Christmas, come and gone.

From the day of our first snow to now, I have not typed. I have not surfed. No single or double clicking. No freezing up, rebooting, or control-alt-deleting. No remembering or forgetting passwords. Email, yes--but only when essential to making Christmas merry. This year, I simply could not get Christmas and cyberspace to make nice and meet in the middle.

I chose Christmas. And I have a collection of blurry photos to prove it.

 Making sure, indoors, that last year's icicle lights would still work outdoors.

Painting feet and hands for our Christmas-wrapping plans.

So blurry, but so cute on Christmas morning.

Exploring the tree.

Over 300 goodies for neighbors and coworkers. One hundred of these.

Contemplating...


Christmas.

These photos turned out exactly how Christmas felt this year. A blur. But our days were scattered with moments of fun, moments of family, moments of gratefulness, moments of peace. Moments to capture and keep close, amid the blur.

Here's hoping your holiday was filled with crystal-clear moments.

First snow.

 
Charlie, seeing snow fall for the first time. 

 

Quilts and More (and me)

Just a quick mention . . . the winter issue of one of my favorite magazines, the fantastically hip Quilts and More, is out:

And that's my fuzzy scarf project, right there on the cover.

Modeled by an adorable young girl who, frankly, reminds me of me when I was her age. Really, I used to be irresistibly adorable like that. No, really.

The editors also created an alternate color option for the scarf, which you can find here. PLUS, complete instructions for making the scarf are online here--just click on the "Materials" link to get started.

My favorite part of all? This copy, featured on the pattern page at the allpeoplequilt.com website:

"A cuddly, warm scarf that keeps the chill out and cranks up the fashion factor!"

Hee-hee. Really? Cool.

ALERT: Jackspeak

The family sits down together for a simple dinner--grilled cheese and tomato soup--on a chilly fall evening.

Jack: "Mom, your tomato soup is so tasty."

Me: "Oh, thanks sweetie. I'm glad you like it."

"Yep. It's so tasty I can't even believe it!"

"Wow, thanks."

"Yep. You put the smack down on the soup. It's great. I love it. You put the smack down on the whole dinner."

"Even the grilled cheese?"

"Yep. The whole thing."

Baby Quilt "Friday!": Sad Days, Hippie Days

Back for another edition of Baby Quilt "Friday!" On a Monday. Or whatever day it is when I actually finish this post. (Oooh, the suspense is killing me.)

Anyhoo, here's another quilt from The Little Box of Baby Quilts, called "Sad Days, Hippie Days."

  
From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown. 

Although I had babies in mind when I designed this quilt, it was my husband who inspired it. He doesn't have hippie hair (anymore) or drive a hippie car (anymore--he's owned two Volkswagen buses). He has a hippie spirit. You know, a peace-and-love and let's-everyone-just-get-along vibe. A let's-be-happy-in-this-moment vibe.

These are incredibly rare and precious qualities to find in a human being. You will not find them in me. I have no hippie in my genes. (I do have hippie jeans, however. I am certain I will be able to fit into them again soon. Yes, very soon, I keep telling myself.)

Anyhoo, back to my husband inspiring the idea for this design. One afternoon when Jack was just a baby, I was watching him and wondering who he was going to become. What qualities would he get from me, and what qualities would he get from his dad? An amazingly accomplished self-critic, I couldn't think of any qualities of mine that I would want Jack to have, save for spelling. I'm pretty good at spelling. Except for that flub-up in the fourth grade, when I spelled bicycle wrong during the classroom spelling bee. (Bycicle. CRAP!)

My thoughts turned to my husband's hippie-like qualities. Instead of thinking about which qualities of his I would want Jack to have, I found that I had to turn my mind all around and decide which qualities of his I would NOT want Jack to have. Because my husband has that many good qualities. Which makes all of us in this family very lucky. Not that he doesn't have his flaws. For instance, he is very messy. But I think that may be a hippie thing as well.

So although this quilt was made with little ones in mind, it is in fact a secret ode to my guy. One day, honey. One day you'll get back to looking on the outside like the hippie you already are on the inside. When you don't need to play straight-laced on the job. When our schedules are ruled not by two little boys, but by the whims of the hippie winds. We'll trade in the tent trailer for another beat-up bus. You can grow out your hair. You can pierce your ears again.

Maybe I'll even figure out a way to let out my hippie jeans.

You can see more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about each quilt here.

If you're a quilter who's into family game night, meet me back here next "Friday" for a baby quilt and a game quilt rolled into one. Oh, and a little footnote about the beginning of this post. It's still Monday. But it's not the same Monday when I started this post. It's the NEXT Monday. Sigh.

Every day is Halloween 'round here . . .

. . . meaning every day is a day for dress up. As evidenced here and here, and over there, and right here. Yep, Jack's a dresser-upper. And if you've been following along, you know that superheroes have been what his dress-up is all about. But Jack shocked me this year when I asked him what he wanted to be for Halloween. Batman? Superman? The Green Goblin?

Nope. This year he wanted to be a sheriff. And so he was.

Ready to walk out the door for trick or treating. (Yep, that's already a smudge of chocolate on his chin.)

Now, mind you, this wasn't any old sheriff. After many, many questions about the purposes, personalities, and whereabouts of bandits throughout the month of October ("Mom, are there bandits living in Kaysville?"), Jack decided to be a BANDIT sheriff.

The bandit and the sheriff. The good guy and the bad guy, melded together as one. The lawmaker and the lawbreaker, one and the same. Two of Jack's favorite fantasy worlds colliding, one swallowing the other and vice versa.

Strange, I thought. At first. But with so, so many costumes to choose from--with so, so many roles he might play--why wouldn't he choose to be the best AND the baddest? He found a way to include the full spectrum of his imagination and play. Just couldn't choose between hero and villian.

Don't we all feel that way sometimes?

So I give you Jack the bandit AND Jack the sheriff. And no sheriff or bandit would be complete without a sidekick. So I give you Charlie the cow:

Earlier in the week, at another costumed event.

Charlie's been saying "ma, ma, ma" a lot these days. I thought that sounded a bit like "moo," so the cow costume was chosen. During trick or treating, however, Charlie sang "ba, ba, ba" around the neighborhood. Sounded much more like a sheep than a cow. Sorry, little Charlie. We'll choose your costume together next year, huh?

Happy belated Halloween, everyone!

Baby Quilt "Friday!": Baby Essentials Pocket Quilt

Welcome back to Baby Quilt "Friday!," where we take a closer look each "week" at quilts from my "book," The Little Box of Baby Quilts. This quilt is called "Baby Essentials Pocket Quilt." Looking back, I sure do wish I had named it something a little more snappy.

From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.

The title of the quilt says exactly what it is, at least--it's a wall quilt with pockets. Pockets for those tiny baby sundries that always seem to disappear, like nail clippers, diaper cream, cotton swabs, and the like. Hang this quilt above the diaper-changing table and fill it up with those little must-haves. (Just make sure you put the must-haves back in the pockets when you're done with them. Those must-haves so quickly turn into must-finds.)

Designing this quilt turned out to be far more difficult than I intended. Fun idea, I thought--pockets to keep baby stuff all in one place. Okay. But I wanted to make the pockets more interesting. Hmm, how could I get creative with the pockets? Oh, I know, I know! I'll make them look like little cloth diapers!

I bought diaper pins with little ducks on the pin heads. I bought a whole mess of terrycloth to mimic the look of cloth diapers. And then I started folding and folding, stitching and stitching. I lost myself--for hours--in a self-imposed fabric-origami challenge. But it just wasn't working. That night, I went to bed quite discouraged. Why couldn't I make my diapers-as-pockets idea work?

When I awoke the next morning, I went back to my kitchen table to survey the previous day's disaster. As soon as I touched the terrycloth, the problem was instantly revealed to me.

"OH," I said out loud.

And then I spoke out loud some more.

"I GET it now. It's not working because the whole idea is DISGUSTING. Who stores their stuff in a DIAPER, for hooey's sake? Geez, Jenny. You're a real dork."

Yes. Me and my fresh ideas. Creating pockets resembling something that would usually hold poo-poo and pee-pee. Fresh, indeed.

Flushed that idea right down the--well, you know. Now they're just normal 'ol pockets. But I did stick with the terrycloth. I like how the fabric puffs out from the blocks and provides a little more stability than a quilting-cotton pocket would.

And where did this quilt end up? Right after the "little box" was published I was interviewed for a weekend feature in our local newspaper, here. Soon after I received an email from a woman who was looking for donations. She was coordinating a silent auction for a baby who had a very rare disease, a disease that took almost every baby before their first birthday. So I gave her this quilt, along with a signed copy of the "little box." I've lost touch with her since then, but I'm glad this quilt found a home in that kind of way. And in a way that helped a baby and her family. Fitting. And I'm thrilled I didn't have to give them the "Poo-Poo Pee-Pee Diaper Quilt." Just the "Baby Essentials Pocket Quilt."

You can view more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about each quilt here.

Next week is all about a quilt I designed for babies and the hippies who love them. Like my husband. Strong and straight-laced on the outside. Ooey-gooey hippie on the inside. Hope to see you back here next "Friday!"

(Oh, and I almost forgot . . . took this picture to show that a little more of that whole mess of terrycloth did get used up this Halloween:)

Little ghosts filled with a candy surprise, for Jack's Halloween party at preschool...

Don'tcha love it when you use up something from your stash that you never, never thought you would touch again? Me too.

ALERT: Jackspeak

Jack's frustration builds as he attempts to dribble a ball. Bounce to hand, bounce to hand, bounce . . . bounce, bounce, bounce.

Jack: "Ammit. Ammit. Ammit!"

Me: "You're doing pretty good, Jacky. Good practicing. What's that you're saying?"

"Mommy, there's a new word. I made it to say when I'm frustrated."

"Oh. And what is it?"

"Ammit."

"Ah, that sounds like a good word to use to get your frustration out."

"It is."

"You know, it reminds me of another word."

"What word does it remind you of?"

"Well, it's a word we don't say."

"But no, you have to tell me the word. I'm not sure what you mean. You have to TELL ME the word."

"Okay. The word I'm thinking of is 'dammit.'"

"Yep, that's the word. That's the word we don't say. I don't say 'dammit.' I say 'ammit.' When I'm frustrated, I say 'ammit.'"

"Good thinking, Jack. You gonna practice your dribbling a bit more?"

"Yep."

Bounce to hand, bounce to hand, bounce . . . bounce, bounce, bounce.

"AMMIT!"

Baby Quilt Friday!: Little Log Cabin

Welcome back to Baby Quilt Friday! on a Friday. (I hope, anyway . . . it's Friday in the a.m. right now. I'm hoping I can write this from start to finish before midnight.)

This is one of the first quilts I made for The Little Box of Baby Quilts, called "Little Log Cabin."

 
From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.

The Log Cabin block is easily my favorite of all quilt-block designs. It's easy, it's fast, and you can sew it up in an infinite variety of ways. Two logs, twenty logs. Big cabin, little cabin. Arty cabin, crafty cabin. Baby cabin, big-person cabin. As long as you have a triangle set up in your workspace--cut, sew, press--construction is simple. Hypnotic, really. Almost hallucenogenic. Fun stuff.

So it's not the construction that makes this quilt a bit different. I think it's just the color scheme. I love the look of hand-dyed fabrics and wanted to try them in a baby quilt. I think the result is just fun and cheerful. If I made the quilt again, I would try green, purple, and blue hand-dyed fabrics. 'Cause, you know, I got me some boys. Baby girls are not in my future. I'm too old to have another baby just so I can use a color scheme. Sigh.

I suppose there isn't really a story behind this quilt, except that it was the first to find a home outside of our home. It is now with Adrienne, my niece's daughter. She came into the world just as my quilts were being shipped back to me from Martingale & Company, publisher of the "little box." Adrienne is fun and cheerful, so I think I chose the right quilt to give to her. If she ever gets a brother, I may just make this one up again. For the baby. And for those bonus hypnotic and hallucenogenic effects, too.

You can view more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about each quilt here.

Next time is all about the "Baby Essentials Pocket Quilt," which actually started out as a horrible, disgusting idea. Hope to see you back here for the somewhat stinky story.

(And by the way . . . I didn't end up finishing this post on Friday. Obviously. Someday I'll have all the time in the world to post, I know. But when that time comes, what the hooey will I post about? Best just to title these "little box" posts as Baby Quilt "Friday!" posts, with the "Friday" in quotes. Heaving sigh of relief. There. Feeling much better about that now.)

Naptime in the family bed

Ah, naptime. To call it quits, right in the middle of the day. To drift off into nowhere for a while, just a little while, until you are needed again. To snuggle up to someone you love. To have someone snuggle up to you. To find that someone still sleeping next to you when you awake. Slow breath, softened face. Silence.

Oh, how I miss naptime in the family bed.

Until this fall, our Jack was a napper. We're talking two to three hour naps, every day. During my pregnancy with Charlie, Jack and I napped together every day. We'd snuggle in bed with a book around 1 p.m., and then cover ourselves up from toes to chins in too many blankets. Sometimes a little back would get a rub, sometimes a little leg would cross over a big leg. Sometimes one hand would hold another. And then, just sleep. Blissful sleep.

Sweet little Charlie came. And since the day he came home--even with four solid years of growing my own homemade mama wisdom--I haven't been able to get my two boys to nap at the same time. Not even for ten minutes. I recently took the boys on a flight to Denver with my sister and her daughter. On the flight there, my boys DID nap at the same time, Jack in his seat, Charlie in my arms. My sister looked across the aisle and noticed they were both conked out.

"Look," my sister whispered. "Your two are sleeping at the same time and you can't do anything--not even go to the bathroom!"

She was right. And my hypersonic fear of flying meant I couldn't even sleep along with them. Which is really all I've wanted to do since Charlie arrived. Sleep with both my babes in the middle of the day.

They say be careful what you wish for. It was a cruel moment--the realization that my dream of two boys napping had come true as I was silently screaming, hurtling through the air at 500 miles per hour, 30,000 feet above the earth. Strangely, though, the moment has given me hope. Remember in the movie Dumb and Dumber, when the leading lady tells Jim Carrey's character that he has a one in a million chance of hooking up with her? What does Jim's character say? He happily says, "So you're saying there's still a chance!" (Hey, sometimes you take hope wherever you can get it, even if it is from a film that has the word "dumb" in the title. Twice.)

What I'm saying is, it happened once. It can happen again. One of these days, the three of us--maybe even all four of us?--will be exhausted, all at the same time. We'll head to the family bed, tell a story or two, and then snuggle up just like this:

And sleep.

Baby Quilt Friday!: Training Wheels

It's Baby Quilt Friday!--not exactly the Friday I was hoping to post on, though. Okay, not a Friday at all. Can we just start pretending here? Play along with me, will you? Please?

This particular Friday I'm introducing this quilt, "Training Wheels," from The Little Box of Baby Quilts. Really the only quilt in the bunch of 20 that has a super-duper lean toward one gender. But, you know, girls can like trucks, too. For instance, I like pink trucks. I like them best without the truck bed in the back, and when they look like Volkswagen Passats. Yeah, that kind of truck. Those are my favorite.

But, since my little Jack liked trucks at the time I was designing--and still does--I made this quilt:

From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.

I had planned to make smaller wheels for these trucks. I made a few. But the pieces were too darn tiny to sew without frustration. I thought of the end user--someone actually following the pattern--and felt sorry for them. So I got to thinking about trucks. What other kind of trucks were out there? Dump trucks, garbage trucks, fire trucks . . . MONSTER trucks! Made up of half truck and half gigantic wheels. That immediately solved the problem. There are four half-square triangles per wheel, but they are big enough to sew without stress.

One of my life's goals. Sew without stress. I have a sewing mantra (is that weird?). If you are swearing at your project, you're doing it wrong. Sometimes I chant it out loud. The chanting helps, especially when I realize I've just given an innocent, happy piece of fabric a horrendously dirty tounge-lashing.

This quilt also comes with a built-in race track around the border, created with yellow perle-cotton stitches. Perfect for racing whatever kind of truck the little one you quilt for likes best. All trucks, cars, buses, vans, and the like are welcome. Even pink Passat trucks. If you can find them.

You can view more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about each quilt here.

The next time I write a Baby Quilt Friday! post--let's face it, the "I eat, sleep, and dance to the rhythm of two little boys" phase is in its most grandiose swing ever, and showing no signs of slowing--it'll be about a quilt called "Little Log Cabin." From happy yellow to pastel pink to ouch-that's-hot! pink to blazing bright orange and back again. I don't know if babies will be able to fall sleep with it, but I think they'll like it when they're awake! Hope to see you back here soon.

Baby Quilt Friday!: Flying Frogs

Back to Baby Quilt Friday. On a Sunday. And I totally skipped last Friday. How 'bout that? Anyhoo, it's time for a closer look at another quilt from The Little Box of Baby Quilts. Way past time. Perhaps it's time for me to change the title of these posts to "Baby Quilt Day." Comments?

This week is all about "Flying Frogs," a quilt that I have been told is a favorite by many. It's one of my favorites, too. Everyone in the family gets to choose one quilt to keep, and husband Brett has decided that this one is his. Might have something to do with the story that goes along with the quilt...

 
From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.

After finding these fun pink, orange, yellow, and green fabrics at Quilt Quilt Quilt, a wonderful shop in Sandy, Utah, I got the idea for a froggy quilt with Flying Geese blocks. I had plenty of green to finish the quilt but ran short of the other colors in a hurry, mostly because I sewed a full set of Flying Geese blocks before deciding I needed to change the color order. Whoops.

Jack was just a babe then, and the shop was a 40-minute drive away. But my husband worked near the shop. I gave him some swatches and asked him to pick up more fabric for me on the way home from work. Ever-dutiful husband of a quilter, he agreed to the plan.

Brett called me on his way home from the quilt shop. "They ran out of that fabric," he said. My gut clenched tight. "No way," I whined. "There was plenty of fabric just two days ago on the bolts! Are you sure? Did they say anything to you about the swatches?"

"Yep," Brett told me. "They said a clown convention was in town. They came in and bought up all that fabric you wanted. Like, for their costumes or something."

A clown convention? A CLOWN convention? What the hey? What were the odds? I had no idea clowns had conventions. I was devastated. I had a deadline. I had half a quilt made. I had a chip on my shoulder. Why was this happening to me???

Thirty minutes later I heard the garage door opening. Brett came into the kitchen, a sly smile on his face and a bulging bag of fabric in his hand.

OH.

"So, there wasn't a clown convention?" I asked.

"Nope," said my sneak of a husband. "I can't believe you believed me."

I was humiliated. I was mad. But, lucky for him, I was more thrilled and relieved.

And so goes my life with a prankster. He used to call my sister pretending to be a salesman with a foreign accent of unknown origin, pressuring her to buy paper and blank videotapes. She caught on to his act much more quickly than I ever have, so he had to retire his foreign-salesman routine. I, however, never learn. He's been "keeping it real" like that for 14 years now. Real silly.

Love that silly man of mine. And that's why this quilt will remain forever his. Although he certainly does not deserve it. Stinker.

You can view more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about each quilt here.

Next week--which is actually, technically now this week--is all about "Training Wheels," a quilt for monster-trunk-loving little ones. Hope to see you back here then!

ALERT: Jackspeak

Dressed in full cowboy attire by 6:15 a.m., Jack is still prancing around with his lasso at 9:45 a.m. I call to him from the bathroom...

Me: "Jacky, time for bath."

Jack: "Okay, I'm ready. But I'm still a cowboy."

"That's good. Cowboys get dirty. Cowboys love to take baths."

"Yep. We gotta get clean from all that Texas."

Baby Quilt Friday!: Rick Rack Cuddler

Oh dear, I've done it again. A Baby Quilt Friday on a NOT FRIDAY. As one of a bazillion-gillion bloggers--of which a full bazillion are mama/craft bloggers--it probably doesn't matter much that my Friday is on a Monday. But still, I like to keep my word when I can. So, please accept this apology. Very sorry.

So, this week is all about the little quilt below, from The Little Box of Baby Quilts. In fact, this quilt is the littlest quilt in the bunch, called "Rick Rack Cuddler." 

 
From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.

Baby size, baby pastels, baby squiggles. Perhaps the baby-est of the baby quilts in the bunch of twenty from the "little box." Some of the "little box" quilts come with a story about life, others come with a story about a specific quilt block or design. This one was inspired by only one thing--that big fat rick-rack that Moda makes. Saw it. Loved it. Had to have it. Then didn't know what the heck to make with it.

Ain't that how it goes with impulse buying of any kind, be it fabric, rick-rack, or otherwise? Can I get an Amen? Anyone? I love how this kind of quilter consumerism has a very official-sounding name--stash building. You know, like, "I just bought two yards of this fabric and I have no idea why. It just called to me. No, I have no one to make a quilt for... no projects on the immediate horizon... no design I want to dive into. NO, I'm not a shopaholic or a fabricaholic or a holic of any kind. I'm STASH BUILDING."

I have only one rule about stash building. Don't take it to the grave with you. Use it all before your last breath. Helps a little with those iffy purchases. A little. You know, one yard instead of two kind of help. Any help helps.

Anyhoo, back to the quilt. I decided to use my favorite new rick-rack purchase in a variation on my favorite quilt-block design. Love the Log Cabin. Get your press-cut-sew station just right and you can wander into a hypnotic trance for hours. And who doesn't need a little hypnotic trance every now and then?

This quilt certainly won't take hours upon hours to create. If you've built a Log Cabin, you'll find the design simple enough. Sixteen units, four blocks. What will add or take away from your sewing time is how you decide to sew the rick-rack. I sewed along both sides of the rick-rack instead of straight down the center, which is more common. That added time at the machine for sure. But I like the effect. And when the quilt gets washed and dried, the rick-rack won't curl up--it will lie flat for all eternity. Nice perk for the recipient. All you need to decide is whether or not the baby you're stitching for will care. Pretty likely they'll love it either way.

You can view more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about each quilt here.

Hope to see you back here in just four short days for another edition of Baby Quilt Friday. Only four days? Sheesh--better start a new post now.

Baby Quilt Friday!: Elementary!

Yes--it's yet another edition of Baby Quilt Friday. On Sunday. Sorry.

This week's look at quilts from The Little Box of Baby Quilts turns to my quilt called "Elementary!," here:

 
From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.

I gave away the original "Elementary!" quilt in a post a few months ago to celebrate my one-year blogiversary. As you can see here, she went to the perfect home. I'm so darned happy about that.

As with several of the quilts in the "little box," I had a quick-and-easy theme in mind for this quilt. Why? Because I've been there. You get the baby-shower invite in the mail. "How wonderful!" you think to yourself. "I'll make a quilt for that fabulous baby on the way." The shower is in three weeks. No problem, you chuckle to yourself--baby quilts are teeny. Just a few blocks. Not like a twin or a queen, or even a throw. Easy peasy, George and Weezy. Right?

Fast forward two weeks. You picked out some fantastic fabrics from your stash. You added to those fabrics during your weekly stock-up trip at the quilt shop last week. Still, not a selvage cut, not a seam sewn. Pop machine quilting into the mix and you're down to two options. Find a super-simple pattern and GET GOING. Or make that trip to Babies 'R Us to buy what so many babies already have. Nothing wrong with option two. But you wanted to do something special.

Quilt in a week, quilt in a day (c'mon, WHAT?). You're wishing quilt in an hour and quilt in a minute had been invented. Option two is looking like the easy way out. But you press on (and cut on, and sew on) to achieve the nearly impossible. When all is said and done, you DID finish it. The baby soon to be born WILL have that cuddly, cozy, something very special from you. But do you think Baby really wanted your blood, sweat, and tears all over that quilt--literally? You breathe a sigh of relief about making the deadline and vow that next time, you'll give yourself more time.

Yep, I've been through it. Done it. Hated it. That's why there are so many rated-"E"-for-easy quilts in the "little box." Not sayin' you can go from first cut in the fabric to last stitch on the binding in one day. Nope. But a week or two? No problem.

"Elementary!" is just about as easy as they come. Four colors, strip piecing, iron-on lettering. And the quilt will last that baby until kindergarden at least, both in theme and in size. Unless, of course, it gets loved to shreds first. Which is what any quilter really wants, isn't it?

You can see more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about each quilt here.

I have no idea which quilt I'm posting about this Friday--yes, this FRIDAY, I hope. Please excuse me while I go and catch up on my life. I am running quite a bit behind. 

 

Jackdo: Rock, Rock, Rock-n-Roll Preschool

The stage is set. (With a Spidey blankee and a receiving blanket.) Audience seating has been carefully positioned--prime front-row seats in the form of bouncers, Bumbos, and playgyms. The music? Pure rock-n-roll. The venue? Kaysville, Utah, living room.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, introducing the preschool-sized sensation who named his one-man band . . . THE ROCK AND ROLL SOCK.

He begins his set with a soulful rhythm. His number two fan, thrilled to have snagged a chance to experience the show from the first row, pounds his hands and feet to the beat. Almost. (Number one fan is behind the camera.)



As The Rock and Roll Sock launches into an intricate guitar solo, number two fan looks on in infantile amazement. He is speechless. Obviously.



Rock-and-roll attire perfected (two different socks, Angus Young-style shorts, and no shirt), one final chord is held until the crowd of two is in a stupor.

I missed some of my favorite artists breezing through Utah this year because of being a new mom, again. Erykah Badu and John Mayer, specifically. But The Rock and Roll Sock just made my summer music experience complete. Jacky, rock on.

Baby Quilt Friday!: Buttermint Swirls

Time again for Baby Quilt Friday--a look at the stories and sentiments behind my quilts from The Little Box of Baby Quilts. Out of the 20 quilts in the "little box," this is certainly one of my favorites. And the making of this quilt all started with a trip to the grocery store.

"Buttermint Swirls" from The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.

Down the candy aisle, I spotted a pretty little group of pastel colors. Inside a bag of buttermints. Like these. I bought the bag and took the candies to my local quilt shop to match up candy colors with solid-colored flannels. Then I went home and ate the candies. The whole bag. It was a big one. 

Yes, sometimes inspiring can be fattening. But it's not often that you actually get to taste your inspiration. Opportunity seized.

I wanted texture for tiny baby hands, and I love this fun swirlygig design. The swirlygigs start with big and small circles of flannel. Layers of circles give each swirlygig a great lift off the quilt, so it's incredibly dimensional.

The layers also provide a little extra coziness and warmth. I know this because I have actually used this quilt. When you make a quilt for publication, it's all about keeping it pretty, keeping it wrinkle-free, keeping it clean. But now that "Buttermint Swirls" is back from her months-long trunk show, she's here to stay. She is the first of a few choice quilts that we, as a family, have decided to keep.

Just this week little Charlie has started to run his fingers along the swirls as he spends some "tummy time" on the quilt each day. And if you were to test the quilt in a lab to find her rightful owner, you'd know she was his. Charlie's DNA is all over it, in the form of drool. Flannel is much more absorbent than I thought it would be. Bonus.

So, not much of a story about the making of this quilt. Just the anticipation of what stories she will bring to us, now that she officially belongs to us. It'll be so much fun to hear what Charlie says about her a few decades from now. I didn't know it while I was making the quilt, but she has always belonged to Charlie. Now she's his, all HIS.

You can see more quilts from the "little box" here, see a video about it here, and read more about each quilt here.

Next week comes the quilt I gave away on this blog, "Elementary!" Don't miss her a bit--she went to the perfect home. Hope to see you here again next Friday.

Scraps

With Jack underfoot and a baby under my ribcage (and now in my arms!) for so many months, quilting hasn't been much of a priority. But it has been greatly missed. It moved up on my priority list this past weekend. Much sooner than expected. I started experimenting a bit--not just with a pile of fabrics or a block design, but with how much I could actually accomplish in these bits and pieces of time I am beginning to receive from my boys. How far could I get sewing a seam, cutting a shape, following an idea?

When my quilting time felt like it was up, I looked down at the tiny pile of scraps I had created. Hmm. Got further along than I thought I would.

What a surprise. What a thrill. What a pretty little pile.

Bits and pieces of fabric, bits and pieces of time. Just what I needed. Thanks, boys.

Baby Quilt Friday!: I Love Mama

Time again for another installment of Baby Quilt Friday--a deeper (and yes, sometimes darker) look at what went into designing the quilts in The Little Box of Baby Quilts. My heart and soul went into creating it. But, as evidenced in last week's post, absolutely none of my fabric stash did.

"I Love Mama" from The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.

I had experimented with appliqueing fuzzy fabrics in my previous baby-quilt designs. Now I wanted to try and machine sew with fuzzy fabric. I was feeling a bit timid. It's stretchy stuff. I can find my way around a sewing machine just fine. But I prefer not to play with the buttons and knobs. Ever. Everything is always in the middle. Eternally set on 5. I also didn't want anyone making these quilts to have to fuss with their buttons and knobs. So with absolutely no adjustments to my machine, I started sewing cottons to fuzzies.

Learned a lot.

The first thing I learned is that messing around with buttons and knobs was not a necessity. My technique just had to be finessed. I've heard many people like to sew with their stretchy fabric on the bottom so the feed dogs help push the stretchy fabric along. I found it was easier to sew with the stretchy/fuzzy fabric on the top so I could SEE if the fabric was stretching or not. It worked for me. If you've never attempted it before, I suggest trying it both ways on a scrap or two and find out what works best for you.

The second thing I learned is to SLOW DOWN. One thing I love about quilting is the abundance of straight seams--push the pedal to the metal (or the plastic, as the case may be) and find out how fast you can go. But the fuzzy fabric didn't want to let me go too fast. Like the sweet little old lady you are sometimes forced to drive behind. She's going 20 mph in a 40 mph zone. You don't get mad--you can see her tighty-whitey curls angled just a smidge above the steering wheel. You don't honk your horn or tail her gate or lift your middle finger. You know her nature. You just gotta be patient. Fuzzy fabric? Same thing.

The third thing I learned is to double up on pin use. I used a pin for every two inches of fabric I sewed. A bit of a nuisance. But if straight seams are your goal instead of ripped-out seams, pins are good.

Strip sets make the construction of this brick-style quilt pretty
simple. The lettering, with a few modifications, is borrowed with
permission from Sandy Bonsib and her wonderfully creative quilt book, Folk Art Quilts.

Initially I was planning to make this quilt reversible, with an "I Love Dada" panel on the back. But that would be making 21 quilts in nine months, instead of just 20. Funny. At the time I could imagine designing and sewing 20 quilt tops in nine months, but I could not FATHOM designing and sewing 21 quilt tops in nine months. Impossible. So it stayed a one-sided quilt. Still like the idea, though...

You can view more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about each quilt here.

Next week is one of my favorite quilts--in fact, our now four-month-old Charlie uses it for a bit of tummy time every day. It's called "Buttermint Swirls." Hope to see you back here next Friday for the story behind the quilt.

ALERT: Jackspeak

While listening to an intricate yet riveting conversation between his mother and father, Jack tries his best to join the complex exchange...

Me: "Anyone want an ice-cream treat? I feel like heading to the Dairy Queen drive-thru. I'm gonna get one of those brownie things--a Brownie Earthquake? It has brownie triangles, and Oreos, and ice cream and whipped cream and hot fudge. Man, those are so good. Brett?"

Brett: "Ummm... yeah, a Blizzard. With Butterfinger and... what goes good with Butterfinger?"

Me: "How about Heath bars? Do you like toffee?"

Brett: "Not particularly."

Me: "How about Oreos?"

Brett: "Hmmm. Naw, I guess just a Butterfinger Blizzard this time. What do you want, Jacky?"

Jack: "I want an ice cream cone. With ice cream in it. All the way to the bottom."

Me: "I bet they can do that, honey. I'll let them know about your special request."

Baby Quilt Friday!: Silly Stripes and Doodle Dots

Hey, it's Friday--time for another look at a baby quilt from my book but it's a box, The Little Box of Baby Quilts. I thought up the name for this quilt, "Silly Stripes and Doodle Dots," before I ever put a design on paper.

  
From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.

The inspiration for starting this quilt was obvious. I wanted to use lots of bright striped and dotted fabrics. Sounds easy enough. But no quilt comes without her own little hurdles. Even though I had been quilting for more than ten years, I had no striped or dotted fabrics. Not even a strip or a scrap.

Yep. There's a story there.

I had been quilting for almost ten years when I had Jack in 2004. Then, three weeks earlier than expected, I suddenly had a baby. A baby. A baby in my care, when I had never been around babies in my entire life. A baby. A baby who cried every night for three months solid, for three or four hours a night. A baby. A baby who demanded my complete attention, always. All ways. 

Frankly, I was scared of that baby. When he cried he scared me, when he coughed he scared me, when he slept he scared me (yes, I was the kind of mom that woke the baby up to make sure he was still alive). I was a mess. I was a mess in my mind, a mess in my heart. When I was pregnant I tried not to have any expectations of what motherhood would be like, but geez. I didn't think it was going to be like THAT. 

I decided I needed to get rid of any distractions in my home so I could focus more intensely on this adorable, terrifying baby of mine. I mean, for good or bad, he was here--I needed to make the best of our situation, right? Quilting was a huge distraction. Not just the act of quilting itself, but the clutter I had created around quilting too. I called up our local quilt guild and told them I had some fabric to donate. Like, seven garbage bags full. Except for a small pile of batiks and some batting, a nice lady came from the guild and hauled away all of my fabric. The guild was working on a service project for an Indian reservation here, so it was good timing.

I made that call without a thought. Just picked up the phone. The next day, my ten-year-old stash was gone. And somehow, I felt so much better. For months afterward, I focused on that baby of mine with all my might. ALL MY MIGHT. And then, slowly, a routine kicked in. And then he smiled. And then he babbled. And then he wanted mama. And then it was okay. Big, satisfying sigh. Everything was going to be alright after all. 

And then I was like OH MY GOSH WHAT WAS I THINKING??? My stash is gone. GONE!!!

What else was there to do? I started building a new one. All new stripes, all new dots. I now have a four-year-old stash that looks nothing like my first stash. Funny how a baby can change what you see, what you enjoy, what you choose. Even all the way down to your fabric.

If you have a stripey and dotty stash, this quilt will come together like a lightning bolt. The pattern is incredibly simple--just squares to cut and sew, cut and sew. Raw edges mean super-easy sewing and lots of texture for baby's hands to explore. It's really a fun quilt to make, and fast from start to finish. (As long as you have at least a few scraps of fabric on hand to start with.)

The moral of my little story for quilters? If you're feeling dragged down by your stash, pack it in your GARAGE for heaven's sake. The moral of the story for new moms? With the skills and the personality and the character you have, just do your best. If it's been a rough start for you and baby, don't imagine a future filled with only rough starts--just focus on the one day you're in. And be patient. That baby will come around. And when he does, he will be the light of your life. Most of the time.  

You can view more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about the quilts here.

Next week comes the quilt "I Love Mama." It actually says that in the center of the quilt. And why not? Babies DO love their mamas! Looking forward to your visit back here next week.

On Polaroid: pictures #3 and #4

I haven't kept up with posting about Jack's photo-taking adventures like I had hoped, but I have kept my promise to him to find a special something to take a picture of once a week. Time to catch up here.

Photo #3: Around the House

Jack decided on this particular day that it was picture-taking time. But it was evening, and baby Charlie was fussing, so we couldn't go far. No matter. "Let's find something to take a picture of in our yard!" Jack said. So we went searching.

We looked at rocks, we looked at plants and trees and bushes. We looked on the deck, on the patio. Front stoop. Back hollow. Nope. Then, in the backyard, Jack's eyebrows rose. "I know!" He dashed into the front yard and stood in front of our entryway door. "That," he said, pointing.

"That" is a wired and jeweled star that hangs to the left of our front door. I found it at our local thrift store for seventy-five cents. It's kind of weird. I love it. The hook on the house holds holiday items from time to time, but during most of the year the star is the star. I love that Jack thought to take a picture of it even when it was nowhere near his view. That means--for better or worse--it's memorable.

Photo #4: In the House

In our living room we have a large cabinet that holds my husband's strange little musical instruments--a tabla drum, small bongos, rain sticks, and two American Indian flutes. When inspired, Brett goes to the cabinet, picks up an instrument, and treats us to some beautiful, new-agey music. On this day, Brett was at work. "Can I see Daddy's flute?" asked Jack. I took it out of its handmade carrying case (which Brett made just for this flute) and told Jack to be very careful. He held it cautiously for a moment, and then took it into his room and announced that he wanted to take a picture of it on his throw rug.

 

And so he did.

Each time Jack takes a picture, it's the same technique--he finds the subject in the viewer, then holds the entire camera a good six inches from his face. Snap. Seems to be working pretty well so far.

Jack recently wanted to take a picture of two women jogging by our house in tight spandex tops. I waited just long enough for them to jog past the neighbor's house before I answered. "Oops, too fast for us," I shrugged. Jack bought it. For now.

Time for another photo-taking adventure soon, maybe this afternoon. Let's hope for pretty flowers, a bird's nest, a butterfly resting. Or perhaps a pair of old and portly man joggers.

14 questions from a four year old

Over the past several weeks I've attempted to answer a whole new arsenal of questions from Jack. It used to be that answers to his questions were pretty pat, straightforward. But these days, I'm getting stumped. With some questions, I've simply forgotten the details (see question #1). Other questions are more sensitive. Still other questions stop me in the moment--because there are thousands of ways to answer--as I try to choose the answer I want him to hear most. The best-case-scenario answer. The cup-is-half-full answer. The answer I would have liked to hear at age four.

See if you can answer some of these questions in a way that would quench a four year old's curiosity (meaning he won't ask the next question, which is inevitibly "Why?").

1. Why is the sky blue?

2. Are we flying through outer space, on Earth?

3. Why are there other countries?

4. Why do I have to die?

5. Why do people's knees have to move when they walk?

6. But HOW does Daddy get the seed into your tummy?

7. Why is this my bed? And what does the Easter Bunny look like? Is he a pink bunny with polka dots? Because I want to go to his castle and meet him and say hi. How far is the Easter Bunny's castle? (Yes, these were a set of consecutive, stream-of-conciousness questions, asked while Jack was jumping on the bed. I had no idea the Easter Bunny had a castle.)

8. Do I have screws inside my body?

9. Why did you want to make me and Charlie?

10. Why don't you want to have more babies? I want a sister!

11. What are inside carpets?

12. Why can't I be three years old ever again?

13. Are there ninjas in our city?

14. Is heaven better than Kaysville?

If you have any pat, straightforward answers for some of these extra-sensitive questions, please, send them my way.

And as for question #14, Jack, yes--I do believe that if heaven exists, it IS better than our little town. But I think there just might be a little touch of Kaysville in heaven, too.

Baby Quilt Friday!: Inch by Inch

Welcome back to Baby Quilt Friday, where I'm featuring one quilt a week from The Little Box of Baby Quilts. Today comes Jack's favorite out of all 20 quilts, "Inch by Inch."

From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/
That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.

I started the quilt with this easy-enough sketch:

I thought it looked cute on paper. I started sewing. I sewed all four rows of the Streak of Lightning blocks (a well-known, public-domain quilt block) and cut the background rectangles for the caterpillars. Threw everything down row by row on the floor to have a look.

Then, as I recall, I burst into tears.

The quilt was a mess. Busier than Bejing is today. Too, too, too many colors. Waaay too much stuff going on. And the caterpillars weren't even in the picture yet! After I wiped my tears and took a one-week break from the design, I returned to it for a fresh view. Ah, yes. Too many colors. So, let's take some out. I made another 15 Streak of Lightning blocks, all with blue backgrounds. That seemed to bring it all together.

Still have the original 15 blocks. I have no idea where the other 10 are right now. But that's okay--I would have no idea what to do with them if I knew where they were, anyway. Ideas welcome.

Luckily, the caterpillars came together just fine. When the quilt top was completed and I once again threw it on the floor for a final look, Jack--then just 18 months old--crawled over and plopped himself down on the quilt top. He rubbed his head on one of the caterpillar bodies. Then he lifted his head, puckered up, and kissed that caterpillar's face.

Triumph. (From a baby's point of view, at least.)

After having so much fun working with fuzzy fabrics for the Ten Little Piggies quilt, I decided to try again with the Inch by Inch quilt. I really like the end result. Appliqueing with fuzzy fabric is incredibly easy--the fluff hides your stitches. I could've appliqued the circles blindfolded and it would have turned out okay. Well, maybe not blindfolded. I'm not THAT good at it. But yeah, really easy.

One quick tip for using those fuzzy fabrics, though. When you are cutting, make sure you have a plastic-bag lined garbage can nearby. As you cut, shake the pieces over the can to get rid of any loose fuzzies. When you are finished cutting, your rotary mat will be a mess, too. I turned mine face down, rubbed it on the carpet in my office, and then vacuumed the carpet. I found that to be an easy way to clean up a potentially huge (although a very cute and cuddly) mess.

You can view more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about the quilts here.

Next week comes the quickest quilt in the bunch to make. It's a raw-edge, sashed quilt called "Silly Stripes and Doodle Dots." Yep, you guessed it--starring striped and dotted fabrics. In lovely lime greens, bright blues, and happy purples, no less. Hope to meet you back here next week!

A second podcast with Annie

In October of last year at Fall Quilt Market I was lucky enough to be interviewed by Annie Smith, quilt designer extraordinaire and owner of the design company SimpleArts. She is the founder of the first podcast for quilters, Quilting Stash. To my great surprise, Annie made a trip through Utah in June and hosted a potluck lunch for several quilters in our area. I packed up Jack and Charlie for our first real all-day outing as a threesome--I just couldn't miss the chance to see Annie again. It was worth the six city blocks we walked to see her (I accidentally parked on the wrong side of Salt Lake City's Liberty Park--it's mammoth).

To my even greater surprise, Annie included me in her podcast about Utah quilters, just to catch up on recent happenings in the WildCard household. You can listen to the podcast here. The first podcast from October is here. My, how things have changed! In the first podcast I talk about quilts, quilts, and quilts. In the second, I talk about babies, babies, and babies. And Mark Lipinski. In a good way.

Thank you again and again, Annie, for keeping in touch--and for keeping ME in touch with the quilting world with every podcast you post!

ALERT: Jackdo

During a reorganization of the 1,982 magnets on the fridge (along with a few egg shapes that were cut, colored, and taped on the fridge back around Easter), Jack randomly lines up letters . . .

Is he subliminally telling me it's time to sew again? I think yes.

Baby Quilt Friday!: Fast Asleep on Cloud Nine

Welcome back to baby-quilt Friday! This week I'm highlighting the third baby quilt from my book (but actually, it's a box), The Little Box of Baby Quilts. This one's called "Fast Asleep on Cloud Nine."

From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/
That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown. 

The inspiration for this quilt came easy. One morning I watched a sleepy baby Jack snuggle up under a blanket on our bed, sigh a little baby sigh, and drift off to dream. I wished for a little bed of clouds for him to dream on. I sat at the kitchen table with my graph paper and colored pencils to sketch out a quilted interpretation of that little moment.

I ended up drawing a design that was completely different from the quilt above. And I really liked what I had drawn, too. But here's the thing. When I started trying to figure out how to translate my drawing into fabric, I COULD NOT do it. The math just didn't add up. I had drawn a quilt that was mathematically impossible to stitch. Anybody else ever had this happen? Please say yes.

(I flunked geometry in junior high, you know. It's one of my deepest, darkest secrets. I really, really hate math. But it's true what they say--later in life, you just might actually use the math you learned in school. I should have paid more attention, tried harder. Slap on wrist.)

Anyhoo, I tweaked the design again and again. Never worked out. In fact, somehow I kept making it more complicated. I took a deep breath and told myself to try again. And this time, KEEP IT SIMPLE. I stuck with just two colors, and used only super-simple squares and rectangles. The quilt above is the result of that paring down.

The wonderfully kind and talented editorial director at Martingale & Company showed me a photo of this quilt after the professional shot was taken. She asked if I had meant to create the circular shape that links the four corner blocks together. (Stare at the quilt photo for just a moment, and you'll see it, too.) I told her, "Of course I meant to do that!"

I lied.

Funny no matter how well you plan out your quilts, they always have a sassy mind of their own, don't they?

This quilt was a favorite of several of my family members. But when my then 41-year-old sister, newly married, found out she was pregnant with her first child, I knew exactly where this quilt would land. It's now with my niece, beautiful Willa, who just turned a year old. I hope she'll grow to love it, just as I love her.

You can view more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about the quilts here.

Next week is Jack's favorite quilt out of the whole bunch of 20, called "Inch by Inch." Hope to see you back here next Friday!

ALERT: Jackdo

Most mornings when Jack wakes up, he says good morning. And then he says, "Will you play guys with me?" "Play guys" means we both choose a superhero action figure and begin acting out made-up stories with them. I like to say yes when I can. I get a kick out of the stories that emerge. This particular morning, the story turned unusually domestic. Starring Jack as Wonder Woman and me as a little-known superhero named Bishop . . .

Jack (as Wonder Woman): "Hi Bishop. It's me, Wonder Woman. I love you. I love you, so I want to marry you."

Me (as Bishop): "You do? Well, alright then."

A small, sweet ceremony is played out on the living-room couch. The superheroes even smooch.

Wonder Woman: "Now we need a home."

Bishop: "Well, I just happen to have built one for us right over here."

"Cool. Now we need to have a baby."

"Oh, a baby? Hmm. Um . . . what should we name our baby?"

"Um . . . well, we already had our baby. And now he's all growed up. And his name is Wolverine!"

 

That was fast. We now have an adult child. With claws, even.

Domesticity ends. The typical superhero story kicks back in. But this time we have the additional tag-team luck of married superheroes . . .

"Bishop, do you hear a bad guy in our house?"

Baby Quilt Friday!: Fuzzy Wuzzy Hearts

Here's another baby quilt from my book (but actually, it's a box), The Little Box of Baby Quilts. It's the second quilt I made in the collection of 20. It's called "Fuzzy Wuzzy Hearts" because . . . well, I won't state the obvious:

From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2007 Jenny Wilding Cardon/
That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.

I even saved the original sketch for this one:

 

Colored pencils just weren't loud enough to mimic the fabric I wanted to use...

When I was dreaming up ideas for 20 baby quilts, I made a list of baby-themed motifs for possible use. Hearts were at the tippity-top of my list. And I thought these plaid homespun flannels were perfect for baby's eyes, as little ones are always drawn to and delighted by bright colors. I layered three heart shapes in different colors, sewed them to a background fabric raw-edge style, and then cut away different pieces of different layers. When I threw the quilt in the washer/dryer to fray the raw edges, the homespun fabric fluffed up in such a fantastic way. A delight for little hands, too!

The technique used to make this quilt is one of my favorites. It's simple and straightforward. I love opening up the dryer at the very end of frayed-edge quilting adventures for the big surprise. Haven't been disappointed yet.

Right now this quilt is on display at Macon Sewing Center in Macon, Georgia, as part of a trunk show. She'll be home at the end of the month. She is promised to no one right now. And so starts the hunt for a good home for her. My goal is to get all of the quilts from the "little box" matched up with babies who love them, or with charities that can use them. One by one, the quilts are ending up where they should. I wonder where this one will land...

You can view more quilts from the "little box" here, watch a video about it here, and read more about the quilts here.

Next Friday I'll introduce you to a simple squares-and-rectangles quilt called "Fast Asleep on Cloud Nine," which uses only two fabrics. Another really quick one. See you back here next Friday!

Friday nights at the park

Most of my summers as an adult have been lazy. A lot of lounging, a lot of laying--or is it lying? Either way, lazy. Slushy, liquid motion for a solid three months. But my past few summers as a mama mandated a different rhythm. A high energy. Run, laugh, create, play. From sun up (just barely up) to sun down (way, way down). Every day. No exceptions. No Sundays off.

That's Jack's rhythm. (And that's me three paces behind Jack's rhythm, panting and wiping my brow.)

This summer, Charlie joins the get-up-and-go vibe that now surrounds our family summers. But at just over three months old, Charlie likes lazy. (I so, so love that Charlie likes lazy.) The puzzler--how to enjoy each other's company without denying my little summer dreams (hand-stitching outside in the shade, a Diet Coke on standby) or Jack's big summer delights (running, running, and running). Where's the middle ground? The ground where all six of our feet are deeply planted in happy?

Hee-hee. I figured it out. That ground exists. I found it a few Friday nights ago. It's at the park, when the day is cooling down and the bands at the ampitheatre next door are tuning up.

Jack--complete with specially selected parktime attire--races toward the playgyms to climb, jump, and say hello to his fellow climbers and jumpers. I set up home base under a decades-old tree, with just a few essentials: two quilts, a baby sling, and the diaper bag. I walk Charlie to sleep in the sling, and then return to home base. Lay Charlie down (or is it lie?) and check my watch. It's 7:15 p.m. Take off my shoes. I feel light and lifted. Free.

I watch Jack climb.


And dig.

 
And return to home base.


Just to catch his breath, of course . . . in moments he's running again.

 
Charlie. Lovely, lazy Charlie.


And what Charlie sees when he opens his eyes.

Jack and Charlie, free. Watching Jack play and Charlie doze, I get it. In their little ways, they are gently reminding me that it IS possible to create situations for us where I feel free, too. Like at this shady park on a Friday night. With my boys.

Free.

ALERT: Jackspeak

As I'm making dinner Jack runs into the kitchen, wrapped up all cozy in a Batman beach towel...

Jack: "Mommy, I took a bath with Daddy!"

Me: "Great! You look all clean."

"Yep. But I have a towel on. Wrapped around my pregnant parts. So no one can see my pregnant parts."

"Huh?"

"My pregnant parts. So my butt's not sticking out."

"Oh. Do you mean your private parts?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm such a silly!"

Obviously, there's been waaaaay too much talk about babies in our little house this past year...

Baby Quilt Friday!: Ten Little Piggies

It's been just over a year since my book (but actually, it's a box) The Little Box of Baby Quilts was published. And almost a year since I quit my day job. Geezo peety, time flies. With children and pregnancy and weaning myself from work life to stay-at-home life, I still haven't gotten around to doing what has been a longtime goal of mine--to post a bit about each quilt in the "little box." Reaching that goal begins today!

I'm setting aside time during the next 20 Fridays to blog about each baby quilt from the "little box" (grouped into a new blog category called Quilts from the Little Box). Each girl will get her own special day. Today, fittingly, is "Ten Little Piggies" day--the first quilt I designed for this collection. Here she is:

From The Little Box of Baby Quilts, copyright 2006 Jenny Wilding Cardon/
That Patchwork Place. Machine quilted by Cheryl Brown.
Nine piggies on the front. Piggy ten is on the back.

Gosh darn it. I do think she's cute.

This is the quilt that launched the whole idea of the "little box." At the time I started sketching out the design, Jack was just about ready to toddle. And I was completely wrapped up in the world of babes. I hadn't touched my sewing machine since Jack had been born, and I missed it. So with baby on the brain--and Jack as my muse--I started sketching, then sewing, whenever I had a few quiet moments.

(Oh, I thought those quiet moments were few and far between. They're even fewer and farther between now. I had NO idea how quiet I had it back then. Heaving sigh.)

Jack and I were inseparable--pretty much still are--and he got to know the local quilt shops very well. It was Jack who chose the hot-pink fuzzy fabric in the quilt above. He couldn't stop touching it, with his hands and his face, at the shop. So I brought some of the fuzzy stuff home to experiment. Ten Little Piggies is the result. The quilt is made with simple machine piecing, a little hand applique, and a little perle-cotton embroidery.

After the quilt returned from her trunk-show tour of quilt shops, I sent her to her final home--with my niece in southern Utah. Janessa likes to play with the project cards in the "little box," and her parents say she points out this quilt as her favorite every time. So now it's hers. I hope it will be well loved--enough to be in need of repair--the next time we visit.

You can view more quilts from the "little box" here, and a video about it here.

Next Friday comes another fuzzy one, called "Fuzzy Wuzzy Hearts." Lots of fuzzy-wuzzy quilts in this collection. Hope to see you back here next Friday!

A boy's life. In pictures.

Yet again, I'm lifting ideas from the book The Creative Family by Amanda Soule. For me, the book is like flipping through pages made entirely of gold--there are so many unusual, inventive activities to try with children. LOVE IT. The activity in the following story came from the book...

Anyhoo, this weekend Jack and Charlie and I made an unexpected stop on the way home from the grocery store after a huge yard sale came into view. Oh, good heavens. I'm so glad we stopped. Not only did I get my dream rotary-cutting table for 15 bucks:

And these fancy shoes (that cost more than the table):

I also picked up an old Polaroid One Step camera for $1. During my next trip to the grocery store, I picked up Polaroid film. For $16. For 10 pictures. Eeek. But wait, I'm straying from the story...

After loading up the camera and making sure it worked:

  It does...

Jack and I set out on a neighborhood walk to search for ONE SPECIAL THING Jack could take a picture of. We walked and walked. And then we walked. And then we, well, you know. Finally, Jack stopped. He pointed toward some coneflowers in full bloom in someone's yard, just along the sidewalk. "I want to take a picture of these," he said. He plopped the cowboy hat he was wearing down on the sidewalk. He was ready.

I gave Jack the camera and told him to look through the hole until he saw what he wanted to take a picture of, then to push the button. Big bulky camera in a boy's tiny hands. Jack squinted one eye, then the other, moved the camera this way and that. Then he pushed the button. The photo shot out of the front of the camera. "Let's look!" Jack said.

We set the photo on the sidewalk and sat down in front of it to watch the image emerge. First textures, then hues. This is what Jack captured:

Jack looked at his photo for a few moments. "I like it," he said.

"It's beautiful," I told him. "You know what you are now?"

"What?"

"A photographer."

"I am?"

"Yep."

"That is so cool. It's just awesome! You know, Peter Parker is a photographer too, mom."

"Yes, I know."

(For those of you who aren't familiar with the superhero world, Peter Parker is also known as the amazing Spiderman.)

So, a life in pictures begins. I've started an "On Polaroid" blog category to share more photos as Jack takes them. We'll keep the originals, numbered, in an album. My plans are to make time for one special Jack-and-mom walk each week to let him take more pictures. My plan is also to have him continue to take them until he turns 18. Although I'm terrified to think how much the film will cost then . . .

I'm the mom--my view is certainly subjective. But heck, I think this kid's a natural.