Exchanging a 100 year old house full of character and charm for one where water doesn’t drip from the ceilings at random intervals. Giving up twelve glorious acres, but giving Garrett back two of the hours he spends commuting every day. And packing up my studio, which had a wall of windows overlooking the creek (but practically no heat), for a corner of the basement.
If I sound melancholy I suppose I am; I really wanted this place to work out and even had little fantasies about buying it someday, even if my practical self knew that it was a terrible idea. In the end our landlord made the decision for us, by dragging his feet so long on the necessary repairs that we felt like we couldn’t continue to raise our family here.
But if we can ignore its mechanical failures, this place has a presence, a patina, that only time can create. There is an air of fading grandeur which I quite enjoy. The old landscaping is overgrown and mysterious. Perfect for hide and seek. Perfect for prowling about with my camera. Luckily I took thousands of pictures here, enough artistic inspiration for the next decade is cached away on my hard drive.
Our new home is in a charming little town. It is brand-spanking new, so what it lacks in patina, it should make up for in functionality. We’ll be minutes from coffee shops, restaurants, and the quilt shop that has supported my creativity for the past 4 years. It’s going to be awesome. And as soon as we get there I intend to begin enjoying all those perks.
But for now, for our last days here, let me dwell a bit in the beauty and grace of this lovely old place. We’ve made a lot of memories in our short time here.
So I offer up some of my favorite photos from this place, closing the book on this little chapter of our family’s history. Goodbye, house! I won’t forget you!
I posted more of my favorite photos from this place here.
What to do when a hurricane knocks out the power:
Play Monopoly with the whole family
Finish knitting project
Finish hand sewing project
Take a walk and rejoice in the crisp, cool weather that blows in after a hurricane blows out
And, after eating mostly crackers and Lebanon bologna all day and wondering aloud how far we’d have to drive to find an open Cracker Barrel, (nursing mamas get hungry!) rejoice again when the power comes back on after only 14 hours!
Although I’m sure being without power would rapidly have lost its idyllic charm had it been much longer than a day, (especially because we have an electric well pump) this day made me feel extremely lucky to be surrounded by the family we have created and grateful that we were able to enjoy being unplugged, together.
Nope. It’s my in-laws’. Our house was not quite ready to be occupied on moving day- just lacking a few things like water and heat… so while our things might be at the new place, we ourselves are currently enjoying a cozy fire, conversation, and hot and cold running water courtesy of our gracious family. I was able to bring one sewing project with me: sewing down the binding on my Pinwheel Love Story quilt ( I will share the story behind the name when the pattern is ready). I tend to get twitchy when I don’t have anything to work on, so for everyone’s sake, I hope the house is ready soon! I am super excited about the next quilt pattern I have planned and I just can’t wait to get into my new studio and get cutting!
I do love sewing on binding though. It’s steady, mindless work so your thoughts tend to wander, dreaming up your next project or just admiring the one you are finishing up. This one is backed with one of my favorite Kaffe Fassett prints which made it that much more fun to work on the binding. Thanks Kaffe!