My handkerchief quilt method has been a favorite for many people for a long time,
The sequel, Hanky Panky with a Flourish, has been in process for a few years now. I had hoped to finish it off this summer...but clearing out the house and moving has to come first. It will give the original method, but several new ones, as well. Some patterns are for my more nervous students -- you don't have to cut the handkerchiefs.
Some weeks back, I taught an HP class at Holly's Quilt Cabin in Littleton, CO. Here are some of my students' work, in progress. Didn't they turn out great!
Carol used a largely-blue palette very effectively, even including some commercial appliqued guest towels. She mixed smaller and larger scale motifs, as weell as specialty edges, sometimes by layering them.
Sandy had two interesting "big boys" (larger-scale prints) to work with. Careful positioning lets them shine, without overpowering the piece.
Here she is, in the flesh. Nice job, Sandy!
Karen takes a more minimalistic approach, with gray quietening down the yellow and green touches. Note the two crocheted-edge butterfly hankies.
Here's Karen, by the way...
Kris's version...that's a photo-transfer in the middle, copied from an old tradecard.
Here's what she started with, using a Hanky Panky kit. (We sell these in a wide range of colors & patterns on the Brickworks site.)
And just for fun -- The Mama's bandanna Hanky Panky. This version's even faster to make, because bandannas are BIG. The center 'running horses' was cut from a preprint pillow design.
Thank you, students. You did a terrific job!
What's life without a little Hanky Panky to liven it up...
A finished Hanky Panky, from another student, Cindy Thomas. Beautiful.
Apparently I am not the only one struggling with the general loss of good manners today...because a LOT of readers have been weighing in on myR-E-S-P-E-C-T post, both on comments here, Facebook there, and e-mail from everywhere.
I guess I struck a sympathetic nerve.
Thank you, everyone. If we can respond with courtesy and dignity, even when we're not treated to it in return...
If you read my posts for news on antiques, frugal stuff and Bigfoot... you might want to gently close this and tiptoe away.
I am about to rant.
I am 58 years old. The Brick is 62. (There, now you know.) The Brick and I, in spite of some difficult times, have a paid-off house and no debts. (Until we borrowed for the trailer, that is.) We pay our bills -- period. This is largely due to God's grace...and a lot of finagling. We have 401Ks and a savings account. We would be considered reasonably successful in this area, I think.
The Brick has decades of experience in not one, but THREE careers: the Navy, as a mechanical engineer (a registered P.E. too, no less, which he still is), and a bus driver/trainer/IT man in transportation for public schools. He has spent decades of work in music, just for his own pleasure and our church Worship Team. (In fact, the guy is brilliant in arranging music, changing keys and combining songs -- something I hope he does more of, after we get the house on the market.) He can fix practically everything, using little more than spit and a few pieces of wire. I married a very clever, intelligent man. Suffice it to say: I am a lucky woman.
Here he is, with our darling daughters. Yes, hunting.
My own work has been more focused. I've always been a writer, not only for newspapers and magazines, but on the Internet, as a long-time blogger. (Since 2007 -- seven years, how can that be?!) I've been a paid staffer for several other blogs. I've written six books (working on #7, #8 and #9 when I can) and hundreds of articles, on subjects as varied as collecting silver to dealing with friends who Get Up Too Early. (That's for you, Jo and Chris.)
I am also known as a teacher, judge and lecturer in the quilting and craft field. Encyclopaedia Britannica's quilt entries (except for 'redwork') were written by yours truly. I've done venues all over the country -- ever since 1984. Do the math.
My third career is as a personal property appraiser. (I can't let the Brick be the one who does more than one thing!) I've been certified by AQS, the American Quilter's Society (with a few months break) since 1999, and nearly done with certification by the American Society of Appraisers (ASA), a much larger group that contains both personal property and real estate.
I appraise anything and everything but houses and cars -- I've done this now for more than a decade, and more than two decades for textiles and related items. I don't think that I am God's Gift to the World. But I'm no dummy, either.
I'm not bragging about these accomplishments, for either of us. I'm just saying them. Because they're true.
So why is it that...
Several times in past weeks, both of us have had sessions where we're being condescended to, yelled at, lectured, or treated as if we're either idiots -- or kindergartners.
Why are our memories -- clear ones, and yes, we were both there -- dismissed as unimportant (at best) or outright lies (at worst)?
Why is our experience disregarded as irrelevant? ('Of course, you would have no idea about this.' Said or implied in a high and lofty tone.)
Now that the Brick was able to retire -- does that mean we 'don't work,' or don't understand the 9-to-5 world anymore? (In fact, I would say we work harder than ever, especially right now.) Are you allowed to have a different opinion without being ridiculed, dressed down or lectured to?
Isn't it possible to hold that differing opinion without being told you're evil, or just too stupid to know better? (Trump-haters, take special note here.)
I can understand some of the rudeness and hateful remarks for where they're coming from: frustration, envy and dislike of the situation they currently find themselves in. (Or even because it's been so dingdang hot.) But in nearly every case:
They were angry about something else. This had little or nothing to do with us personally. We were just convenient. It was a way to punish us for disagreeing with them in the past -- days, months, weeks or years ago. Why were we the targets? In part, I think, because they knew we would not fight back. For one thing, this behavior is wrong. For another, it's ridiculous. Many of the circumstances started with something that seemed pretty trivial to begin with, and got blown up totally out of proportion.
And finally, Where does respect come into play?
Haven't we done enough, and accomplished enough, to deserve at least a little of it? If I am doing my best to treat you with respect...don't I deserve some, too?
I am trying hard not to blow up and respond in kind. (In fact, this post is part of that. I have GOT to get this out of my system.) But it's getting more and more difficult.
Okay. Rant over.
The next post will be on some of the beautiful Hanky Panky pieces my students did some weeks ago. I feel better, already. Thanks for listening.
A twenty cent piece sold for more than $88,000 recently. Oops, forgot to mention it was an 1876 twenty-cent piece, considered one of the rarest examples of its kind in the world. This minting was never that popular, so eventually many of the coins were gathered and melted down. Of the few extant survivors, this one is in excellent condition.
Heritage Auctions just finished up a July auction of rare coins in Orlando, Florida. The sale was held in tandem with the summer convention of Florida United Numismatists. (In other words, coin-lovers and collectors.) Total prices, including a 17 1/2% buyers premiums, realized nearly $6 million.
That's a lot of twenty-cent combinations.
You may collect Morgan dollars. We do, when we find them at the right price. At the same auction, an 1893-S Morgan dollar sold for $38,796.15. The date is the key. Heritage Auctions said: "...a high quality choice AU coin like this piece is not out of place in an otherwise Mint State Set."
Saw our third Colorado Shakespeare Festival play Friday night: Julius Caesar. After the teenage slumber party that was Hamlet, we didn't know what to expect -- but it was ok. I kept thinking how much of a GUY play it was: lots of swaggering, sword-smacking, bragging, marching, swashing and buckling... Then, at the intermission, two people with earphones came out and mopped up the stage. I kept hoping for Carol Burnett's cleaning lady to show up, instead.
It was necessary, because -- Boy, that Julius bleeds a LOT. (He also has an ego the size of Detroit.) Ironically, no one in the second half bled at all. A lot of people died; maybe they were good coagulaters? I enjoyed the text, too, particularly this quote from His Nibs:
"He thinks too much...
He reads too much...
Such men are dangerous."
You got it, Buddy! This past week has been blazing. Even the dogs are eager to stay inside. The grass is crunchy brown, and I have to water daily to keep the heat-loving petunias alive. Things cool off (sort of) by late afternoon, so at least we can sleep at night. Again, sort of. People get a touch crabby and distracted in this kind of weather. I just wish it would rain.
