arkansew

Ice Terror

2009-01-27T10:43:00.000-08:00

I am huddled in my living room listening to the terrifying sounds of trees breaking apart and falling. First you hear a sort of a groaning sound, then a shudder and a rustle, and finally a crack and a crashing sound as the final break occurs and the branch hits the ground. I haven't heard these sounds since the apocalyptic ice storm of December 2000.

Here's a photo of one of the early breaks:

The breaks and crashes have started occurring with alarming frequency. I heard a crash out front, opened the front door to survey the damage, saw a huge branch fall from the top of a silver maple, saw another one across the street, then saw yet another branch break off and fall from my tree.

I'm out of here -- the power is flickering on and off.

The Little Rock Nine

2008-11-05T08:31:00.000-08:00

I'm old enough to remember the poll tax. I'm a native of Little Rock, Arkansas where our governor prevented nine black children from entering Central High School in the fall of 1957. I watched the 101st airborne convoy roll into Little Rock while I was stuck in a traffic jam with my mother and sister. Eisenhower sent an entire military division to protect nine brave teenagers and maintain order as desegregation of the public schools got off to a violent start.

More even than the cold war, racism was the defining issue of my youth. It was a time of great upheaval as the ways of the past gave way to the new. Roe v. Wade hadn't happened yet. Brown vs. the Board of Education had.

It was that day in Little Rock, the day that nine children were turned away, that I thought of when I cast my vote for Barack Obama yesterday. I've voted in many presidential elections, but I never felt prouder than I did yesterday.

I can't seem to stop smiling.

Behold the Dragon

2008-10-10T08:52:00.000-07:00

Hot off the sewing machine,
Kwik Sew 3099:

My almost 11 month old grandson will impersonate a dragon for both Halloween and Mardi Gras. He's a long, lanky baby, so to ensure he will still be able to wear the costume next March, I made it a size two in length (for a 33-inch child) and a 12 month size in circumference. He was thirty inches long a month ago, so hopefully this length will fit him for a while.

I got my inspiration from the darling costumes that Ann Smith made for her two grandsons.

Since DGS lives in New Orleans, I opted for a cooler interlock knit for the body of the suit, with fleece for the spikes and claws. Naturally, I used Mardi Gras colors too.

James is diligently practicing his dragon noises to get ready for the four Halloween events he will be attending. As for Mardi Gras, James will be the dragon, his mom will be the damsel in distress, and his dad will be the knight in shining armor.

Sewing again

2008-10-01T03:35:00.000-07:00

On Monday I noticed that the deadline for the PatternReview grocery bag contest was Tuesday. Not only do I need some reusable grocery bags, but an enthusiastically "green" friend has also nagged me recently to make some. Well, there's nothing like a looming deadline to get me fired up.

Luckily, I had plenty of stash for this. I used oxford cloth and blue cotton broadcloth purchased for projects long forgotten. I drafted small and large singlet style bag patterns and whipped out three of them, each one an improvement over its predecessor. Here's my review of the bags on PatternReview:

Singlet style grocery bags.

The bags are based on a plastic Wal-Mart bag. Here's a picture of all three bags:

These were fun to make and had an added bonus of stash reduction. Now I'm ready to try some other styles.

The Death of Nancy Anderson Cypert

2008-09-27T10:11:00.000-07:00

Well, I haven't been sewing enough to keep a sewing blog alive. So today, I'll post about another hobby I sometimes dabble in: genealogy.

Since my father took up genealogy in the eighties, I’ve run across this story of my great-great-great grandmother’s tragic death many times, first in my father's massive genealogy files (which I inherited), now on the Internet as well.

This story of the death of Nancy Anderson Cypert was told by Nancy’s grandson John William Cypert to his daughter-in- law in the summer of 1925. I’ve modified the story a bit to make it more readable, but otherwise left it alone.

During the Civil War, there were many brave acts committed by those left at home. Bravery was not limited to those who wore a uniform.

This is the story of a brave woman who cared more for her family's life than her own, a story her descendants will never let die.

During the years of the Civil War there were many bands of bushwhackers (guerrillas) who roamed the countryside looking for victims to rob and pillage. When they found a likely victim, they changed to Confederate or Union uniforms, depending on which side the victim was perceived to be on. Often they knew the victim, so generally, they left no survivors to identify them. Though bushwhackers were commonly thought to be starving Confederates, history tells us that both sides had these types of gangsters. Many were deserters.

At the time of his mother's death on March 4, 1860, when he was just two years old, John William Cypert went to live with his grandfather and grandmother, John and Nancy Anderson Cypert in Searcy County, Arkansas near the town of Marshall.

Two years later when he was barely four years old, John William witnessed the death of his grandmother, Nancy Anderson Cypert, while he lay hidden in a manger, in a barn or nearby shed.

Nancy Anderson Cypert was tortured, murdered, and burned in Searcy Co., Arkansas during the Civil War in 1862. She was killed by bushwhackers wearing the uniform of the Union Soldiers.

Food was very scarce in this southern community at that time. These men usually put on gray uniforms in Confederate territory and blue uniforms while in Union territory to fool their own people. It didn't matter to them. They were not serving any cause. On that day they put on Union uniforms.

When his grandmother saw the "bushwhackers" coming, she told the four-year-old John William to run and hide in the manger, or shed. It might have been an empty barn and not too far away, but far enough. He said, "he run and hid".

From his hiding place, John William saw the men torture his grandmother by pulling out her fingernails with bullet molds. They did this to make her tell where her money was hidden, or perhaps to get information.
So when they had tortured Nancy, then killed her, they robbed the house of all the food and things that they could use. Then they burned the house down with Nancy Anderson Cypert inside.

This is what the storyteller’s daughter-in-law (Dorthy Teters Cypert) said about him as he finished the story:

“His faded blue eyes grew misty with tears, as he related to me, the story, by memory, from out of long ago. How a small boy, of about four, watched in horror and trembling with fear, as they tortured and killed the only "mother" he had ever known. His voice then rose in anger as he mentioned the "Boys in Blue" and he had little respect for the "Northern Gentlemen". What he called them that day I cannot repeat, but could I blame him? Great hatreds are born and bred, and last a lifetime in such instances.

He was a true Southern Democrat, Baptist and Mason. He died as he lived, fearless to the last. He had great respect for his grandmother, Nancy Anderson Cypert. In fact she must have truly been well loved and respected by all the family, for she had many namesakes throughout the family.”

Quilt milestone

2008-09-14T09:44:00.001-07:00

Today I finally finished assembling the rows for my first quilt. I've been dawdling on this, but the arrival of cool temperatures has inspired me to get back to work on garment sewing. Completion of the 16 rows (of 16 blocks each) seemed like a good stopping point.

The 16 rows are pinned together and wrapped around the book. The page on the right shows how the quilt is supposed to look when done. Dear readers, I will not be doing the extensive applique shown in the middle border. I want to finish this in my lifetime, perhaps even in 2008. I have lovely blue print fabric for the narrow outer and inner borders, but I need to buy something for the middle border that has enough interest to replace the applique.

I can't believe I had the patience to sew those 256 seams. Oh, the tedium. I'm not sure I'm cut out for quilting, but I'm looking forward to the completed lap quilt. I really like the design.

Go Away Gustav

2008-08-27T09:28:00.000-07:00

Oh this forecast is so scary! I just made hotel reservations in northern Mississippi for my daughter and her family in case they have to evacuate New Orleans on Sunday.

The Choiring of the Trees

2008-08-19T16:12:00.001-07:00

I've sadly neglected this blog, alas. The quilt is proceeding at a glacial pace so I have nothing to report except for a few more rows. I have, however, been reading.

I am currently absorbed in The Choiring of the Trees by Donald Harington, one of the most original writers of our times. Harington's body of work revolves around a hillbilly hamlet called Stay More nestled deep in the wilds of Newton County in the Arkansas Ozarks. Each time I dive into a Harington novel, I lose myself in the world the author leads me into, relishing the innovative narrative techniques, the folklore and history, the tall tales, the unforgettable characters, the sophisticated wit.

Do I enjoy these novels a little more because some of my ancestors helped settle Newton County? Sure I do. I think they arrived there about the same time as the Ingledews (1840ish) in my first Harington read, The Architecture of the Arkansas Ozarks.

Imagine my surprise when I couple of weeks ago, I saw this article in USAToday. Apparently an Arkansas genealogist has traced Barack Obama's maternal lineage to Newton County where his ancestors, the Bunches, arrived in the 1840s. What's more, the Bunches are buried in the tiny hamlet of Dinsmore (Newton County). Dinsmore was my grandfather's middle name.

My first quilt

2008-07-18T05:31:00.000-07:00

I started a quilt five years ago. I made 256 tiny blocks for a lap quilt, put them in a drawer, and there they've languished all this time.

Since I don't really need any clothes right now, to satisfy my sewing appetite, I resumed work on the quilt. In the picture, you can see the first seven of the eventual sixteen rows of the quilt. Oops, I spot an error in the picture. Can you see it too?

The design for this quilt came from a book called Scrap Quilts. I bought it because I wanted to make quilts like my grandmother made -- from this and that and the remains of old dresses and feedsacks. When I got to the part in the directions that said to square up all 256 of the blocks to 3.5 inches, I gulped. Ugh -- that seemed so tedious. I did three or four blocks, trimming a hair or two off a couple of edges. Then I made the decision to continue making the quilt like my grandmother would have. Goodness gracious, she never would have done that tedious trimming. Her quilts are endearingly irregular, functional, and lovingly quilted by hand.

So I guess I'll see if I like the modifed (lazy) approach when the quilt is completed. Well, let's hope I complete it. At the rate I'm going it could be several more years.

I'm not sure I'm cut out for quilting. I gravitate toward more instant gratification projects -- cut it out and sew it up in a couple of hours or maybe couple of days.

Anyway, this quilt is dedicated to my grandmother, Maudie Mamie Lane -- how's that for a good old southern name.

Kenneth King Moulage Adventures

2008-07-10T06:33:00.000-07:00

Back in May, I decided to devote some time to drafting the Kenneth King moulage. Luckily, my two year old measurements were very carefully taken and amazingly accurate. The only one that needed tweaking was the front waist length -- it was too long by about 1/2 inch.

Impatient for results, I drafted and sewed the first pass pretty quickly. I found a few things to correct:

Shorten front waist length by 1/2 inch. Very easy to do.
Add a 1/2 inch swayback alteration. This small amount produced an amazing improvement. Also very easy to do.
There was too much bust shaping for this modestly endowed person. This was unexpectedly difficult to fix.

So here's the story on reducing the bust shaping. The moulage CD contains special instructions for D cups and up, but absolutely nothing for small cups (I'm almost an A). I had to wing it.

First of all, there is an interim bust dart that disappears in the final draft. You are instructed to make it 1 1/8 inch deep. I changed mine to 3/4 inch. This helped, but I still had this pointy muslin shape that collapsed over the bust. I redrafted and redrafted and redrafted again (just the front, back was fine), changing dart ending points and miscellaneous related things ad nauseum. I ran out of muslin and went back for another 12 yards. Nothing worked.

Finally, in desperation, I decided to contact KK himself for help. When I landed on his website, however, what to my wondering eyes should appear but a correction to the moulage CD instructions! And what was it for, you ask? It was a change to reduce bust shaping, which the King himself had sometimes found to be excessive. I redrafted one last time and guess what, a perfect fit!

So, if you decide to try the moulage and you are small-busted, go get the correction from KK's website and try reducing the interim bust dart.

I then drafted a sloper from the moulage which is a pretty good fit except for being a little big in the armhole. I haven't made anything from the sloper yet because I OD'd on drafting for a while. I also think I could use a drafting book.

I have, however, used some of the measurements taken to make the moulage along with the final moulage measurements to assess the fit of purchased patterns. I hope to make better use of the moulage and sloper when I recover from the trauma of ~~a week~~ nearly two weeks of non-stop drafting.

Sudoku

2008-06-28T16:32:00.000-07:00

My sewing life these days is frequently interrupted by my compulsion to learn to play Sudoku. About a month ago, I put this link to counttonine.com on my iGoogle homepage, and now I can't stay away from it.

A mathematician by education (B.S., M.S.,) and an IT geek by profession (pre-retirement), I can scarcely resist such a mathematical game. I started out at the lowest of five levels and have worked my way up to level four (known euphemistically as "hard"). I have a long way to go to reach the top level. It's getting really challenging, and I have to do lots of analysis (poor me -- I love it). My plan is for my brain to forge bazillions of new neural pathways as it strategizes how to win this game, thereby warding off cognitive decline and eventual dementia. And besides, I just miss the intense problem solving mode of my career, and this little game can put me back in that zone real fast.

As a matter of fact, I find Sudoku highly addictive, as do many others. Take a look at this article. Apparently, a drug trial had to be aborted because 4 or 5 of the jurors were playing Sudoku instead of paying attention to the evidence being presented.

Lola in a striped dress

2008-06-22T11:36:00.000-07:00

I was going through some old photographs when I ran across this picture of my mother taken probably in 1943 or 1944. It looks like she is wearing a wedding ring, so that would date the picture after August 1943.

This post IS about sewing because I can say with 99% certainty that she either made this dress herself or a female relative made it for her.

Everybody sewed. Everybody quilted. My grandmother worked as a seamstress. I grew up surrounded by women who sewed so it was the most natural thing in the world for me to take up the needle at a very early age.

I was about four years old when I decided to make a dress for the doll in this picture.

Although the doll is dressed (barely) in the picture, over time, all of her clothes were lost. She was dirty and hemorrhaging stuffing through a hole in her knee. I adored her and took her everywhere with me. She was beautiful.

To avoid further decline in her condition, I thought she needed clothes. My mother gave me some scraps, needle and thread, and yes, even scissors. The sewing machine was off limits.

I had the most beautiful image of a dress in my head. I cut two squares of fabric and split one of them down the middle. I sewed the sides together with long running stitches, leaving them open at the top for armholes. I proceeded to cut slits in one of the side fronts for buttonholes. I tried the dress on "My Kid" and came face to face with the gap between vision and reality. Where were the puffy sleeves, peter pan collar, and lace? Where had I gone astray? Although I had the sewing gene, I had just learned that it would have to be nurtured with many years of practice and both failures and successes. Quite a grown-up lesson for a four-year-old.

Crushed but determined, I continued to make doll clothes, recruiting my sister's dolls long after I gave up my own.

One minute cell phone pocket

2008-06-15T14:50:00.000-07:00

I hate it that I made so many pairs of pants without pockets a couple of years ago. I'm always misplacing my cell phone around the house for lack of a way to anchor it to my body.

As I strolled past the sewing room this morning holding my cell phone and headed downstairs, I suddenly backtracked and went in. I grabbed a scrap of muslin from the interfacing bin, laid the cell phone on it, and cut a strip of approximately 12" x 3.5". I did a little folding, then serged up both sides. Pocket done!

As I often do, I had simply serged the inside edge of my waistband and stitched in the ditch without turning under so there was enough fabric below the stitching to attach the pocket to. I just pinned on the pocket and sewed it on.

Here's the inside:

I was too lazy to rethread the machines with a matching color -- the black thread already on them would have to do.

And here's the view from the outside:

You can barely make out the phone its pocket. So I'll probably put the phone in my purse when I go out -- it could be awkward retrieving the phone from this location in a public place. But around the house, it's perfect.

Bernina lover

2008-06-14T07:06:00.001-07:00

I've been a Bernina fan since I bought a 930 in 1983 after suffering for years with cantankerous Singers. My purchase made my mother and sister so jealous that they immediately traded their 830s for 930s like mine! "My" 930 lives on at my daughter's house so I can sew when I visit.

My second Bernina, a 2000DE serger bought in 1993, resides in my sewing room where it still serges like the wind.

I bought my third Bernina in 2002, a 165E Artista that remains my cherished main machine.

In case you're wondering about the fate of the other two 930s, here's the story:

1. My original Bernina 930 developed a major problem with the motor armature and needed an expensive repair. It got so bad while sewing my daughter's prom dress that my mother and I loaded up our machines and started driving toward each other. Two hours later, I was on my way back home with her machine, and she was headed back to her house with mine. The prom dress was finished on time.

2. My mother traded my defective 930 model for a Bernina embroidery machine for my sister.

3. My sister bought a Bernina 1260 and gave her 930 to my mother.

4. My mother's 930 (previously my sister's) was sold at auction a few months ago. Some lucky individual got a fabulous machine, a high end cabinet, and drawers full of feet and attachments for $55.

Oh yes, I've been disloyal -- I bought a Babylock coverstitch and a Janome 6260QC for a backup/travel machine. But Bernina remains my favorite brand.

I just discovered a new Bernina forum set up to fill the void created when Bernina took down its message boards a few months ago. If you're a Bernina user -- go sign up!

Bobby Kennedy

2008-06-05T16:21:00.000-07:00

Please bear with me through one more non-sewing post.

Today, June 5, 2008, is the 40th anniversary of the assassination of Bobby Kennedy. That event was an enormous tragedy and one of the defining moments of 1968, if not the whole decade, and certainly of my youth. I was 23 years old and absolutely devastated, deeply saddened in a way that only the very young can be. To my hopeful generation, RFK embodied the idealism of the sixties and resurrection of the legacy of his brother. 1968 was the first year I was eligible to vote in a presidential or senatorial election. I remember crying in front of the television set when they replayed and replayed and replayed that terrible scene in a Los Angeles hotel.

Where is the press coverage? I found this from the Washington Post and a couple of other articles. I haven't noticed any retrospectives on any of the network news channels. Why is this momentous occasion passing virtually unnoticed? Perhaps there will be more tomorrow, on the anniversary of the day he actually passed away?

Here's a nice slideshow from ABC news. Let's all take a moment and remember Bobby Kennedy.

I'll try to post something sewing-related next time.

Bo Diddley is gone

2008-06-02T16:09:00.000-07:00

Among the earliest Rock'n Roll music that I can recall is that of Bo Diddley and his hit song "Hey Bo Diddley," high energy music with a beat that takes root in your bones and never leaves.

Hearing of Bo Diddley's passing today propels me into a reminiscence of a childhood spent in a conservative southern city where all such music was condemned as depraved. We listened in secret at slumber parties and in our rooms when our parents were not close by. We danced the "dirty bop." We adored Elvis Presley.

I once attended a class based on the theories of Dr. Morris Massey known collectively as "What you are is where you were when." More precisely, if you can understand the world that an individual lived in up to and including age 10, you will approach a good understanding of that person's worldview and values, or at least, what issues shaped that person's worldview and values.

I was 10 years old when I first heard Bo Diddley and Elvis Presley. The cold war was in full swing. Dr. Salk successfully tested the polio vaccine. Emmitt Till was murdered. Civil war broke out in Vietnam.

Issey Miyake dress

2008-05-29T03:30:00.000-07:00

How long is too long to keep a dress? I made this one circa 1984, but each time I purge the closet, it is spared the death march to the Salvation Army.

It is my first and most loved Issey Miyake garment. It hasn't been worn a lot, but it aged well, having last been worn to a party about 10 years after I made it.

Why do I hang on to it? Well, it is a huge departure from my usual conservative, classic style. I spotted the fabric at a wonderful, now defunct, fabric store in Tulsa, OK. I told the shop's owner I thought it would make a nice, classic shirtwaist dress for work. Jo, stylish lady that she was, expressed horror that I would waste her gorgeous fabric on something so blah.

"I have the perfect pattern for the fabric and for you," she said, as she led me to the Vogue pattern book.

She was right. I felt daring that day and took the plunge.

Although the dress survived, the pattern wasn't so fortunate. Alas, I donated it many years ago.

I know I'll never wear it again, but sometimes I just like to pull it out and smile.

Stash inventory

2008-05-15T14:25:00.000-07:00

My stash multiplies at night, sneaks out of the sewing room, and lays claim to the guest room and the upstairs balcony. Tired of not knowing where everything ran off to, I corralled all the fabric cuts I could find and put them in bins by fiber type, with woolens occupying the coveted space in the chest of drawers. That was a year ago, and now I'm tired of digging through bins, pulling out lengths, and measuring them to see if they'll work for whatever I'm wanting to make.

So, for the first time in my long, fruitful stashing career, I'm taking inventory. Yes, I'm measuring each piece, pinning a snippet in a notebook, and writing its description and stats.

So far, I've attacked one bin containing mostly linen and a few cottons. Here's the after picture:

I wish I had taken a before picture, but the sliver of the bin on the right gives an idea of the starting conditions.

This bin contains 38.5 yards of fabric, and it's not even full. Based on these early stats, I'm projecting a total of 200 yards in the five bins. That's not too bad, but there's also a box of white fabrics in the closet, the chest of drawers in the sewing room, and a steamer trunk in the garage. Oh wait, I think there's some fleece in the linen closet.

At least I now know that I have enough navy linen to make some pants which is what got this all started in the first place. I also have six different cuts of ivory or off-white linen. Everything else is blue. Time to shop for some more colors.