Flocking Chevrons Quilt

It's fitting that I'm posting this on Friday the 13th - this was not my lucky quilt.

When I saw Jennifer's generously free Chasing Chevrons quilt pattern on her blog That girl...that quilt, I knew immediately I wanted to make it.

Photo from Jennifer's blog That girl...that quilt.

Most of those participating in the quilt-along were using different coloured chevrons on a solid back; I wanted to use white chevrons on a colour gradation background.

I'd had the majority of the very classy Alhambra II line sitting on my shelf waiting for a suitable project, so I dusted it off, added more blues and greens and set to work making all my HSTs.

I pressed all the blocks up on my design wall, colours gradating out from the centre spot, and really didn't like it.

I made them gradate across the quilt, then on the diagonal, and really didn't like it.

I had them gradating from a central line and really didn't like it.

(I'm sorry I didn't keep photos of all these outtakes - I know you guys like to see them. Sorry.)

I was starting to feel a little ill by then. I'd taken a lovely design and fantastic fabric and screwed them both up royally. I've wasted all this fabric, I've wasted all this time, don't you KNOW that blue and green should never be seen without something in between?

Step away from the quilt, Kirsty.

There was nothing for it but to get drunk, trash some cars and invest in some quality buttock tattoos.

I felt a lot better after that (although my bottom was a little sore) and realised one of the blue fabrics I'd added (not from the Alaham II line) was actually the wrong kind of blue and messed up my gradations. I also drew inspiration from Jennifer's pattern itself and laid out a new background in the form of one large gradating chevron. I liked it. Phew.

All laid out it was still a little over the top though - my busy background with the chasing chevrons was too much. I decided to face my chevrons all the same way and it made a big difference. I had to move some of the chevrons so they stood alone (otherwise they turn into zig-zags) but then it was done. Voila, Flocking Chevrons.

I wanted this snuggle-on-the-couch-watching-movies lap quilt to be very soft and drapey. I had a nice flannel sheet for the batting and spent hours online looking for a navy patterned flannel for the back.

No dice. Instead I ordered some Lotta Jansdotter Echo in Moira Navy and crossed my fingers it would be one of those nice soft quilting cottons (it is, beautiful fabric).

It wasn't quite wide enough so I pieced together long strips left over from the top to extend each edge.

I wanted to quilt in white on the front (so it wouldn't mess up my chevrons) and navy on the back. I couldn't get the tension right despite testing and many lines had to be unpicked. I gave up and used white cotton for both sides.

Then I realised that my machine was making some loose stitches - more unpicking, cleaned the machine, changed needle. More loose stitches, more unpicking - my machine did not like the flannel.



So I unbasted the whole thing, removed the flannel, re-basted with cotton batting. (On the bright side, I was then able to sort the tension so I could use white on top and navy underneath). I nearly cried with joy when the quilting was finished.

My simple quilting pattern echoed the chevron.

The binding was the only part that didn't cause me heartache. I pieced a scrappy binding, matching the binding colours to the quilt to create an 'invisible edge' kind of effect. For this reason I sewed my binding strips together on the perpendicular, rather than the diagonal. I was going to machine sew the binding but in the end decided to hand sew it down - I was in need of some zen by this stage!

So, it's done. A bit of a drama but I do think it's come up nicely and most importantly, it's very snuggle worthy. Thank you so much Jennifer for the pattern!

I could say the strongest swearword used during the making of this quilt was flocking, but I think we all know this is a lie.

Have a wonderful, wonderful weekend everyone. Flock on!

Stylish Blogger Award

I don't know why people give me this award - I am really a dork. And Sara Louise has met me, so she should know better!

Given that it's past 8pm here and I still need to get some sewing done (it's not all gardens and gynos, you know) I'm going to do a quick and dirty 10 points - on what's been going on the last two days.

1. The mister's gone to Paris for work for a few days. Why do the kids save all their bad nightmares for the nights when Daddy's away?

2. Why do 6 yr olds wriggle so much in their sleep?

3. I put my camera on the computer desk on Tue night, well out of the toddler's reach.

4. The strap was resting on a piece of paper, also on the desk.

5. The paper was in reach of the toddler. (Can you see where this is going...)

6. The toddler pulled the piece of paper, then found the camera strap in his reach. He grabbed said strap and the camera, with my big, heavy (expensive) lens fell to the floor. To add insult to injury, I was in the same room as him at the time.

Taken with the old point-and-shoot. 

7. Tue night was spent feeling like an idiot for leaving the camera indirectly within toddler reach. Then I thought about everything going on in Japan and told myself to get some perspective. I also found out that the camera should be covered under our world wide insurance policy. Phew.

8. I took the camera to the shop this morning. The fellow said it's only the filter that shattered and also absorbed most of the shock of the fall; the lens and camera should be fine. I'll find out tomorrow when I pick it up. People - BUY A FILTER FOR YOUR EXPENSIVE LENSES - it could save you a fortune!

9. This post really isn't very funny at all, but I figure you're all laughed out after hearing about the French adventures of my cervix. Thank you all for your comments, you made my week.

10. Happy 1st wedding anniversary Sara Louise!

To show I'm not the only mother who does dumb things, here is a picture of a cow we came across in Corsica last year feeding her baby in the road, on a blind corner.

There's hope for me yet.

Birthday Fabric and other Shenanigans

Thanks for the coffee mat and cushion love in my last post. I wish my house looked like that all the time, but with three kids photos involve moving much crap from one side of the room to the other and judicious post-processing cropping!

Another week of school holidays is coming to an end, kids back at school Monday. We have been keeping busy with tea parties.

And I've been busy sewing a back for my daughter's quilt and then basting it.

We've also had some fun with the gas company. They left a little note in our mail box one morning this week saying we had 48 hours to pay our bill or the gas would be cut off.

'Oh my stars*,' I said, as our bill had already been paid. After some ringing around it was determined that our bill had indeed been paid, much to my relief. At 4 o'clock that afternoon, they cut off our gas.

'Oh those cheeky bears* have cut our gas less than 8 hours after giving notice,' I said, 'even though we have paid our bill.' Some more ringing around ascertained that indeed the gas company knew the bill was paid and they'd cut the gas in error. They would send someone out in the morning to turn it back on.

No heating and no hot water for the night? In winter and after all three kids had had haircuts that morning (and needed a bath)? I think you can do better than that gas company.

The gas company said they could send someone out now to turn the gas on, the same gas they had cut off for no reason, however we would be charged an after-hours call out fee. 'Fiddlesticks*,' I said, 'send the fellow* out.'

Once the gas was reinstated at 7pm, the gas man could not get our heating unit to start again. After 15 mins he sheepishly admitted that cutting the gas had probably put air in the lines and caused a problem. If the unit didn't start tonight we would need to call out our heating repairman and have it seen to. This would cost us about 70€ ($100). You can probably imagine what I was thinking.

There was a happy ending. The heating unit did start after I messed around with it for a few minutes, and luckily the mister's work has a special 'Have You Been Done Over by French Bureaucracy' fund which paid for the call out fee. But I must say, I was astounded by what they think they can, and obviously do, get away with in terms of customer service. The French should really rise and revolt against that.

* I may or may not have used words somewhat stronger than these.

And on to some good bureaucratic news: France Post came through with two big and one little self-bought birthday parcels for me. Yay for birthday money (thanks Mum and Dad!)

Here are some gratuitous fabric shots:

What I'd really been coveting: Robert Kaufman's Metro Living. Still missing orange though. 

Some fun spring-ish colours, varying lines

Great neutrals and awesome dots. I accidentally ordered 1.5 yards of the herringbone, lucky it's so useful.

My pick of Patty Young's Sanctuary line.

Some local linen, which was proving elusive (finally found some, Diana!)

And lastly, I bought a Chrysalis charm pack and some yardage for backing/binding.

Now, I need your honest opinions.  I had originally looked at the butterflies and flowers and thought this would make a girl quilt. However, now that I have it in my hands and I see all the colours (chocolate brown, orange, dusty blue, olive green) I am thinking boy, if teamed with 'boy' solids.

What do you guys think - would this make a boy or a girl's quilt? Would you find it too weird to have butterflies on your little boy's baby mat? The whole line can be seen here at this Fabricworm link (where I bought my two yardage pieces), just click on the pic for a larger view.

Thanks for your input, you're all just so darned clever. Have a great weekend!

P.S. All fabric found at Fabricworm and Hawthorne Threads; charm pack from CottonThreadFabrics on Etsy.

Argg, another award.

I forgot to mention in my post earlier today that I was the recipient of a blog award from the lovely Christine over at Crafty Geordi.

And this is the award I have been bestowed: the Stylish Blogger Award.

Obviously Christine didn't see me here this morning, blogging in my faded old flanny pjs. I love the internet!

If you've read my blog for a while you'll know how I feel about blog awards. If not, have a read of this. That pretty much sums it up.

But I couldn't not answer the call because I think Christine is a fantastic lady. I actually found her blog after I read a comment of hers on another blog; she was complimenting that blog owner's rack. I knew we would get along like a house on fire, for when is complimenting another woman's rack ever inappropriate? Exactly.

So thank you Christine for finding me stylish, a myth I will happily perpetuate!

The Versatile, Whinging Blogger

I'm interrupting your usual weekend peace and quiet to fulfill my obligations as a 'Versatile Blogger Award' recipient.

Ta da:

I received this award from the lovely Aidan at Conjugating Irregular Verbs, who made me blush with her kind comments. I love Aidan's blog. She is very funny despite being American and is endearingly honest, which makes her blog such a fun read. This is my favourite post ever of hers.*

In celebration of Aidan's honesty, I am going to be brutally truthful in the listing of my seven facts, as per the Award's requirements. Please look away now if you have a fine or gentle constitution.

1. I hate these bloody award things. Blog awards, Change-Your-Facebook-Status-to-Say-This, forward this email to 30 people or a rogue owl will eat your young chain emails - I hate 'em all. But I do love Aidan, so I'm chugging a nice warm cup of quit-your-bellyaching and continuing on.

2. Living in France can be very, very difficult at times (as a for'ner). It's not like visiting, which is much more pleasant. I don't talk about it much because I'm trying to be a cup-half-full kinda person, and also because I doubt people want to hear me whinging about how hard it is to be living in the south of France. Kind of like when movie stars start complaining about how hard it is to be rich and famous and skinny.

But there have been more than a few occasions when I've wanted to do a Cartman:

3. I love to sleep in, and I'm a total cow in the morning until I have my coffee.

4. I have a real problem with people who don't wash their hands after they go to the toilet.

5. Even though it weirds the mister out, I like it when Frenchmen kiss each other hello. I think it's touching and love the way it flies in the face of traditional Western 'what is manly' philosophy.

6. A couple of years ago I wrote a complete romance novel. An editor asked to see the full manuscript, but it wasn't published. (No, it didn't contain any kissing Frenchmen. It wasn't one of those novels.)

7. I haven't got a seventh fact. Because of 1. above, and because I'm all out of things I think you'd find interesting.

I apologise now, I'm not going to pass this on to 15 other bloggers. But I don't think this will harm the spread of the award, which surely must be giving cholera a run for its money in the proliferation stakes.

Sorry about my whinging, although I'm feeling cathartically mellow now. I might go eat some goat's cheese and sniff my lavender pillow.

While I'm blogging, here were two pictures I missed in my Cassis post:

Loved the view at the end of this street. 

Fancy fan mosaic floors in the St Michel church. 

Hope you've all had a fabulous weekend and managed to fit in something just for you!


* I almost had a moment like Aidan's. The first time I filled the car on my own was after meeting the mister on a long bike ride - he was riding home and I brought the kids back in the car. We stopped at an isolated rural service station, not a house in sight. It was closed but you could still use the pumps with a credit card.

Now, I knew our car took diesel. This point had been made to me many times, as the wife of a conscientious mister. The little sticker above the tank says diesel. Could I find a handle labelled diesel? No, I could not. I found, plomb and sans plomb, which I knew were leaded and unleaded petrol, but no diesel. There was one labelled gazoil. What is this gazoil?  Looked up dictionary, no gazoil. Went to call the mister, then remembered he was on the bike. Plus using cell phones at a gas station is a no-no. By elimination I was pretty sure gazoil was diesel, but that little niggly doubt had me worried.

Then a fellow drove in on his motorbike. A huge, black leather-wearing motorbike rider.  As a woman alone at a deserted service station with her three small children I immediately assumed him to be a rapist, which greatly helped my level of anxiety. After a few deep breaths I decided to just go over (not getting too close) and ask if gazoil was diesel. I was just about to do this when the bike rider stuck the pump in his petrol tank, leaned back against his bike and lit a cigarette.

This greatly crystallised my thought process. I quickly filled up with gazoil and got the flock out of there. When I got home I googled gazoil and found out that it was indeed diesel, which I'd already guessed seeing as we'd made it home without a single engine wheeze. I also checked a French news website to see if any explosions at rural petrol stations had been reported, but it seems the leather-clad smoking rapist got away safe and sound.

Wow, is this the longest footnote ever?