GRANDMA'S FLOWER GARDEN

A childhood dream come true

Sun, 25 Jan 2009 12:27:56 +0100

My SO‘s father enjoys working with wood – primarily with a coping saw (or maybe a fretsaw or scrollsaw....I have to admit that I don‘t know what the differences between these saws are). He cuts out intricate wooden shapes to make toys, wall decorations, and other small items. I have a beautiful wooden letter opener, a wooden coat rack / growth chart for the grandkids, a sheep pull-toy, an egg holder (Germans like soft-boiled eggs for breakfast), and more – all received as gifts from him.

He started this hobby when he was a boy, growing up in pre-war and war-ridden Germany (he just turned 80 last year). When he was a boy he had the plans and instructions for making a wooden model post coach and always dreamt of making such a model himself – but the plans got lost somewhere along the way.

A couple of years ago, he mentioned that he had always wanted to make the model coach.

So we started searching the Internet – good old Google! We discovered all sorts of interesting things – model coaches for sale, books about post coaches, even old post coach timetables – but it wasn‘t until it ocurred to us that a post coach is very similar to a western stage coach and I remembered that my mother had made a wooden model stage coach to use as a Christmas decoration (loaded with presents and with one of Santa‘s elves as the driver, I believe) that we finally found what we were looking for.

A company called Windy Hill Woods, located someplace in the US (which I am afraid is since out of business – their website seems to no longer exist), made wagons and wooden models of wagons, wooden wheels, etc. and also published a whole series of little books on how to make such models and wheels yourself. One of the books is “Model Stage Coach: Patterns, templates and step by step instructions for building a wooden model stage coach.“ BINGO!

We ordered the book and were very excited when it arrived. It is very thorough, with photos illustrating the steps of the instructions. There were a few problems though. First of all, the book was (of course) in English and SO‘s father doesn‘t speak English – but he has me as a translator, so not really a problem. A more serious problem is that all the measurements (of the thorough, detailed plans) are in inches – and Germany uses the metric system. But, once again, inches can be converted to centimeters, so that problem can also be solved. One problem that we didn‘t anticipate was that pages seemed to be missing from the book – but a few e-mails and faxes back and forth between Germany and Windy Hill Woods (fortunately still in existence then) solved that problem also.

Then work could begin. He worked on his model bit by bit, whenever he found the time, and whenever we visited we could always admire the lastest developments. During the course of the work, he really made it his model – adding details or changing them to suit his materials and his ideas of what a post coach should be like. Some times small difficulties with the next step lead to group brain-storming and problem solving so that, in that respect also, it was a group project.

He spent a lot of time getting the details just right, like these brakes...

When the coach itself was finished, then came the horses – a real challenge!

My SO drew some sketches and his father carved the horses. Of course, he

wanted them to look like they were pulling the coach and the harnesses had

to be realistic also...

The coach and horses are finished –

now all that's missing is the coachman.

Last time I visited, I could admire the figure for the coachman, but there was

still some discussion as to what he should be wearing....

Starting the new year off right... or at least trying

Sat, 3 Jan 2009 17:31:30 +0100

After being seriously behind on my blog entries for some time now, I‘ve decided to use the beginning of a new year as the push that I seem to need to get started again. So happy new year to anyone who might be reading this.

My SO is an artist, so he‘s very creative. He‘s also very skilled at working with all kinds of materials – wood, metal, etc.. He‘s built shelves and cupboards for me, made me a raddle for my loom, helped me renovate – you get the idea. And he hates to throw anything away which could potentially serve as art or building materials (I won‘t go into details on the resulting storage and retrieval problems). This is background information for the following story.

Years ago, I “rescued” a treadle sewing machine (Phoenix brand) that the neighbors were going to throw away. I have no idea where they got it, but it had obviously not been used for sewing for a long time. The table was lovely wood with inlaid decorations and an inlay measuring “tape”, but the wood was scratched, someone had parked a can of paint on it which had left a ring, etc.. And the sewing machine didn‘t work. A mechanically-minded friend spent a whole day trying to coax it into action, but it just wouldn‘t work. For a while I used it to wind bobbins, then it got relegated to a decorative function – as a table in my entry.

I took out the machine itself, filled the resulting hole with a piece of (not matching) wood, and covered the surface with a runner. It has a nice little drawer which was a good place to keep my keys close by the front door. I was ok....but it wasn‘t really beautiful.

Last year, my SO removed the original wooden table and replaced it with a nicer wooden surface to make what is a much more attractive, interesting side table for my living room.

And he kept the original wooden table top (remember, he hates to throw things away).

As a quilter, I have several cutting mats (the “self-healing” type that are used together with rotary cutters). I know that they should be kept lying level (not leaning against the wall) and out of direct sunlight (they warp), but one day I put a warm tea-kettle on the largest mat (don‘t ask – I can‘t remember why I was so negligent) which made it warp in a kettle-sized circular area and, of course, made it a very poor surface for accurately cutting fabric on. If justice is its own reward, then stupidity (or scatterbrainedness) is certainly its own punishment! Oh well, I had been using it for a long time, the surface was pretty well scarred, maybe it was time for a new one anyway. Did my SO want the warped one? Of course. He wasn‘t sure what he would do with it, but something was sure to come up.

And something did. I‘m not sure when and how things clicked, but the old sewing machine table and the warped cutting mat were combined to make a really lovely card table.

First he sawed out the whole center section of the table (with the hole for the sewing machine)...

He filled the resulting hole with some scrap wood....

leaving an indented area large enough to hold a piece of the cutting mat which he cut to fit.

He turned the cutting mat piece upside down (no cuts and no grid lines) and – voila! a card table – the only one of its kind in the whole world – and the very satisfying feeling of not having wasted good materials.

And look how lovely the inlay work looks now!

How was your weekend?

Wed, 19 Nov 2008 22:27:36 +0100

Oh, it was sew-sew....

Take 10 enthusiastic quilting friends, several sewing machines, 2 ironing boards, 3 irons, piles of fabric, pins, needles, threads, and a good selection of work-in-progress and put them all in a modern youth hostel for three days and two nights and what do you get? A very happy group of ladies and quite a few finished projects (or at least projects well on their way to completion).

I just got back from such a weekend. Our patchwork and quilting group is celebrating its 25th anniversary this year (hard to believe) and we thought we should do something special to mark the occasion. We‘ve been thinking about organizing a sewing weekend for several years and this seemed like the perfect time to actually make it happen.

We have a very modern youth hostel about an hour‘s drive from here where we could book single rooms (actually 3- and 4-bed rooms, but single occupancy), have three meals a day cooked for us, and have the use of a huge, lovely conference room for our entire stay – and all for less than 100 Euros per person!

We have several group projects in the works and, of course, each of us has plenty of UFO‘s, so we didn‘t think that we would be bored – and we weren‘t! We sewed until around 10:00 pm on Friday and Saturday and to 4:00 pm on Sunday. What a treat to not have to worry about meals, kids, husbands, house, garden, etc. It‘s amazing how much sewing can get done when you can stick with it for more than just a few minutes at a time (or even more than just one or two hours).

After cleaning and packing up on Sunday afternoon, we all sat down to have coffee together and to sum up the experience. What was good? What was not so good? What could be improved or changed if we have such a weekend again? Everyone was very satisfied. “It was much nicer than I had anticipated it would be.” But then one criticism was voiced – “It wasn‘t long enough!”

The weekend was such a huge success that we have decided to make it an annual affair!

Here are some impressions of our stay:

Everyone brought along several projects to work on, but we also had

several group projects that we took turns working on. Here, the quilt for

the friend who moved back to Sweden (see my earlier blog entry) is being

quilted. We finished the quilting on the weekend. Now all it needs is binding –

hope that doesn't wait until we have our next quilting weekend next year!

The second group project was this quilt, started by one of our members

who very sadly died suddenly last year. We decided to finish the quilt for

her and donate it to be used in the parents' apartment at a local children's

hospital.

We got it up to a little more than 2 x 2 meters (80 x 80 inches) – we know because

we measured – which ought to be big enough for a double bed. Now we have

to decide how to quilt it!

Watch where you're cutting!

An extra hand would be nice....

One of the personal projects – she's hoping to be finished by Christmas.

Encouraging the next generation – and we do need them!

All in all, a very successful weekend!

Toe-up socks

Sun, 2 Nov 2008 20:44:30 +0100

Judging by the number of sock-knitting reports, blogs, clubs, etc. on the Internet I don‘t seem to be the only one who is enthusiastic about socks. I think that I can safely say that I always have a least one pair that I am working on. Nothing fancy, just 2-2 ribbing around the ankle and stockinette stitch foot. And with double-pointed needles (I don‘t quite understand the rage for knitting socks on circular needles, but oh well...maybe I‘m just old fashioned). Socks are my all-time favorite take-along project – on the train or plane, at the Dr.‘s office, while the grandkids are doing their homework, etc., etc. I always grab a sock-in-progress before going almost anywhere. Just imagine, the car might break down and I would have hours of time by the side of the road, at the garage, etc. and not have a sock along to fill the time – unthinkable!

One result of all of my sock knitting (aside from lots of socks for me, family, and friends, of course) is that bits and pieces of various sock yarns accumulate. Every once in a while I knit a pair of “garbage” socks to use up all the accumulated bits. I knit them helter-skelter, without worrying about them matching – they will still keep my feet warm. The only thing I make sure of is that all the yarn left-overs are of the same type so they “behave” the same way (for example when washed).

Now I have accumulated enough bits of various colors of a cotton/wool sock yarn, that I think I have enough for a pair of socks. I weighed the last pair of socks that I knit with this yarn and weighed all the left-overs and I‘m sure I have enough, but I don‘t know for sure how far I will get with half of the yarn (= one sock), how long to make the ribbed top, etc.

And I certainly don‘t want to end up with left-overs from my left-overs! So I decided that this would be a good time to try knitting socks from the toe up. I‘m sure I have enough for the feet of two socks. I‘ll knit two socks in parallel and knit the ribbed tops the same lengths, until I run out of my left-over yarn.

Here are half of my left-overs. I know the colors don‘t go together well at all, but that doesn‘t matter. I‘m not planning on wearing the finished socks to the opera!

I have never knit socks from the toe up, but I have Internet access and that is the same as having a whole treasure trove of knitting information – there are instructions, tutorials, even short videos of all sorts of knitting techniques. I found two good descriptions to help me get started – both, it turned out from Wendy D. Johnson (here and here).

I won‘t repeat Wendy‘s very good instructions. I‘ll just say that with this technique, you start by knitting the toe cap. There seem to be several ways to do this, I used the short row method, starting with a length of crocheted chain stitches – that‘s the dark blue yarn in the photo of my toe, below.

Then you knit the foot in the round (I prefer using 3 double-pointed needles) until you get to the heel, which you also work with short rows (just like the toe).

Then you continue in the round to work the top of the sock as high as you like....or until the yarn runs out. I like to work the entire top of the sock in ribbing (I think I read that Elisabeth Zimmerman liked to do this also), so they stay up better.

Here are my finished socks. As the Germans say, “Nicht schön aber selten.” (Not pretty, but unusual.)

Knitting from the toe-up was perfect for using up left-over yarns evenly – and it did impress many of my friends who had never heard of doing such a thing before – but I don‘t think that I will be using this method much for normal sock knitting....

Fabric, string...and wind

Tue, 14 Oct 2008 11:14:24 +0200

It‘s autumn here in Germany. Days are getting cooler (and nights colder), leaves are turning...and falling. Actually, a lovely time of the year...if only it didn‘t mean that winter is on its way – and where I live that means mostly cold, gray, drizzly days will soon be here.

Oh well....but now it‘s autumn and Sunday was just beautiful. The morning fog (also a standard autumn feature) burned off by noon, the sun came out and it was warm and lovely. Perfect weather for an outing...but where should we go? Then we remembered, that it was the weekend of the local kite festival. Sounded like a good idea – and it was! The weather was perfect for kite flying – just enough wind (and we were lucky with our timing, later the wind more or less disappeared as I have been told).

The festival is held on open fields on a high slope above a neighboring village. There must have been a thousand people there when we arrived – families with kids, kite enthusiasts of all ages, kite-flying clubs from the area and also from further away (Holland, Luxembourg) – all flying kites of various shapes, sizes, colors, degrees of complication, etc. (I might mention that our decision to go was so spontaneous that we forgot our kite...duh!)

Here is a selection of some of my favorite kites:

Like a quilt in the sky.

Many of the kites were so imaginative, like these

"insects" or "wind sprites" or... whatever they might be.

It's a funny thing about kites – as soon as they are flying

and moving, they really seem to be alive. These two

were literally dancing on the wind.

This one looked like it had been painted (maybe silk painting?).

The tail was of some kind of sheer fabric that shimmered

when the wind played with it.

Most kites these days are made of ripstop nylon and fiberglass or graphite

poles, which make lightweight, sturdy kites. This kite was made of muslin

and bamboo which was beautiful, but which was probably much heavier –

and which was why it was just sitting on the ground...not enough wind.

This isn't actually a kite – it's more like a flying sculpture which is suspended from the

kite string of another kite. There were several such figures – seahorses,

penguins, an owl – and some were so large that they made large "bales" of

fabric when they were rolled up. The pull of the carrier kite much be quite

strong to not sag under the weight of such a huge amount of fabric.

Also not kites, but people who like kites also seem to like

other things for the wind to play with – and they probably

have lots of scraps of bright-colored kite fabric. The fabric

triangles are attached to rings (graphite?) and the points

of the triangles on the bottom ring are attached to one

another. They spin beautifully on the breeze.

When we were kids, we bought paper kites for a nickle (5 cents)

and had lots of fun flying them. When they were well established

in the sky, we cut (or tore) a slit in a piece of paper, hung the

paper on the kite string, and the paper slid magically up the

string to meet the kite. This man let 60 (I counted them) miniature

kits ride up the string of his kite.

We started with patchwork in the sky and now here's

weaving in the sky. In this case, I think maybe painted

on clear plastic.

Of course, this is just a small selection of all the imaginative,

colorful, intriguing kites that were being flown at the

festival. The next day we read in the paper that there

had been kites at night the evening before – definitely

something to look forward to for next year!

The question is...

Sun, 5 Oct 2008 19:31:22 +0200

...have I finished a UFO? Or have I just created a new one?

I finished weaving the wool warp that I wrote about in July! I didn‘t manage to weave 30 minutes a day as I had hoped, but I did weave often enough – even for just a few minutes sometimes – that I finished a few days ago.

Cutting a warp off the loom is a little like Christmas. It‘s the first time that you get to see the entire piece that you have woven – and in my case (because I didn‘t remember how long the warp was) it was the additional suprise of seeing exactly how much fabric I had produced. I wove almost exactly 5 meters (about 5 and a half yards).

Here‘s the fabric right after I cut it off the loom. I have to admit that I am quite pleased with the results – and, entirely unintentionally (I measured that warp years ago) the colors are IN this season. All the shops in town are full of autumn fashions in shades of purple, wine red, and gray. So, if I do indeed intend to sew a jacket from my fabric, I should make an effort to try to get started (and finished) soon....but more about that later.

The problem with weaving (if it is a problem), is that just cutting the fabric off the loom doesn‘t mean that you are done – not like socks, just hide the yarn ends and you can wear your nice new socks immediately. A woven fabric needs additional work (and in some cases, lots of additional work) before the project can be considered completed. So the answer to my question at the beginning of this report is, “Yes and yes.” Yes, I have finished the weaving, and yes, I now have a new project – turning my woven fabric into a finished product.

The first step of the new project is to hide yarn ends. Ends of yarns that broke during the weaving and their replacement yarns must be darned into the fabric (hopefully invisibly). This must be done, no matter what the final use of the fabric will be.

The fabric also needs to be washed. The washing relaxes the fabric – giving it a more finished appearance – and in the case of the woolen yarns I used, it makes the yarns “bloom” – they become fuller and softer. This process is called “fulling”.

I didn‘t want to wash the entire fabric without having a least a small idea of how it would behave, so some sampling was in order. I decided to cut 4 small pieces of my fabric to put through various treatments to see which final result I liked best. Handwoven fabrics tend to fray – especially fabrics that haven‘t yet been fulled, so before cutting, I stitched two overlapping lines of wide zigzag stitching and one line of straight stitch (over the area where the zigzag stitching overlapped) on both sides of each place where I planned to cut the fabric. (A small aside: This is a great – and very satisfying – way to use up all those partially used spools and bobbins of sewing thread that seem to accumulate.).

I stitched, then cut and had four pieces of my (so far unfulled) fabric, each approx. 20 x 20 cm (8 x 8 inches). I washed the first piece by hand in warm, soapy water, squishing it up and down and squeezing it for a couple of minutes. I then rolled it in a terry cloth towel to get most of the moisture out and let it dry. The yarns fulled nicely – the fabric was much softer and fluffier – and the piece shrank by approx. 10% length- (warp)wise and about 5% width- (weft)wise.

I thought that maybe I could full the fabric by machine, so I ran the other 3 samples through the 30° C (86° F) pre-wash cycle of my machine for 2 minutes, 5 minutes, and 10 minutes. I was surprised that there was no noticeable difference in the amount of fulling (or felting, I would have thought) or shrinkage between the 3 samples and even as compared to my hand-washed sample. I was getting ready to wash sheets and towels (at 60° C / 140° F) and figured, “Oh what the heck....I‘ll toss one sample in for the whole cycle”. This sample shrank by approx. 35% warp-wise and 25% width-wise – and felted considerably in the process. I was actually a nice, light-weight felt and would conceivably make a nice winter jacket....but I don‘t think I‘ll do that – I don‘t have enough control with the machine treatment. German washing machines are not only front-loaders, they also heat the water themselves so it is almost impossible to tell at what point the water is at which temperature and the doors are locked until all the water is pumped out, which makes it really inconvenient to keep stopping and checking if and how well the fulling/felting process is progressing. So no machine fulling.

I had one other treatment option that I wanted to check – brushing. I brushed one of the fulled samples on both sides with a wire brush. The results were very nice. A softer (and I assume warmer) fabric with the woven pattern still nicely visible. Would make a nice blanket. So the question is now, do I want to find a (hopefully) good pattern, cut the pieces and sew myself a jacket (or coat?) or do I want to brush 5 meters of 70 cm (approx. 28 inches) wide fabric on both sides, cut it in half and sew the halves together to make a blanket? Hmmmmm.... I haven‘t made up my mine yet. I‘ll let you know when I do.

Here is a comparison of the fulled fabric (right) and

the fulled and brushed fabric (left).

And here are the results of my sampling. The untreated yardage is on the top.

The clockwise from there are a) the hand-washed sample, b) the washed

and brushed sample, and c) the machine washed, felted sample.

Quilt group group quilts

Sun, 21 Sep 2008 13:40:17 +0200

Quilts lend themselves wonderfully to being group projects. The individual blocks can be sewn by different people, then members of the group get together to sew the blocks together and finish the quilt.

During the last twenty years, our quilters group has made quite a few group quilts – as a gift for a new baby, as a birthday present for what the Germans call a “round” birthday (50-60-70, etc), to raise money for charity (we raffled off a Grandmother‘s Flower Garden quilt and earned around 3,000 Euros for a local children‘s hospital), and as going-away presents.

This year it was time for another group project and, sadly enough, a going-away quilt. One of our members comes originally from Sweden and decided to move back to Sweden (closer to children, grandchildren, etc.) after becoming widowed about a year and a half ago. She‘s a good friend and a good, active member of our group. I told her that I didn‘t like her decision at all....but I could understand it.

Time for a group quilt. One problem with group quilts is that everyone sews a little differently, so we had to pick a block which could easily be adjusted to compensate for

small difference in sizes. A version of the traditional Log Cabin block is a good choice. Everyone starts with a center square, then sews strips of various sizes around the center square, in concentric squares.

We wanted to make a “scrappy” quilt, but to make sure that all the blocks coordinated, I bought one solid color fabric for the center squares of all blocks and one print fabric (a William Morris print with small birds – she‘s an enthusiastic bird watcher) that was to be used for at least one of the outer squares in each block. Everyone could then add matching fabrics from their stashes to cut strips of various widths to complete the block.

Here are the two fabrics and the letter that I wrote to everyone who planned on sewing a block.

The illustrations show a few of the possible ways to sew the block.

A total of 35 blocks were sewn – enough for 7 rows of 5 blocks each. Since the blocks were 8 x 8 inches (20 x 20 cm) that meant that we could make a single bed-sized quilt. Actually, 3 more blocks came in late – they will go on the back of the quilt. I had enough of the center square fabric for a narrow inner border and enough of the “main” fabric for

the outer border.

Now it was time to get together to sew the blocks together.

First we pinned the blocks to my design wall and rearranged them again and again until we were pleased with the results.

Then we divided the jobs.

One of us pinned the blocks together in the order we had decided on.

Someone else sewed.

And the third one ironed the seams.

Of course, we also had a coffee break. German women are the most unbelievable bakers! In all my time in Germany I don‘t think that I have ever had any kind of a group meeting to which not at least one (and often more) home-baked cake was brought. And, of course, they don‘t bring just “any ol‘ cake”. For example, the strawberry cake shown has a layer of

chocolate glaze beneath the strawberries to prevent the juice from making the cake below soggy!

With so many hands helping, our quilt was done in a couple of hours (including coffee break!). I added the two borders and....

we had a going away party for our friend (the one holding the top end of the quilt in the photo) and surprised her with the finished quilt top.

We still have to add the fleece and back, then quilt the quilt, but we have already planned to spend a week-end together in November to finish the quilt. And I‘m sure that a fantastic selection of home-baked cakes will appear then, too!

Trains in the rain

Tue, 9 Sep 2008 12:26:23 +0200

It has been a long, busy summer, with visitors and visiting, short trips and longer – and all the while still making an effort to get jobs done by the deadlines (nothing was late....except some of the nights before the deadlines!). One thing that suffered was this blog. But now I‘m back from the last trip (for a while at least), have caught up with all my work, and can start thinking about the blog again.

One of the (many) things I like about living in Europe are the trains here. They are my favorite means of transportation. When I go to my friend‘s fabric shop (see my report on the appliqué class) I can either drive the car or take the train. When I drive, it takes about 45 minutes and all that I can do with that time is....well, drive the car – and if I get behind a tractor or a slow truck it takes longer, as it does if it‘s rainy or foggy or icy. When I take the train, it takes about 45 minutes and I can use the time to read, knit, sew, look out the window and dream, etc. And, of course, the train is much more environmentally friendly. Of course, I must admit that the train is occasionally late or has some other little problem, but all in all I much prefer the train to the car.

Unfortunately, not all of the people who make the decisions here in Germany seem to share my enthusiasm for the train. In the course of the last few decades, the side lines have been being closed, one by one. Which is a shame....but (as the saying goes) nothing is so bad that not some small good comes from it. The good that comes from the train lines being reduced, is that in our part of Germany several of the old train lines have been (or are being) turned into cycling paths.

One of these is very close to where I live. It‘s the train line from Ruwer (at the confluence of the Ruwer and Mosel rivers) to Hermeskeil – roughly 50 km. The ride from Ruwer to Hermeskeil is uphill, but at such a slight grade (it couldn‘t be too steep or the trains wouldn‘t have made it) that it‘s only minimally more work than riding on level ground – I think that it‘s about 1%. And riding back down even this slight grade means that you can roll without pedalling a large part of the way – the reward for riding uphill at the beginning.

For anyone who is interested, there‘s a good website.

Work has been progressing on the bike path for the last several years – levelling and asphalting the path, putting railings on bridges, and making it generally safe and bikable. A little like the railroad in the US, work was started on both ends and should meet somewhere in the middle (theoretically this year).

This last weekend, SO and I decided to see how close to being finished the cycling path is. One day we started close to Ruwer and rode (uphill) as far as we could before the pavement ran out – turned out to be about 18 kilometers. The plan for Sunday, was to put the bikes on the back of the car and drive to the other end and start our bike ride from there. The weather report had promised a dry day with some clouds and sun. What we got was a cloudy day with some rain ....and a tiny (very tiny) bit of sun. It was raining when we got to the head of the cycling path, so we decided to wait a little to see if the weather would clear up.

The head of the cycling path is at the old train station in Hermeskeil, which has partly been turned into a train museum. We had heard about the museum, but didn‘t really know anything about it. Sitting in the car, eating our picknick, we decided we‘d look into the musuem. The first thing we discovered is that the museum is only opened from April to September and then only the first weekend of each month. Unbelievably it was the first weekend in September – the museum was open! So we went in, and were certainly glad we did! It‘s amazing! About 50 old steam locomotives – some of them outdoors and some in an old round house (or round house section...there‘s probably a better official term). The rain had stopped, so we wandered around the grounds a little and discovered that rainy days are perfect for photographing old steam engines – it makes them shine and brings out the details. Outdoors the engines are rusting and being reclaimed by nature – a young birch tree growing in a tender, moss on wooden parts – which is a shame, but it also has its own poetry. The 6 or so steam engines indoors are of course in better shape and each has a hand-written sheet of information attached to its side. The round house smells like metal and oil. The engines themselves are huge! I climbed up into the cab of one. It must have been quite a feeling for the engineer to be in charge of such a gigantic piece of machinery – it‘s easy to understand the fascination that the old engines held and hold.

By the time we had finished looking at the trains, the weather had cleared marginally and we did ride our bikes a little (although not to the end of the asphalt from the upper end) before it started raining again – but the serendipitous discovery of the day was without a doubt the train museum!

Here are a few photos to give you an idea of the museum

We parked looking at this sign....which reminded that the museum was there.

Big engines....

...and smaller ones (this one looks like "Emma" the engine in "Jim Knopf und

Lukas der Lokomotivführer" (Jim Button and Luke the Engine Driver), a popular

German children's book by Michael Ende.

At any rate, there were lots of them!

This might be a piece of modern art.

At the throttle....

I just want to share something nice with you

Sun, 3 Aug 2008 22:18:11 +0200

I suppose that you know what the word, “serendipity” means. It‘s the ability to find something good without looking for it (or while looking for something else). I guess you could say that it‘s related to synchronicities – except that sychronicities do not always result in something good.

Anyway, I really love it when things happen serendipitously – it‘s like getting a present and it‘s not even my birthday (or Christmas or whatever...).

When I was in Vienna in June, my SO, my grandson, and I had taken the train home from an afternoon outing. Just outside the train station, a charitable organization had a table full of used books that they were selling to earn money to help support the homeless.

Of course, we stopped and looked and you might argue that it doesn‘t really fulfill the definition of serendipity because we were indeed looking for books, but I certainly didn‘t expect to find such a little treasure! My SO found it and just held it out to me – a small book (only 4 1/4 x 6 inches/ approx. 11 x 15 cm), with only 36 pages and practically no text. It was called “Österreichs Trachtenbüchlein” (Austrian National Costumes), printed by Pinguin Verlag in 1954 and it contained 18 color illustrations, hand-painted by Maria Rehm (I googled her – Austrian painter and illustrator, born 1915 and died 2002). The figures in the paintings aren‘t just standing there, they‘re dancing! Some times kicking up their heels and sometimes sedately promenading. The details are delightful – different “knit” patterns on the knee socks, laces, pleats and gathers, etc. etc. It‘s so much fun to pick up this lovely little book time and again – and discover something new each time.

I thought that you might enjoy seeing a few of the illustrations also.

Here's the cover. You can probably understand why SO thought I might be

interested.

Inside the front cover is this map of Austria. Good for seeing what part

of the country the traditional costumes come from, but also for understanding

Austria's place in Europe. Back in 1954 it had 6 neighbors and was off

on the eastern edge of West Europe. Now things in Europe have relaxed considerably

and Austria is right in the middle, so to speak.

This couple is from Vorarlberg (the farthest west, on the border to Switzerland).

The couple on the left are also from Vorarlberg, while the couple on the

right are from Tyrol (the Inn valley) – look at her ribbons fly!

They are also from Tyrol, but from the valley of the Ötz. Notice the sock patterns,

embroidery, etc.

And here is a couple from South Tyrol, which is now a part of Italy.

Burgenland is in the far east, on the border to Hungary, so this pair

looks much different – no more Alpine influence.

And this ends my little selection. I hope you enjoyed these illustrations as much as I do!

Back at the loom again

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 21:58:38 +0200

Here I am, back at the loom, after a long (too long) pause.

There was a time (gosh...almost 20 years ago!) when weaving was my main textile activity. Looking back, I‘m even a little surprised at all the things I wove – curtains, rugs, fabric for clothing (for myself and for the other members of the family), blankets, wall-hangings, etc., etc. I used many different types of fibers (wool, cotton, linen, rag strips), but almost entirely natural fibers. I even sold things occasionally and, strangely enough, that was sort of the beginning of the end.

The laws here in Germany concerning craftspeople and who can and who can‘t sell their products are very strict. Germany has a hundreds-year-old craftmen‘s tradtion. If you work in one of the traditional crafts (and weaving is a traditional craft here), you must be a master craftsman (or woman) in order to be legally allowed to sell your work. To become a master craftsman, you must first have an apprenticeship (usually three years) and first become a journeyman in your craft. You then work (for a master craftsman) for a while to gather experience before then completing a master-piece and passing a test to be a master of your craft. Then you can sell your products on your own (and not through a master craftsman). Selling products before you are a master can get you into trouble – and maybe even earn you a juicy fine!

Admittedly, the danger of being fined for selling woven goods was probably never very great – mainly because hand-weaving is sort of a dying craft. But somehow the idea was still intimidating and discouraging, so I concentrated more on patchwork and quilting, since these are not traditional German crafts and are, therefore, not regulated by the laws concerning crafts.

I kept on weaving, as a hobby, but it was no longer my main emphasis – there just isn‘t enough time to actively follow all the textile crafts I am interested in. My smaller loom (I have two looms) had been without a warp for at least the last 2 years – and an empty loom is a sad sight indeed. Then about two weeks ago, I invited our entire local quilters group over for a farewell party for one of our members who was moving (more about this when I find the time....). And for some reason, I just couldn‘t bear the idea of covering the empty loom with a sheet (my friend‘s suggestion). I wanted the loom to be warped! I had three warps that I had already measured (then put in a box) and I decided to use one of them – a striped wool warp in gray and light purple. I had measured that warp so long ago that I no longer had any idea what my plans for it were. I did find a sheet of paper that I had made notes on...but the ink had faded (gives you an idea of how long it had been around!) so it was no longer entirely legible. No matter – a well-measured warp should be able to stand the test of time, and wool is generally fairly forgiving, so I started in.

Not only was the warp itself old, I was also kind of out of the weaving habit, and things that would have been routine back when I did more weaving required a little extra time and consideration. But I did it! I got my loom warped and even wove a few inches (so it wouldn‘t be quite so obvious that I had just started) before my guests arrived.

In my stash (actually, I have several – fabrics, knitting yarns, weaving yarns, etc.) I found wool Swedish weaving yarns in a weight (7/2 for anyone who might be interested) and colors that went with my warp. The length of the warp was one of the bits of information that had faded so I wasn‘t sure how much weft I needed. The best idea seemed to be to use several colors – and to use them evenly in narrow weft stripes – so that is what I did. Considering that the design process was more or less by guess and by golly, I must admit that I‘m quite pleased with the results.

I‘m really enjoying weaving again! I try to weave at least 30 minutes a day and the weaving goes fast, so I just might have some nice handwoven wool yardage before too long. And what will I do with it? I have no idea yet – I don‘t even know how much yardage I will have because I don‘t know how the long the warp was, remember? Right now I‘m kind of hoping that it is enough for a light wool jacket...but time will tell and it will be the reason for another blog entry when it does.

Here you can get a good idea of the striped warp and the 4-color weft stripe

repeat (dark blue, wine red, heathery purple, and dark pink). I haven't the

faintest recollection of why the right side of the warp is solid gray. Did I run

out of light purple for the stripes? Was the gray stripe supposed to work

like a "weight" at the hem edge of a garment? Your guess is as good as mine!

By the way, the feet belong to the photographer.

A close up of the fabric so that you can see that it is a straight 2/2 twill weave

and also see the stripes a little better. As you can also see, I'm weaving it

fairly open. The idea is that this type of yarn is made expecially for weaving

and fulls nicely (fingers crossed!) the first time it is washed.