L’heure bleue

The Blue Hour is one of my favourite times of day.

It’s that time between twilight and full night when the sun is below the horizon and the world is coloured a soft shade of deep blue and other colours start to leach away. It’s a time when I often find myself in my sewing room, pottering about; it’s not long enough to start anything big before I have to go to the kitchen to make dinner, but it’s too good to waste doing nothing.

I’ve at last begun, appropriately enough, a mostly blue and white quilt for the Husband’s bunk in Miz Lizzie. So far, all the blocks are from my sorted scraps and smaller stash pieces, but I suspect I’ll need some more fabric soon, some bits of dark blue.

Also included in the line up are pieces from Granny Maud’s Girl; she sent me leftovers from the quilt she made for her father from his old shirts, and I’ve made entertaining use of the patches featuring pockets! I’m getting along nicely, a couple of blocks here, a couple more there, and making good use of my Blue Hour time. This early layout is most of the dark centres with light out-sides. Coming soon are the light centres with dark outsides…

And because of course all colour has a sound track, I leave you with Acker Bilk and the marvellously and appropriately named Bent Fabric, playing The Blue Hour.

What do you do with your Blue Hour?


UnFinished Objects

On the road: I’ve been reading through the blogs and recent posts of my fellow quilters, and am shamed to realise that my UFOs are even more unfinished than everyone else’s.

In some cases, barely started.  I will concede that I’ve had a few major life milestones which have got in the way of the sort of sustained effort that turning out a finished quilt on a regular basis requires, but I’m not by nature the kind of person who’s comfortable leaving things unfinished.  So when we get home from this road trip (4 more days, and a 1500km return journey), I’m going to finish Morning Tea, and then get my nose to the grindstone.

It means resisting the lure of the plant nursery. It means that digging the tropical garden over is going to be light relief from hours at the cutting table or sewing machine. It means that the Husband will be spending evenings in his chair in my sewing room, being asked to comment on things he is only vaguely aware of and not fully comfortable opining about!  It means … (drumroll, dramatic music)… I have the perfect excuse to buy fabric at the Quilt Show in Brisbane.  It also means my brother will get his Tree of Life quilt before he turns 60 next year.  Happiness all round.  I’ll post the drawing I made for that another time, but it’s a serious, full-on, major applique project with incidental piecing in the background.  There will have to be major investment in fusibles, lots of templates and a major scaling up from the drawing as a prelude to getting out the rotary cutter and scissors.  Why do I do these things to myself…?

I also have in my cupboard fabric for the winter bed quilt I’ve been promising myself for a couple of years, fabric for the Kaffe Fassett Hatboxes quilt I’ve loved and lusted after for even longer, a UFO Ohio Star quilt in reproduction American Civil War fabrics, a fresh green and white lap quilt for my sister in law, a lap quilt for my sister in France, and the scrap quilt or two my frugal nature obliges me to make from the enormous selection I have lurking in the aforementioned fabric cupboard.  Now, I know that I can be beaten hands down in the UFO challenge by many, many of you, but this is not a situation I’m comfortable with.  So I need to get the garden to a point where I can leave it alone (apart from watering and feeding, of course), and then I need to crack on.  Let’s see how a little self-imposed peer pressure works.

I know that going to the Brisbane Craft & Quilt show next week is asking for trouble, but events like these are few and far between in my neck of the woods.  I actually won tickets to it last year, but ended up not going because that was the weekend I first met my now-Husband in person.  Since it was an old fashioned case of love at first sight, I never made it to the show.  So this year I feel impelled to get there, and since the Husband has indicated that buying books and fabrics is in order, and that we might actually look at and price up a new sewing machine with a larger throat so quilting is easier, I’m going to be in hog heaven.  Yes, it’ll mean the fabric cupboard is even more stuffed, but I’ll also come back with a head full of inspiration and a gut full of enthusiasm.

I think what I need is a small hand-sewn portable project to carry around with me instead of playing Sudoku on my phone all the time.  Why didn’t I think of that before we left on this trip.  Drat!  Oh well, I’ll have to see what I can pick up in Brisbane… Heh, heh, heh.

More soon…