Olive & Co.

After my Slowly, Slowly post last week, I kept plugging away slowly at these pinafores to take into the new Olive & Co. in my old space in the Hunter St Mall.
It took a week longer than I was hoping, but at a pace where I just did it in little bits, in between other quilting and mess-making (cutting) projects. That post, though sounding a bit frustrated and resigned, actually really helped me think through what I wanted for the next steps, in light of the fact that I was, a) human, and b) a mother.

I readjusted my goals to a more "I'd like to work on these things next" type posture, rather than "this is what I will get done this month." It moved the focus from results to process, which is much more fun, and realistic when there's children (and my own mortality) involved!

Anyway, I just wanted to share those little thoughts as the context for actually showing you Olive & Co., a beautiful collection of home-made wares from Newcastle's Olive Tree Markets, carefully curated by Justine Gaudry.

Isn't it all so incredible! I feel so proud to be in a city that supports local artists in this way. These spaces, which were otherwise empty, are opened rent-free for creative businesses by Renew Newcastle. It creates an environment so different from urban shopping malls and brings people back into the city centre.

Olive & Co. are now stocking a selection of my pinafores and quilts. If you're local, go check out the new artists that have set up shop in the mall. It's a treat!

five years

It was five years yesterday since I became a mum. We spent the day yesterday celebrating Tully's birthday, but today I've been reflecting on the anniversary. I don't think of it often, because it makes me uncomfortable, the way that supposed-to-be-precious day went from the photo above to the one below.
They say those first moments make all that came before it fade away. Instead, I looked at this little alien and wondered where the heck he came from. 

The alien and I got to know and love each other slowly, rather than experiencing any fierce, instinctive wave of emotion. And if there's one thing I'm thankful for, it's that I decided just to ride it out, be with it, rather than fear that something was wrong.
And the more he's grown up and I've grown up, the more we like ourselves and each other. 
A few weeks ago, Tully exclaimed in a sighing kind of way, "Oh, I just love our family!"
And I realised that I did too. That they didn't feel like aliens to me any more, but part of myself. And I realised that deep down, that's what we all long to feel. That we love the unit we belong to. And that my role was to enjoy him and help him discover all the good parts of himself.

 
I've been trying to think up a poem for Tully over the last few weeks, but nothing has really been coming to me. Then one of our friends gave Tully "Oh the Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Seuss. Have you read it? We did last night before bed, and it expressed exactly everything I'd love Tully to know and feel about the world.

Here are some snippets:

You have brains in your head.

You have feet in your shoes.

You can steer yourself

any direction you choose...

And when things start to happen,

don't worry. Don't stew.

Just go right long.

You'll start happening too...

You'll be on your way up!

You'll be seeing great sights!

You'll join the high fliers

who soar to high heights...

Except when you don't

Because sometimes you won't.

I'm sorry to say so

but, sadly, it's true

that Bang-ups

and Hang-ups

can happen to you...

Somehow you'll escape 

all that waiting and staying. 

You'll find the bright places

 where boom bands are playing...

Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be,

with the whole wide world watching you

win on TV...

Except when they don't.

Because, sometimes, they won't.

I'm afraid that sometimes

you'll play lonely games too

Games you can't win

'cause you'll play against you...

But on you will go

though the weather be fowl...

And on it goes, with just the right tone of realistic optimism, communicating that it's good and right to hope, especially when your expectations are dashed. That the ups and downs are all part of the adventure of life. 

It's great isn't it? And God help me equip him to face life like this. Because sometimes there are unplanned pregnancies, and unplanned caesareans that change life forever. And some surprises will bring unfathomed grief, and others, an adventure you can only enjoy if you dive in, shoes and all. 

xx

Beauty from a Tangled Mess.

This lovely, bright quilt, sitting so softly under my sunroom window, had such a tumultuous beginning. I bought the fabric as a jelly roll (Spring House by Stephanie Ryan) while taking time off earlier this year. When it arrived, after umming and ahh-ing for a little while, I decided to pre-wash the fabric strips in a lingerie bag, well because I pre-wash everything, and I knew I'd be mixing this (and the one I bought for Evie's bed) with my stash. 

BIG MISTAKE! You can imagine my devastation when I opened the wash machine door to find the fabric that I had bought for some therapuetic sewing, vomitted out of a tear in the bag and sitting in a sluggy, tangled mess!
The photo above was taken after I pulled it all out, painstakingly cut it all apart and hung it over the airer to dry. It was one of those moments where you have to work really hard not to beat yourself up. You're not stupid. You couldn't have known. It's ok, it will still be beautiful. You can make something wonderful out of this, Jodi...was the mantra I tried to stick to instead.

So even thought I'd just invested money in precision cut 2.5" strips, I needed to choose a quilt design that didn't need the seems to meet! I settled on a zig-zag pattern and sewed together groups of four strips, then cut across them on a 45 degree angle. I added some Soul Blossoms by Amy Butler and some white because jelly rolls always sit a bit flat for me. And then I kept cutting and adding and unpicking and re-sewing until I had the size I wanted.

I decided on a close zig-zaggy quilting style. After finishing a few quilts lately with straight stitching, this seemed to take FOREVER! But in the end, I'm so glad I didn't short-cut it. I love that it works with the patchwork rather than cutting across it. It's like it creates movement and harmony all in one.

I finished the binding with a zig-zag stitch, inspired by Rachel's tutorial here. (Though, I only read the tutorial after and realised mine was different!) I sewed the binding on the front, folded it around the back and then stitched with a small zig-zag on the front, like you would with straight stitching. It was fast and effective (I didn't miss any binding on the back!) and I'll definitely be using it again. Sorry I don't have more photos to show what I mean!

And then it has sat in my studio for weeks waiting for the right mix of weather and help! And when it finally came, Evie wanted to join in too. :)

I think it's becoming a bit of a theme this year that through quilting, I'm learning more and more to be kind to myself and to roll with the punches. To let disaster lead to creativity. To be hopeful, patient and trusting. I did have to breathe deeply through some of it! But the end result is a pretty quilt, that can actually be used and enjoyed, rather than still some idea I abandoned months ago when it was a soggy mess. Another beauty out of tragedy!

This quilt is for sale in my new online shop, which you can now access through the 'shop' tab below my header.

Slowly, Slowly.

I sat out on our back verandah last week and opened up a blank page. Finally. I'd checked off the boxes I wanted to for May. I was excited about this moment. With no custom orders, no real agenda to make for money, I had a BLANK PAGE!
And then I started to feel lost. I could make that quilt I'd been dreaming up. No. Not in the mood for that one. I could start a blog series on....no. Don't want to commit myself to a blog series. Maybe I could...Nah.
Argh. I started to feel antsy.

Then last Saturday, the lovely Janet, who had been stocking my work in her shop, closed up to travel overseas. On the way to collecting my things, I stopped of at the Olive Tree Markets, one of our city's most beautiful collections of local wares held under a massive fig tree. I'd been asked a couple of times if I would have a stall there, and then more recently, if I could sell my wares in their new shop, Olive & Co (which is in my old space!) but it's never really been the right time. It was just beautiful walking around, chatting to makers I'd met through having my shop. Could I/should I do it?
I brought my mass of pinnies and quilts home, hung them in my, now very tight, sunroom, where they have been pushing me ever since to make a decision about them.

So on Thursday, when I had a bit of time to myself, I decided to finish up the pinafores and some vests I'd put up and out of the way for later. They just needed top-stitching and pressing and tagging and then I could take the whole lot into the new shop before I picked up the kids from pre-school. But of course, my hopes were too big for my time frame, and I only got a fraction of the work done. Was this quick Thursday morning job going to take the rest of the month? Did I want to give my blank page to finishing off things that no longer inspired me?

I've been thinking (out loud, to Tim), the last couple of weeks about how long life takes. How sloooww it is. How I try to escape it but it seems to be the way things are made to be. If we want to finish something, we actually have to make it. If we want to read a book, we actually have to read it. (Yeah, I know, duh. But you know, instead of downloading it into our memory via bluetooth.) This parenting gig is the longest job I've ever had, full time or otherwise. And my kids aren't even school-aged. It takes long, slow, interrupted time to grow children and relationships and a garden and a peaceful home and a handful of quilts and pinafores to sell in town. The important things can't be fast-tracked or downloaded at high speed. They can't be crammed the night before like I spent my years of university doing. (And it worked for me back then!)

So I haven't really settled on June, at least, not what I want to make, with fabric. But I do want to take it at walking pace, to accept that sometimes choosing one thing means missing out on another (rather than clawing for them both). Something about the mantra of living in the moment has made me feel like this moment counts more than any other, like a toddler who falls apart because it's not going to plan right now. But maybe what counts in the moment is holding it lightly?

This morning Evie took herself outside and fell asleep in the pram. Sweet, I know, but totally throwing out my order for the day.
Slowly, slowly, I said to myself again. There's always tomorrow.

Super Simple 15 minute Cushion Cover

So my day started with a knock at the door. It was my lovely new neighbour, whose own day had started by finding one of my new chickens being eaten by her dog. :(

She felt so terrible, and I felt so terrible for her. Pet clashes can be such a terrible thing for neighbours. But I knew her dog couldn't get out but my chickens could, so I assured her that she must have flown over the fence and there was nothing else she needed to do. I went out the back and saw with relief that it wasn't one of my favourites (isn't that awful!). And she went to work and I went to play group. 

Then when I got home, I thought of her again. What an awful way to start the day! And I just felt compelled to give her something to maybe make it nicer and help her feel ok about it.

But what does one give to a new neighbour? I decided on a simple cushion cover.

When I lay the cushion on the fabric, I suddenly thought of a super simple way to throw together a cover. So I thought I'd share it with you here.

I cut along the width of the fabric, next to the edge of the cushion.

Then I folded the selvedges over at each end and sewed them. If you had pretty selvedge, you could leave this bit!

Then I wrapped the fabric around the cushion, right sides facing in and pinned the overlapping edges together.

Pull the cushion out, lay the folded square out flat. I shifted mine a little so the envelope opening would be more centred.

Pin along both sides.

Then I set my machine to an overlocking stitch and sewed up each raw edge.

Turn inside out and viola! A super quick and easy gift in nearly no time!

 I added my little dino boy because I like him. Then I wrote a card saying

"I'm sorry your day started with a dead chicken. I hope it got better from there. :)" 

and left it on her front porch, which neighbours my sunroom, before I had time to talk myself out of it.
Now to clip my chicken's wings! Poor little thing. 

The Great Lego Debate

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This morning, Tully and I started the day with The Great Lego Debate. Do you empty the entire bucket onto the floor (Tully's preference) or do you fish around in the bucket for the piece you're after? (my preference)
It wasn't a very nice way to start the day. The kind of start where I end up saying he can't leave his room till it's all tidy and go drink my coffee on the back verandah, while he wails in his bedroom that he can't do it on his own.
While overlooking my garden, I started to wonder if this was just going to end up one of those horrible days where I have to follow through with what I've said, even though I didn't put that much thought into it, and he spends the whole day trying to get out of it. It made me wonder what I actually wanted him to learn, and us to achieve together.

The last two weeks I've been doing Rachel from Stitched in Color's Homeschool Handmade course. We plan to start homeschooling 'officially' in the new year. Aside from clarifying what style of homeschool I wanted to create (a decision that has overwhelmed me for sometime), I've found it so helpful to think through my goals for our home. Can I share them with you?

Order: Not in the strict boarding school sense, but in the peaceful rhythm sense. I want to make some (flexible) decisions now about our weekly rhythms so I'm not making little decisions all day, every day.

Shared Family Responsibilities: I've mostly tried to include my kids in the running of our home, but now I want them to know we all contribute to keeping it going. Tully is now Vacuum Boy, a super hero who wears a Buzz Lightyear costume and vacuums the lounge room floor each morning. A finished activity gets tidied up before the next one begins, except for special projects that are going over a period of time.

Free time: I've often felt a quiet, nagging sense of guilt about how much time I spend intentionally with my kids. It's not that I spend no time. It's just that I hadn't defined or examined my expectations, so I always suspected I was failing. A couple of days ago when the kids snuck away from the dining room table to eat their lunch together on the trampoline, I realised (again) what a treasure it is that they get on so well together and play so independently. I wondered if it was actually my job to let them create these special moments, rather than always feeling like I should set it up for them. It confirmed for me that I don't want to take Tully away from this 30 hours a week, and that I didn't want our days packed out with activity.

Holistic learning: It's important to me that my kids learn skills, and not just information. I want us to be learning together how to approach tasks we don't really want to do, how to take responsibility for our actions, how to treat each other, and ourselves, with respect and kindness. And I want to make time for creativity and things we love.

So with this in mind, I went back into Tully's room and pulled him up on my lap. We talked about how I didn't want him to empty the lego everywhere anymore. We talked about how he might find it easier to create on a tidy floor than one covered mess. Then I told him I still wanted him to tidy up the lego, that our days are full of things we don't really want to do, but we can find ways to motivate ourselves to do them. I asked him what would make him feel more like tiding up. He suggested listening to Brooke Fraser (one of our favourite 'tidy up' albums) might help. I suggested thinking up something he wanted to do after that would help him get excited about finishing. We talked about breaking up the mess into sections and doing one at a time. And then he decided to race against the music, trying to have it all tidy before the second song finished.
An hour and a half of fuss and turmoil, was all cleared up by a breather, a 10 minute conversation and 5 minutes of happy tidying.

I am so thankful for this journey we're on. One where I know I'm just learning too, where we can learn and grow together, where we can bear patiently with each other in our different stages.

Rachel's Homeschool.handmade is still available as a private blog till the end of June. If you're considering homeschooling, and want to think through your family's goals, personalities and needs, and read others' reflections too, I really recommend it.