What's on my sewing table right now (Quilt studio diary)
Now, let’s see if I can come up with enough to say about the photos of 9-patches that I plan to share today. Ever since I finished the quilted Rumba bag and bound and finished the Maxim quilt, I've been able to focus on that project wholeheartedly.
I've been working my way through my many containers of leftover fabric pieces (they hold resource pieces, not scraps) and pulling out everything that's large enough to yield at least one 2" square. Quite often I find pieces large enough for me to cut three squares but not four. Why is that? It’s so inconvenient because I need two sets of four squares for each block.
Or alternatively, just one square because every 9-patch gets either a dark or a light centre square, and it's never of the same fabric as the other squares in that block. Around the centre I sew four lighter and four darker squares.
9-patches usually turn out looking rather nice, especially after I’ve pressed the block. I avoid making ugly ones, even though some of them inevitably include fabrics that are, well... less than beautiful. But these six finished blocks, for example, don't contain a single fabric I'd call ugly:
My process goes like this. First I pair four lighter squares and four darker squares. I pick a light centre square for every other pair, a darker centre square for the others. The centre squares go on top of the pairs, and the result is a little stack. You can see them on the left in this photo:
I lay out two blocks on the table, making sure all the prints are facing the right way. This is necessary because I mostly work with printed fabrics, and surprisingly many of them have a directional design. Once everything looks right, I sew the pieces into blocks.
I usually sew all of my prepared piles into blocks more or less in one go. Well — not necessarily in one sitting! Once the blocks are all sewn, I head over to the ironing board and press them.
Sometimes I'll arrange nine blocks into a square and take a photo, like this one:
That batch didn't contain a single ugly fabric either. What do you know?!.
Yesterday morning, two more blocks were waiting on my sewing table, already laid out, and there was another batch of carefully curated combinations there too. Underneath them you can see a few ancient blocks that I've decided to turn into something... eventually.
You can also see my lovely sewing machine in the photo. If you're wondering why I don't have the extension table attached, here are my three reasons for that.
First, although the extension fits neatly around the free arm, its front edge doesn't sit perfectly flush with the machine bed. Instead, it sits just a little higher, which means that the actual sewing area is like one tiny step lower. Since most of my sewing involves joining small pieces of fabric together, I really don't like that small step between the needle plate and the extension table. It's a tiny step but it's there. Bothersome.
The second reason is that the extension casts a shadow over the table underneath. I don't have any extra table space to the left of my machine, so if I use the extension, I lose the space where I like to lay out my pieces. It's awkward enough as it is, and during the darker months I can't even see properly into that shadow when my work light is shining from above.
The third reason is simply that, every now and then, one does have to change the bobbin – even a giant one like the one in my sewing machine. That's rather less convenient to reach underneath the extension table.
I wonder if I'm the only one who feels like this about the extension table..? It's supposed to help the sewing process, but unless I'm machine quilting a surface, it's not helping.
Anyway, moving on.
The next few photos show some blocks I made yesterday and today. This batch of nine blocks does include one fabric that I'm rather less fond of:
It's the centre block in the right-hand column. It’s a rose print that dates back to the mid-1990s. At the time I thought it was absolutely lovely and used some in a cute little hat for my young daughter. The leftover fabric has gradually turned into so last season while in storage. There's nothing actually wrong with the print, but it just doesn't charm me the way it did when it was new.
Oh look: this next group also contains one fabric I'm not particularly keen on:
Again, it's the middle block in the right-hand column. The darker corner squares are cut from an elephant print that's proven surprisingly difficult to use to advantage.
In fact, the centre square in that same block is also of a less favourite fabric. It's a childish print, also from the late 1990s, and the background is of a sort of dark peach colour that I don't much like.
This next batch of blocks ended up looking rather blue by chance. No ugly fabrics in this one either:
Looking at the next photo, I can't spot any ugly or even awkward fabrics there. That made me wonder whether I simply buy fabrics I genuinely like — or perhaps I never even cut into the ones I don't. I'm not especially discerning about the fabrics I buy – I'm more of an at-a-whim buyer – but I do dislike muted colours. Still, I own a fair number of fabrics like that. (Where on earth did I get them, and when?)
The middle block in the bottom row looks a little more dramatic than the others. That fabric also dates back to the 1990s. I must have bought ridiculous quantities of every fabric back then, because I'm still sewing with those fabrics today. I made my husband a short-sleeved shirt from this one. Perhaps I should have made it long-sleeved—I might not have leftover fabric now, almost thirty years later!
No ugly fabrics in this last batch either. And really, that's a very good thing. It means I don't have to compose my blocks with my eyes closed to avoid looking at anything dreadful.
So that's what was happening in my sewing corner today. What have you been keeping yourselves busy with? Do you do any quilting at this time of year, whether it's summer or winter where you are?
One last thing. Unlike my earlier posts this year, I wrote this one in my native language Finnish first and then translated it. It’s not difficult for me to write in English, but it’s strange that I can't write in the same unrestrained way or in quite the same voice. Could that be because I write professionally, and almost always in English, where the style is expected to be clear, factual and businesslike?
I've been working my way through my many containers of leftover fabric pieces (they hold resource pieces, not scraps) and pulling out everything that's large enough to yield at least one 2" square. Quite often I find pieces large enough for me to cut three squares but not four. Why is that? It’s so inconvenient because I need two sets of four squares for each block.
Or alternatively, just one square because every 9-patch gets either a dark or a light centre square, and it's never of the same fabric as the other squares in that block. Around the centre I sew four lighter and four darker squares.
9-patches usually turn out looking rather nice, especially after I’ve pressed the block. I avoid making ugly ones, even though some of them inevitably include fabrics that are, well... less than beautiful. But these six finished blocks, for example, don't contain a single fabric I'd call ugly:
I usually sew all of my prepared piles into blocks more or less in one go. Well — not necessarily in one sitting! Once the blocks are all sewn, I head over to the ironing board and press them.
Sometimes I'll arrange nine blocks into a square and take a photo, like this one:
Yesterday morning, two more blocks were waiting on my sewing table, already laid out, and there was another batch of carefully curated combinations there too. Underneath them you can see a few ancient blocks that I've decided to turn into something... eventually.
First, although the extension fits neatly around the free arm, its front edge doesn't sit perfectly flush with the machine bed. Instead, it sits just a little higher, which means that the actual sewing area is like one tiny step lower. Since most of my sewing involves joining small pieces of fabric together, I really don't like that small step between the needle plate and the extension table. It's a tiny step but it's there. Bothersome.
The second reason is that the extension casts a shadow over the table underneath. I don't have any extra table space to the left of my machine, so if I use the extension, I lose the space where I like to lay out my pieces. It's awkward enough as it is, and during the darker months I can't even see properly into that shadow when my work light is shining from above.
The third reason is simply that, every now and then, one does have to change the bobbin – even a giant one like the one in my sewing machine. That's rather less convenient to reach underneath the extension table.
I wonder if I'm the only one who feels like this about the extension table..? It's supposed to help the sewing process, but unless I'm machine quilting a surface, it's not helping.
Anyway, moving on.
The next few photos show some blocks I made yesterday and today. This batch of nine blocks does include one fabric that I'm rather less fond of:
Oh look: this next group also contains one fabric I'm not particularly keen on:
In fact, the centre square in that same block is also of a less favourite fabric. It's a childish print, also from the late 1990s, and the background is of a sort of dark peach colour that I don't much like.
This next batch of blocks ended up looking rather blue by chance. No ugly fabrics in this one either:
The middle block in the bottom row looks a little more dramatic than the others. That fabric also dates back to the 1990s. I must have bought ridiculous quantities of every fabric back then, because I'm still sewing with those fabrics today. I made my husband a short-sleeved shirt from this one. Perhaps I should have made it long-sleeved—I might not have leftover fabric now, almost thirty years later!
One last thing. Unlike my earlier posts this year, I wrote this one in my native language Finnish first and then translated it. It’s not difficult for me to write in English, but it’s strange that I can't write in the same unrestrained way or in quite the same voice. Could that be because I write professionally, and almost always in English, where the style is expected to be clear, factual and businesslike?
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