Last night I finished hand-sewing the binding to the second quilted placemat in the set of 3 that I’m making for my cousin.
Remember the nine-patch blocks that I sewed last weekend, and the quilted placemat that was just waiting for me to hand-sew the binding in place?
So I finally got around to doing that.
I also spent some time today going through the fabric stash and slicing, pressing, and sewing together binding strips for the other two placemats that I am making for my cousin. I plan to work on them a little at a time this week, so they should be done in a few days.
It rained last night and all morning. Given California’s current drought, this was a big deal. I stayed inside most of the day and sewed nine-patch quilt blocks. It was very satisfying to go through the stacks of 4.5″ squares that I’d cut several months ago, play with combinations of colors and patterns, and piece together these colorful arrangements. I’m thinking about making more placemats, maybe a couple of table runners, or even a small quilt. In the meantime, aren’t they pretty?
I got home from work–10 hours of what is my Monday after a 3-day weekend–and I was fully prepared to camp out on the couch for the rest of the evening. But, nooooo. Sean said, “We have to run today.”
“Can’t today be a rest day?” I asked.
“No,” Sean said, “because tomorrow is supposed to be the rest day.”
Drat. He was going to be disciplined and stick to the half marathon training plan that I’d printed out and stuck to the refrigerator door.
So I changed into my running clothes and put on my running shoes, and we went out for a forty-minute run, according to schedule. I spent the first half hour alternating between being mad at my husband and trying to distract myself from the various aches and pains that were developing along my hamstrings and shins and the arches of my feet. I spent the last ten minutes focused on just getting home and putting this run behind me.
Just as it is with every long run that I complete, by the time I got home, I felt pretty good about what I’d accomplished, and I was back to liking my husband again. Especially since he’d made puttanesca while I was at work, and we would be able to sit down to eat in a matter of minutes.
I didn’t take any photos of our dinner, but here is one from our 4th of July breakfast that Sean made. My contribution was the handmade quilted placemats and handmade napkins.
Sean is a huge soccer fan and right now we are waiting for the 2015 Women’s World Cup game between the USA and Japan to start.
Earlier for lunch, I made sushi rice and we ate fresh vegetarian hand rolls.
Both Sean and I love sushi and Japanese food, but today Sean is a USA fan, through and through.
I know, I know. Almost a month into this blog, and no pictures of anything crocheted yet. So I present to you:
(Click on any of the images to enlarge.)
A bit of a corner detail:
And another corner:
So pretty, right? So nice and neat and perfectly aligned.
But, ah, this afghan holds a secret.
Behold the back view:
Auugggghhhh!!!!! Unwoven ends!!!!!
Look, even closer:
Yes. It’s shameful. All those loose ends need to be cleaned up. I started and got some of them done. But it’s just not fun, man. I’d rather be doing something else.
Anyway, there’s an easy solution.
It’s like when Sean was a little boy and he and his family went out to eat, and he made a big mess and got spaghetti sauce all over himself, and then later on, after they left the restaurant, his mom happened to glance over at him and noticed his white shirt was spotless, and she said, “How did your shirt get so clean?” and he said, “Oh, I just turned it around, see?” and then he turned around to show her his back, and sure enough, there was the dirty spaghetti sauce part of his shirt, just on the other side.
So, yeah, like that.
I don’t have any photos of a handmade project today, because by the time I remembered to take a picture, the sun was setting. So instead I am sharing a photo that I took earlier this week, on Monday, my regular day off. You can click the image to enlarge, and you can see a few things that I’ve written about already. There’s the fish hat that I knitted, and the jars of iced tea instead of soda, and my first quilted placemat, and the people’s favorite, the Mexican wrestling masks placemat. There’s a pile of fabric waiting to be made into something, maybe another patchwork block table runner. And of course, there’s Sean, who didn’t know I took this photo, because otherwise he would have made a goofy face at the camera. I like this photo because it captures a lot about the way we spend our time inside the house– relaxing, hanging out, engaged in leisure activity– and definitely not cleaning up.
The sock model called last night for evening check-in. He was three hours ahead in Florida. He said, “What are you doing?”
“Sewing. I’m taking a break from knitting. What are you doing?”
“Oh, not much. We just got home a while ago. We went out for oysters.”
“Oysters! Damn it! I want oysters.” I could picture them in my mind, a platter of a dozen raw fat oysters on the half shell, served chilled on a bed of ice. “How were they?”
“Yeah…” By the tone of his voice, Sean didn’t sound too thrilled about his experience with these oysters. Sometimes, you just get a bad batch. Not bad like food-poisoning bad, but just bad like bottom-of-the-barrel, end-of-the-season, so-sad-no-more-good-oysters-until-next-year kind of bad. He said, “Remember when sometimes we’d get them, and they’d be all small, and kinda stringy and not so good?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Remember when they’d be really good. Like that really fresh, fat kind of oyster.”
“Yeah…” I remembered. I waited to hear him tell me that these most recent oysters weren’t as good as the ones we used to have. “And… ?”
“Oh, no, that’s all. These were that really fresh, fat kind.” Then he started laughing. “They were really good.”
“Ha, ha,” I said. “I’m going back to sewing.”