Saturday, March 22, 2014

Quilts in Route

A Gift of Love
As I've told in a prior post, I fell heir to a most wonderful big stash of fabrics that came to me from a Northern AZ pine-tree city, and I knew this gift would be used to donate some of my sewing endeavors to the homeless in Prescott, AZ.  It's a sad sad situation, like in most cities, homeless and  homeless veterans living in the forest and in storage units.  Families who have lost their homes, some living in their cars.  Prescott gets snow and the forests are cold.  I was on a mission to make as many quilts as I could.  Here are the first three, with more to come. I made labels for the back of each quilt that says "May my simple quilt give you comfort" and "Made from Scraps with Love"..... I have 4 ready to quilt the 3 layers together, there are 3 out for that process and I have more in the hopper to work on.  
 I do not toss one tiny piece of fabric away.  I can make a tote from the pieces, I can make little eyeglass cases,pouches, purses.  Those will be donated to the US Veteran Services to be put in the shop to sell to raise needed funds to help those who so desperately need help.
 I love taking a fabric and putting a quick and simply embroidery design on the front and then create a little tote.
 Look at that curly little dog...
That's it so far, but I am pleased.  And my friend Jean who runs the People's Place in Prescott assures me these sewing endeavors will be so gratefully accepted.

Monday, March 03, 2014

What Makes a Sewist Happy?

I try so hard to keep my 2nd spare bedroom all bedroom but I fail miserably.  It has always been, and perhaps always will be, a holding station for stacks of projects...some in process, most completed.  Recently my friend Jean from Prescott brought down 22 big tubs of fabrics of all kinds, all measurements from a closed art/fabric shop.  It took 2 cars to bring the tubs here, and once unloaded, the second car left and Jean and I began the process of going through each tub crammed with fabrics to see which pieces I could use.  I ended up with 42 bags of fabrics.  It took me 6 days to sit and inspect each piece, to open the piece up and make sure nothing was snipped from the center or spot.  I squared up each piece and stacked and stacked AND stacked the fabrics..  Eventually the stacks, sorted by colors, were put on a shelf unit in the spare bedroom closet, and the larger pieces (which I can use for much needed quilt backings) were put into a tub and a rolling 3 drawer plastic dresser.  Ten tubs were left behind that could not fit in Jean's car for her return trip, and those fabrics were given to my friends who also do charity sewing...I am in what any sewist would call "a Fabric induced delight".   My friend Jean operates a much needed business in Prescott to help out homeless veterans so it was an easy thing for me to say "I will sew quilts for them".  Some live in the forest, some live in their cars, and I will love being able to donate some warm covers to each.  

Stacks and Stacks and Stacks

 A few of the totes I've made. Some are adorned with embroidery.  These can be sold to raise needed funds.  And they are such fun to create.

Three quilts are out for longarming by my friend Yvonne....and I have 4 quilt tops "in the hopper" waiting to be added onto and ultimately ready for longarm quilting.  And many many more quilts are wandering around in my creative eye.  I am a happy quilter/sewist.  I have to chuckle when I refer to myself as a "sewist".  At long last someone decided that referring to "us" as sewers should be dismantled.  I mean look at that word.  At least it should have been sew-ers so we don't like like a bunch of underground holding tanks.  Donchathink?

Saturday, March 01, 2014

Quilter's Poem

I simply had to post this.  It's my kinda stuff.
    Twas the night before Christmas, 
       And the quilts were not made.
 The threads were all tangled, the cookies delayed.  
The stocking weren't hung, the pantry was bare.
 The poor weary Quilter, was tearing her hair.
 Stacks of fat quarters, tipped over in streams. 
Visions of Log Cabins, had turned into dreams.