The last year of the first decade of the 21st century is drawing to a close, and what a decade it’s been. I’ve gone from twenties to thirties, single to married, South Africa to England… How about you?
I’ve also moved from the stitching sidelines right into the thick of things over the past 10 years. And there’s no going back once the needlebug’s bitten. One can only keep moving forward.
So in keeping with the spirit of this onwards and upwards journey through the world of needlework, I’ve given my free designs a bit of a facelift. It came to my attention recently that the Jacobean Leaves series was proving tricky to print (thanks, Pat). So I’ve reformatted them as PDF downloads and loaded them on to my website, along with the Bloomin’ Marvellous designs I’ve posted so far. This makes them a whole lot easier to save and/or print, and keeps the size of the design true. Browse by range under the “free patterns” section.
Another oversight that was brought to my attention is the rather obvious fact that the US uses letter size paper rather than A4. The patterns I have for sale in my online shop at the moment print at letter size without any problems, but I’ll be offering both sizes from now on – starting with the free designs. Simply click on the size you need to download the pattern.
The lesson learnt? Feedback is really important to me. So if you have any problems at all with my designs, including the free ones, I’d really like to know so I can fix them as soon as possible. Please leave a comment or email me – mail(at)kellyfletcher.co.uk.
That said, I hope you all had a fantastic Christmas and are gearing up for a brilliant new year. It’s going to be good…
Monday, 28 December 2009
Sunday, 6 December 2009
The purely practical purpose of patchwork
You know how old things can sometimes be new to you? Like when you discover a band that’s been around for ages and there’s an entire back catalogue of albums to gorge on. Or come across a book that was published ages ago and you can’t believe you haven’t read it yet, because it’s by an author that you know well.
A Painted House by John Grisham (2001) is one of my new old books. It’s different to any of his other novels that I’ve read. It follows a seven-year-old boy through the cotton picking season in rural Arkansas towards the end of 1952. And I’m guessing his mother would have been considered somewhat of a liberal back then, for spending days cleaning the hayloft above the barn and filling it with pillows and quilts to make it comfortable for the Mexican migrant labourers who would live there for the duration of the picking season.
This particular scene reminded me of how integral quilts were to the American way of life in those days. The women who made them were not precious about their quilts. They were functional, everyday items made from whatever was available for the sole purpose of providing warmth and comfort. I’m sure some were more elaborately pieced or stitched than others – the creative spirit lives in us all in varying degrees – but ultimately they had a purely practical purpose.
And when you think of how warm and cozy and at home it feels to be wrapped in a quilt, suddenly it doesn’t make much sense to hang them on walls or keep them ‘safely’ packed away. They’re meant to be snuggled under and picnicked on and used to build cocoons against the world. When last did you immerse yourself in a quilt, just to feel its goodness? I highly recommend it.
A Painted House by John Grisham (2001) is one of my new old books. It’s different to any of his other novels that I’ve read. It follows a seven-year-old boy through the cotton picking season in rural Arkansas towards the end of 1952. And I’m guessing his mother would have been considered somewhat of a liberal back then, for spending days cleaning the hayloft above the barn and filling it with pillows and quilts to make it comfortable for the Mexican migrant labourers who would live there for the duration of the picking season.
This particular scene reminded me of how integral quilts were to the American way of life in those days. The women who made them were not precious about their quilts. They were functional, everyday items made from whatever was available for the sole purpose of providing warmth and comfort. I’m sure some were more elaborately pieced or stitched than others – the creative spirit lives in us all in varying degrees – but ultimately they had a purely practical purpose.
And when you think of how warm and cozy and at home it feels to be wrapped in a quilt, suddenly it doesn’t make much sense to hang them on walls or keep them ‘safely’ packed away. They’re meant to be snuggled under and picnicked on and used to build cocoons against the world. When last did you immerse yourself in a quilt, just to feel its goodness? I highly recommend it.
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