All Saint's Eve

Tomorrow is the day our culture forgets to celebrate.
November First, All Saints Day.
The day of the hallowed and holy.



Would it be asking too much to forgo the celebration of evil and terror this year? Would it be impossible for our country, our neighborhood, our church, to not join in the pagan revelry of All Hallow's Eve? I am disappointed and shocked to hear members of my church referring to Halloween as their "favorite time of year." Not the autumn with it's leaves and bonfires, pumpkins and cider....

specifically Halloween:
With it's devils and demons, ghosts and witches.
With it's evil and sorcery and desperate bleakness of the soul.

specifically Halloween:
The night given over to darkness.
The frantic time of fears, greedy begging, and mean pranks.

specifically Halloween:
The Black Sabbath.
The opposite -- OPPOSITE !-- of everything a Christian should celebrate and rejoice in.

As Christians , if we want to take our children door to door in our neighborhood, any night of the year, shouldn't it be as witnesses to the glorious message of Christ and Salvation?I think it should. Why, then, do we offer them to the world as examples of a pagan faith instead?

Building Blocks: Snowball Bonus Block

Here's my easy method of making Snowball blocks and Half Square Triangles at the same time.
I begin with one large square (this one was 9 1/2 inch) and four small squares (these were 4 inch). The four small squares are marked with a diagonal line from tip to tip as you can see in this picture:

Of course, you only sew them on one at at time. So take one small square and match its unmarked corner to the corner of the large square. You may want to pin it in place; I don't but I'm a bit careless about things like that.

The diagonal line (which now runs across the corner of the large square) is your seam guide. Run you quarter inch foot along the line, so that your seam is a quarter inch from that line. Do that on BOTH sides of the line.

Once you have done this on all four corners (and used all four squares) you will cut along the marked lines.

Press the large square open and it's the snowball block (it will need to be trimmed a bit) and press cut off corners open for four HSTs.

It's *Snowing* Again

Texture for Tuesday

Blue Spruce Branches

Blue and Green and Gold

That fabric across the top has a great colour combo, with sage/olive green stems and mustard gold flowers framed in creamy tan, against a rich blue ground. As you can see, I've pulled out several greens and a gold to match, and added a blue and green "eyeball" stripe, a blue and gold on tan print and a fun blue and green on tan print that reminds me of peapods (on the far right).
These will blend together in a simple scrappy squares quilt -- accomplishing two purposes at once.

1. Test the yardage/measurements/math on another quilt kit pattern.
2. Make a quilt for my sister. She loves the simpler designs and when she saw the one I was drafting she casually mentioned how good it would look with little tufts (tied), which is her way of hinting that she wants me to make one for her.

Color Theory and Balance

The values in this photo are nearly opposite, notice how the high contrast between the dark of the evergreens and the light of the backlit fall leaves is emphasized and echoed by the dark streaks of tree trunks and branches. The asymmetry of the photo still holds appeal because the large dark tree is echoed by the smaller dark tree and the light leaves are anchored by dark trunks. When making a modern quilt remember that interspersing your color values in a balanced way will give you a harmonious whole.

Mist

Behold, God is great, and we know him not;
the number of his years is unsearchable.
For he draws up the drops of water;
they distill his mist in rain,
which the skies pour down
and drop on mankind abundantly.

~Job 36: 26-28

My view may be a bit different, this photo was snapped along the Blue Ridge during my last trip, but the weather this morning is this same foggy shade of drizzle. It is a morning made for mugs of tea and wooly socks and small furry dogs warming your lap while you type with one hand. This is Novemberish weather, snuggle down and stay cozy weather, go for a walk with the wind in your face and feel alive even as everything around you proclaims the cessation of summer weather.

As I stare out the window and warm my hands on my mug of tea, it seems to me that we are like the mists, here for a while and then the seasons change and we are gone. Do we water the land? Do we hug the mountains and rest amid His creation? Do we feel gratitude for every moment we are given -- even the rainy days? Or do we scatter, frenetic and fast-paced, seeking over hill and vale for the next thing to occupy us? Do we plan tomorrow at the expense of what the Lord would have us do today?

Come now, you who say,"Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit"— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, "If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that." ~ James 4:13-15

Peek at the Projects

One of the designs I've created for the kits I'm calling Counting House. It uses blocks of various quilting "coins" an idea inspired by the nursery rhyme phrase "The King was in the counting house, counting out his money..."
As the quilts are meant to be easy (or beginner) the most complicated blocks in the whole thing are the Coin of the Orient block -- shown above. As you can see I'm using a pallet of red and green and white for the sample I'm doing up.

Hayrides

Allow me my opinion on this:

I do not believe -- although technically, we were riding on bales of hay -- that I went on a hayride Saturday night. Ideally, hayrides should be loose hay piled on an old wooden wagon pulled by horses and traverse unbroken expanses of farm and field, orchard and woodlot, maybe cross a stream at a ford or old bridge. Followed by bonfires and hot apple cider, perhaps a taffy-pull.

I didn't actually expect that.

I expected a modern hayride. Something along the lines of a farm tractor belching smoke towards bales of hay in a metal wagon as we bumped around the fencelines of some fallowing fields. Followed by a bonfire and some form of "church food" which I don't eat.

Well, I got the metal wagon and the baled hay correct. However, the mechanism pulling our hayride, was a maroon pick-up truck. And as we sped along paved roads, through town, past trailers and trees... okay, and over a covered bridge, I couldn't help thinking how different this was from the image and expectations conjured by the word "hayride."

It also occurred to me that we were probably violating more than a dozen road safety ordinances; and parents who wouldn't dream of driving those same roads without strapping their child into a carseat were smiling as those same children stood in the haywagon. I do not understand the inconsistencies of my own generation.

And not to winge on about this (because we did have a lovely bonfire afterwards, complete with cold cider and roasting marshmallows) but I still do not understand why merely sitting on hay as it whizzes about town merits the evocative title Hayride. It's just not right.

Texture for Tuesday

But first a bad joke:
Two mushrooms were sitting in a dance club, no one wanted to dance with them. In fact not one of the girls there would speak to them. The one mushroom turns to the other and says, "I don't know why no one wants to party with us, we're such fun-guys."






The undersides of mushrooms ruffle with something called gills. Mushroom gills, when a mushroom is ripe, open to release thousands (millions?) of spores. Spore are the fungi equivalent of seeds.

Dill

Actually, that's a picture of a carrot flower, but dill is a relative with extremely similar flowers and seeds. Except that, in my opinion, dill seeds make better tea than carrot seeds.

The family Umbelliferae, defined as "plants having flowers in umbels: parsley; carrot; anise; caraway; celery; dill," contains both food plants, herbals, and poisonous weeds (poison and water hemlocks, for example).

Under the umbrella *wink* of the Umbellirerae are many plants:
There's a genus Seseli which is supposedly something called "moon carrots." I know nothing about them other than that they have an intreguing name; the genus Daucus provides our carrots.

Other genuses are also useful, Pastinaca includes parsnips. Apium is celery. Carum gives us caraway; and predictably Cuminum is cumin. The genus Petroselinum covers the parsleys. Pimpinella is, strangely, anise; and Anethum is dill -- which I am having this morning.

Dill is a useful herb for settling an upset stomach. As an herbal infusion, or tea (I take mine sweetened) it is very pleasant. Not at all like dill pickles -- which is what you were thinking, right? Dill pickles are good too, but, no, I don't take vinegar in my tea. Vinegar is an aide to digestion and combined with dill does make an excellent addition to the diet, but that's a topic for a different post.

For the Five People Wondering If I Went Away Again

You don't want the long list of everything that's been happening here, and you most certainly don't want me to ramble on about it all. No really, trust me, it'd bore you silly. Suffice it to say I've been occupied. Oh, and I haven't abandoned the Sampler (Bird) Blocks -- I just haven't had time to work on them -- we'll get back to them, I promise.


I will share one of the things that's been keeping me so busy:

Those quilt tops I was asked to design -- they're to be original patterns for kits (for a local fabric store) and they need to take exactly six yards to make a full sized quilt top. Using 1 yard each from 6 different fabrics. So, I'm in math mode. Yardages, seam allowances, cutting sizes and finished sizes, selvage edges, math, math, math... my words want to come out in inches and decimal points.

Would you like a sneak peek at one of the designs I'm working on?
I'm working on a scrappy-style quilt top 70" x 80" called Thief in the Night.
Here is a section of it, in grayscale.


My computer graphic design skills leave something to be desired, but once I have the pattern roughed-out and calculated I can do up a sample from fabrics. I'd rather fiddle with pixels than cut into my fabric stash with no good reason.


So that's the stage I'm at now. I have three patterns drafted, calculated, and computer "sketched" so Monday I'll begin cutting and sewing the samples.

My Favorite Quilt Book

I've recently been asked to design a couple patterns for quilt tops and although I always have plenty of ideas, getting down to the exact yardage requirements takes some calculating.

So once again I am turning to my trusty favorite quilt book, the same book I find myself recommending over and over to new quilters interested in learning how to design their own quilts: The Art of Classic Quiltmaking by Harriet Hargrave and Sharyn Craig.

Amazon still has it if you want one of your own.

Texture for Tuesday

Rusting roofing and a rust stained rock (quartz).

There is a Balm in Gilliad

I have paid careful attention.
They do not speak what is right.
No one regrets his evil,
asking: What have I done?
Everyone has stayed his course
like a horse rushing into battle.

Even the stork in the sky
knows her seasons.
The turtledove, swallow, and crane
are aware of their migration,
but My people do not know
the requirements of the LORD.

They have treated superficially the brokenness
of My dear people,
claiming: Peace, peace,
when there is no peace.

Were they ashamed when they acted so abhorrently?
They weren't at all ashamed.
They can no longer feel humiliation.
Therefore, they will fall among the fallen.
When I punish them, they will collapse,
says the LORD.

Harvest has passed, summer has ended,
but we have not been saved.

I am broken by the brokenness
of my dear people.
I mourn; horror has taken hold of me.

Is there no balm in Gilead?
Is there no physician there?
So why has the healing of my dear people
not come about?

Jeremiah 8: 6-7, 11-12, 20-22

D.I.Y. Canadian Flag -- Photoshop

And Then...

The beautiful weather hid behind fog and rain for most of the week. I am a fan of foggy mountains and misty rains so I was not overly perturbed. However, I did want to take some more pictures I got very few the first (and only sunny) day.

And then, on the last day, the sun came out again...

And then I saw some butterflies...


And then the batteries on my cammera ran out.

Colorful Shortcuts

On the Blue Ridge Parkway the trees are turning lovely deep shades of rain-soaked reds and yellows. I took a "shortcut" on the way home from my conference. The mileage actually is shorter, but you're right if you're thinking it really doesn't save time to go that way. Still, there is something to be said for getting off the highways for a little while and taking the scenic route.

October in the Mountains Retreat

Sunday afternoon sunny mountain views abounded, but I was too excited to take more than a few pictures. After all, I had checked the area forecasts before I left home and it was to be clear and sunny all week. At first that seemed to hold true.

That's Mountain Laurel where we stayed. After I arrived I went to my room, unpacked, went to dinner, then the welcome session. Why yes, I believe I did stay up 'till 2 am talking with other writers. The next night as well -- there was so much to learn and absorb, so many good friends to be made. And when I woke Tuesday morning: FOG. The views for the rest of the week looked much like this:
You can't tell, but there are mountains behind that grey stuff. It rained, and rained, and rained... The playground equipment began to look inviting.

There are so many things I have done wrong with my first novel -- ack! so many re-writes to do -- but I am so glad to know where and how to improve my work. I never did get around to posting live from the conference, although I did have wireless access the whole time, I was just too busy learning and enjoying the experience. Oh well... maybe next time.

Jeremiah 20:9

But if I say, I will not mention Him

or speak any more in His name,

His word is in my heart like a fire,

a fire shut up in my bones.

I am weary of holding it in;

indeed, I cannot.

~

A Living Faith

Faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.

~James 2:17 (ESV)

For many years I attended a church that strongly emphasised "being good." Everyone said doing good works gets you into heaven. Doing good works won't get anyone to heaven. It doesn't work that way, no matter how good we are, we can never be good enough. We simply cannot make ourselves sinless. Salvation is through Christ alone. His Work (not our own) saves us. So how does that mesh with what James says in this verse?

Here's what I think. I think James meant that when we have faith in the Savior we begin to want to be more like Him. Our faith encourages us to do good works, to try to be a better person, and to speak, think, and act more the way Jesus would. We have a living God, and we show it with a living faith. An active, lively, jumping around, shout with joy, change our lives faith.

If we believe something we act on it. If I believe it's raining I put on a raincoat, or open my umbrella, or run to get inside before I get wet (when I haven't got an umbrella and raincoat with me). I suppose I could believe it was raining and just stand there doing nothing, but then I'd just be a sopping wet idiot standing in the rain.

And I say again, If we believe something we act on it

If our faith doesn't make us want to act on it, if our faith doesn't show in our behavior, if our faith isn't making us work -- that's dead faith.

Quote of the Week

"No one should write a book God wouldn't want to read..."

~ Rose Arbuthnot, Enchanted April

Random Old Photos I've Taken

Jeirpoint Abbey, in Ireland

Orchids, at Longwood Gardens

Baby Mourning Dove, on Local Sidewalk

Above the Salt Springs

In Northern Pennsylvania there is a small state park known as Salt Springs. The spring itself is rather unremarkable, something of a denouement really, but the water is salty. This is the spring:

The real appeal of the park is the old growth hemlock forest perching on the cliff-like side of the mountain behind the spring. There is a stillness there, and a certain feeling in the air. Ancientness, endurance, an abiding.

The creviced rocks, lined with pennies, slowly absorb into themselves the evidence of humanity's passage here. [Click on photo to enlarge it and see the pennies melting into it.]

and the boardwalk trail winds on

offering glimpses of the river carving its own way deeper into the earth below.I scrambled off the trail at one point, descending a steep foot path to sit on a rock and watch the water pour itself out over the rocks. To listen in the stillness. Silence is filled with so many sounds we never take the time to hear.
When the paths diverged in this yellow hemlock wood, I sat again, to contemplate the path that I would take. It seemed expected, forseen, anticipated. Someone knew I would want to sit and be still, to pause and ponder, to listen and hear.

Then, guided by the words carved in the stone, I found the right trail went home again.