always been friends

If you wrench open a closet door and bushwhack though overstuffed boxes, you may find a thing or two that was very out of sight and quite out of mind.

Last week as I sorted zippers and elastic and buttons and pompoms, I unearthed a small charm pack; a tiny two and a half inch stack of pre-cut possibility that had arrived in a long ago thank you gift.

I sewed the blocks together into four-patches, my sights set on a table runner. Brown and tan, rusty red and dusty blue. I love blue, and it seemed the perfect background color for a table runner with such heavy earthy colors. Add a bit of sky I thought.

I began by stitching a soft teal square between each of the pieced four-patches. Then I added setting triangles on each end and began to sew the rows together.

The runner grew, a sharp diagonal ever longer.

Longer and longer until it was the length of my couch.

As I pondered the fate of the corners, squared or angled, I began to snip off dog-ears. They were Basset Hound ears! I ended up with a handful.

I auditioned backing fabric and chose one with a graphic vibe. I liked the contrast between the tiny old fashioned floral chintz on the front with the pop of color on the back that made me think of computer keys and screens.

Angled ends won the coin toss and I sewed on corners and promptly snipped them to mere shadows of their former selves.

Ta da!! A table runner.

Even with all those tan and brown squares, the blue makes a statement.

The statement is full of light and flight I think.

And the backing is pretty fun.

I think dark brown binding would have been interesting but I didn't want binding to be the focal point.

I might have liked the binding a smidge more if it had been a solid but I used what I had. Remember the overstuffed closet?

Of course, the front and back will never be enjoyed at the same time but I think they look like they were meant to meet.

A decade ago, I made a quilt that is slung over my couch or slung over me on the couch and it was also made from a charm pack, a five inch charm pack, but there are quite a few prints in common. My table runner and quilt are distant relatives. Not too distant. Maybe cousins.

My new table runner has such a lovely familiar feeling about it as though we've always been friends.

for best results

We couldn't get our ducks in a row.
In fact, there wasn't a single duck to be seen.
How unusual for Aldergrove Lake Park!
They weren't milling and muttering in the middle of the pond, nor tail up amongst the reeds.
They weren't perched and preening on logs, nor gliding between the rushes.
No Buffleheads.
No Ringnecks.
No Wigeons.
Not even a Mallard for crying out loud.
The pond was completely silent.
Barely a ripple disturbed the reflection.
We trudged past our usual spot to lean and look.
On around the pond past tangled yellowed grass.
Now in Spring, secret pathways are revealed that summers lush growth hides.
The park is full to the brim with all kinds of creatures it seems.
I reminded myself of this fact even as I pondered the unusual quiet on the water.
And then, right on cue we heard through the tangle of blackberry and wild rose, splashing.
Happy splashing.
Squinting through the brambles we could see a Junco, hunkered in the water at pond edge, splashing and sloshing, like an old prospector having his yearly bath. I almost expected to see graying long johns over a branch.
In an instant it erupted from the water, and streaked into the open branches of a small Alder tree. Then with echoing snap after snap, like a deck of cards being shuffled, wing and tail feathers flashed.
A little bathing bird that could have its own care label.
Wash in cold water and air dry for best results. 

little skiiers

Ahhhhhh, another Blue River photo with the inevitable snow.
I love this picture; my sisters standing like little Hummels, my father hunkered down to make the photographers life easier.
I love the evergreens freshly frosted, the ski suits hand sewn.
Little skiis.
Little ski poles.
Little skiers.