Scrap Wrangling: Pyramid Cheese Puff JArs

I’m about to get crafty on you. I usually don’t do a lot of Pinterest. But this is a Pinterest-inspired answer that I’ve been looking for for a while. I’ve been reworking my studio storage. Which is a nice way of saying I’ve been clearing out all the stuff cluttered in the corners.

I create heaps of scraps. Of all kinds of things. They silt up. some of those are cut shapes I use for design. I have collections of clouds, water ripples, leaves, suns, moons, and flower bits cut out of lace, cheesecloth, and sheers. If they’re in one place and I can find them, they help create the elementals in my backgrounds. If they’re not contained, they float across the studio floor under immovable objects. Sometimes never to be seen again. Sometmes found years after the project is finished.

Hence the cheese puff jars. Don has an addiction to cheese puff balls. I can’t eat them without setting off my celiac, but the containers are great. They’re small plastic barrels with a pop-on lid.

I’ve used these for years to store scraps. or to store threads, paints, dyed yarns, thread ends. Unfortunately, they tend to float back and forth over the floor. You can accidentally step in one, with predictable results. They’re somewhere between an answer and an accident waiting to happen.

I was trying to figure out how to make a storage container for them. I tried mesh shelving. Not quite the right size. I was considering making a shelf system out of PVC. Then I saw a Pinterest post of cans glued together as a pencil sorter.

Gluing bendy plastic bins sounded awful. Then I thought of elastic.

It sounds like you could just wrap elastic around them and pin them together. That was harder than it sounds. I used 1″ rolled elastic and #2 safety pins. I cut elastic the right length, and pinned them together. Then I pinned the elastics together with safety pins into a harness. I slipped the barrels into the harness. Two rows of elastic gave me more stability.

I’m pleased. I have a collection of fabric rocks all together where I can find them. And a water/cloud sun collection. I can put them right by my photo wall and design with them. And a station for 3 different kinds of scraps all in one place. Those have open lids so I can slide bits in as I cut things. I can either use them on their sides, or upend them. It’s all within reach.

I stacked mine in multiples of three. That makes a pyramid and it’s possible to move them as a unit. Groups of three are easier to move than groups of six. I wouldn’t try for groups of nine unless I didn’t plan to move them.

It remains to be seen, if groups of three can be stacked.

Haven’t tried working with them yet, but I’m excited. How long did it take to make the pyramids?

Some thoughts:

  • Cleaning the jars is essential. they’re greasy. The new Dawn Power wash spray does a really good job.
  • You could take off the labels, but that seemed like work.
  • There might be something else out there that is sold in a barrel, that doesn’t leave as much residue, but I don’t know about it. Let me know if you find it.

Rethinking retooling

This last year has been a disaster for my sewing machines. Most of my work depends on intense embroidery. Lately I’ve depended more and more on that stitchery for my images. I love it. But it does wear and tear on the machines. I had 6 major machine breakdowns. last year. I broke down 3 220s, my 770, my 630 and a 930. Some have fixed. Some have not.

I’m a Bernina girl from way back and have been a Bernina Ambassador for most of my career. I work with Berninas because they are tough and they stitch accurately. That doesn’t mean they don’t break down, Particularly if you’re sewing at speed demon speed for hours on end. I was told this is my fault.

I suppose it is. It’s what I do. I can either back away from this kind of stitching or find another way.

Zigzag embroidery allows for intense detail and color, I can’t step away from it. I also can’t keep breaking machines. So something has to change.

Don is my miracle in this. He’s a wizard with older small motors. He’s not specialized in sewing machines, but very mechanically savvy. He’s collecting manuals and parts machines. As always, he’s my hero.

I really can’t function though without a working machine and I prefer 2 backups. I’m not exa sane without a sewing machine.

Years ago I bought a 20 U Singer for intense embroidery. That’s not what these machines are known for. In a way, they’re the cockroach of the sewing machine world. Not in the sense that they hide under the cupboards, but because they are pretty much unkillable. You find them most often in dry cleaner shops for repairs.

It was a mixed success. This thing eats babies and cats, breaks thread constantly, and is fast—too fast—even with different slower pulleys. And it was the weight of a tiny elephant. When I left Porter, I left it in my studio, where it has sat.

Ken, the person renting my house, offered to bring it to me. That in itself is a huge glft But I’ve had my reservations about making this machine work. I first felt I was stepping backward, Is it an answer to the same problem? Is this machine tough enough?

Well, we know it’s tough. Can we make it work with embroidery thread? There’s the question. It’s also paid for.

It had its problems before. But things have changed. I now use stronger threads. I no longer work in a hoop. And we found that a servo motor would step down the speed. So it’s coming to the studio sometime this month, and we try it out. I’ve gone from feeling like I’m stepping back to seeing new possibilities.

You can’t step in the same river twice. You are different and the water is different.

I’m digging out the studio this week to make room, which is why I don’t have new work to show you. I’ll let you know what happens next.

Wish me luck. I think it’s time for another spoonbill.

Machine Hell: How Commercial Do You Need to Be? In Search of a Tough Enough machine

The Broke Down Bench

What do you do when your techniques are killing your machines?

This is about component embroidery. Lately, I’ve leaned more and more on component embroidery to create large astonishing embroidered images. I love the work it creates. I am completely reliant on my machines.

I have a love/hate relationship with most of my sewing machines. I really love them when they work. I’m in abject hell when they break down.

Since I’m a Bernina girl from way back, I’m used to tough well-built machines. Yesterday, my ancient 930 had a moment. I thought it was a screwdriver fix; It was not. We’re playing mix and match between the two 930s in the studio. Neither is quite ready for prime time. It has brought to mind how intensive my work is.

That was underlined by the 3 220s I managed to break last year, and my 770 which has spent 7 months out of the last year in need of several kind of repairs. And is once again in the shop.

These are lovely machines. They’re built tough, and I’m still having them break under me like I was shooting horses I’m riding on in a battle. I’m devastated. I know better than to have only one functional machine. Because always, inevitably, something will break.

When I talked with my mechanic she said “You do know you sew more than other people..” Which means I stitch very heavily to make my images. Meaning perhaps I’m asking more out of a machine than it’s built for.

Which leads to the question, do I need a different machine? Do I need a commercial machine?

I went through this several years ago when I bought my 770 Bernina. It’s fast. It’s got that nice long arm and some lovely features. It does not put up with mad-speed sewing. I love it. I’m afraid of it too. It threw its hook at me through the door on the bobbin mechanism. I wish I were kidding. And I don’t know what to do about a machine that’s off more than it’s on.

So here’s my 2025 Challenge.

Do I change my work because my machine won’t do it? Do I find another way? Do I look for other tools? Or do I back away from a stunning technique that lets me do things past my earlier abilities?

Which leads me to humming something like a Sheryl Crow song. “Are you tough enough to be my sewing machine?”

Being an artist is only peripherally about making art. It’s mostly about developing skills, ideas and visions. The art is a byproduct. It is a picture of where your art is at a particular moment. This is why I can always let go of a piece of art if it raises my abilities as an artist. Any artist’s first creation is the skills, techniques, and vision you make art from.

I’m looking. I need a zigzag machine that is commercial grade I can control the speed on. And I need to find some money to look with. I’m always willing to give up a piece of art to further what I can do as an artist.

Those of us who live an artist’s life live with constantly unbalanced finances. Don and I are on social security. I don’t discuss my difficulties hoping for a handout. But I have used my art to fund things I couldn’t buy any other way. I’ve offered work of mine at dead rock bottom prices, when the need arises. I’ve never asked for money itself. I’ve offered the work I have to make what I need happen. I’m doing that now.

These pieces represent work I couldn’t have done ten years ago. They’re made with component quilting elements, separately embroidered and incorporated into the quilt itself. It’s changed what I can do. I need a tough enough machine to do it.

So my quilts are back at 40% discount, on Etsy.

If there’s something you are in love with, this is the time. And I’m open to offers. I am a motivated seller. If you wish to see more information on my body of work, it’s also on my Portfolio Page. The price on the portfolio does not reflect the sale price, but you can click through from the portfolio page to the Etsy shop.

Also, if you have knowledge about industrial or particularly tough zigzag machines, I’d love to talk with you. I need more options, and would appreciate your expertise. And if you have questions about a particular quilt, let me know.

Thank you!

Ellen

The Machine Kit: Right Where You Need It

I have a tendency to lose things. I have four million screwdrivers somewhere. That does not mean that I can find them when I need them. Samuel Delany said that the coathangers turned into paper clips, just when they were needed as coathangers. I believe that, sort of.

I also don’t organize well. I am ashamed that any time I move, I have 100 boxes that are full of the same mix of threads, machine feet, odd tools, and fabric bits. I’m working towards a better sense of that. I can’t find anything because everything is everything.

Most of my machines come with a space for accessories. That’s nice. Except that they have to fit in all the accessories. Which means they’re kind of big and quite clunky. And they don’t fit on my sewing tables. They also make a tremendous crash if they fall off the table due to the vibration when I sew.

So I tend to have kits for different tasks and for the machines I use for those tasks.

I’m obsessed with these tin pencil boxes from Dollar Tree. They come in different patterns so I know which one I need for each machine.

What is in the box? What I need to clean a machine and the feet I use for the tasks I do with that machine. So each box has oil and a good cleaning brush, Each box has fresh 90-topstitching needles, And an appropriate darning foot.

The tools are not the same. The old 930 and the 770 both take different non-standard screwdrivers. The 770 is prone to thread caught in the take-up lever, so I have a tool in the 770 box for slicing through=thread tangles.

I have a box for my 99 and 66 Singers. They are a short shank machine that needs a foot that is completely different from the Berninas. They’re a straight stitch machine so they aren’t set up for cord binding. I use them mostly as piecing machines.

But I use the other machines for corded binding, so there is a regular pressure foot and a Bernina #3 foot for buttonholes along with the darning foot.

Am I more organized? Bless me, I hope.

How can you be more organized?

  • Analyze the tasks you do in your studio
  • Gather the tools you use for those tasks
  • Find a container and space where you can keep those.

I’m not going to live long enough to sort through a bag of all the sewing machine feet I own to find the one I need every time I stitch. If I have a kit set for each machine, I’ve eliminated the time I waste hunting what I need.

Next organization:

I need a place to put in tools for each machine: pins, clips, scissors, bobbins, hemostat, the feet and tools I don’t use all the time but I want available. I have these already, although I’ve moved machines enough that they’ve taken on the quality of “this is where I dumped stuff.”

Then maybe we organize cutting room. If you haven’t seen me in a while I’ll be under the table, trying to find the floor.

Next stop, will I actually try Swedish Death Cleaning? Probably not.

Finding New Tools: Whose Tool Box do you Take Things From?

As quilters, we are excellent borrowers. Quilting as an art form is relatively new. Art quilting really didn’t exist until the 1970s. Rotary cutters were originally used by fashion semstresses. Surgical seam rippers and hemostats are medical tool that tranformed instantly into quilt tools. Men’s fishing bags, now designed in woman’s colors are the package of choice for sewing kits. We know a good thing when we see it. And we’re not too proud to use it. It doesn’t even need to be pink.

Those tools were life-changing for me. I will never work the same way I did without them. I didn’t personally develop them. Most of them were handed to me by a quilter who knew how life changing they would be.

My dad had a saying about horrible projects. “If it’s too hard, takes too long, or is just too awful, you have the wrong tool.” His other saying was, “You can use a hammer for a saw, but it’s hard on the hammer and what ever you are sawing.”

So this week, I found a new tool box to raid. I’ve been playing for some time with rubbing plates and oil paint sticks. This is another borrowed technique, and I love the textures and colors it adds in my work. But I’ve run out of rubbing plates. I’ve kind of bought all the ones that weren’t Christmas, sentiments, and animal prints. I’ve used them to a lather. I’m working on routing my own patterns. But I’m still looking for anything else that will serve.

So I found metal embossing dies on Amazon.

They are a bit deceptive. They are not in pretty colors. They’re all metal dies used for embossing. They work just fine for oil paint stick rubbing. They are smaller than I expected. But I was most excited that there were weeds and grass flowers in them. I’ve wanted some wild weed rubbing plates forever!


Plain silver, celedon, sand, and metallic white against blue.

I have a brand new set of tools for my tool kit! And a new tool box to raid.

Where does this go?

Version 1.0.0

I read a fabulous book called “The White Garden”. It’s speculative fiction about Virginia Woof. It sugguested planting a white garden in WW2 that you could see in the blackout. I was charmed by it. But my self control is not good enough for me to do that in a garden of my own. I always choose color. It’s a character flaw. The concept still makes a great image. I love these glowing weeds at night. All it needs moths and/or fireflies.

So who’s tool kit do we borrow from? If we’re smart, we’ll grab anything that works. Most of the time you get a look at something being used in a way you’ve never thought of before. Like cutting chiffon with a sodering iron. Yep. That’s a thing. I can’t wait to try it.

Where’s the best place to learn about the unauthorized tools? Other quilters of course!

clover Mini Iron: New Uses for Older Toys

I’m always tickled when I find a new use for an old toy.

I remember when the Clover Mini Irons came out. I was underwhelmed. There are easier ways to press a seam without heat. I know I had one. I can’t remember where it went.

I was working on a background for my ibis. I wanted clouds and a pond seen from above. These are atmospheric elements, mostly made from sheers and lace.

I like working on my photo wall. I can put things up and see them vertically. There is a distortion if you’re designing on a flat piece if it’s over a certain size. I use Steam a Seam 2 which allows me to reposition pieces until I’ve ironed.

But there is this perilous part where I go to move the piece from the wall to the iron. That walk down the hall is papered with scraps of fabric, properly placed on my piece that have fluttered down as I carried it through. It’s an unhappy moment. When I get it down to the ironing table, everything has to be placed again.

As an experiment, I got this mini iron, in the hopes that it could be ironed just a little.

Steam a Seam 2 can be tacked on just with the heat of your hand, and it can also be ironed on permanently with a hot iron.]

I had some safety concerns, but we figured them out pretty quickly. This is an old iron shoe that I used to place the iron on. It’s heatproof, and even when the iron rolls (which it does) it still is on a non-flammable surface.

I was also concerned about burning my Blue Dow wall. It is highly flammable. I was happy to find the shoe did not get hot enough to affect it.

I can also clean the iron shoe with iron cleaner and the Teflon Sheet with a No Stick Scotch-Bright Scrubby. The blue one if for no-stick pans, and won’t harm the pressing cloth

I was surprisingly pleased with the result. When I went to move my piece, it was stuck enough to stay in place. Definitely, I’ll use this little iron again.

What happened Here?: Keeping Process Shots

But the other side of that, at the end of the studio day, you have you, your phone, and whatever happened that day. It’s a natural thing to take some pictures. And in the end of that, you’ve got a record of what happened here.

This is another story about technology. Most of us have come to that moment where your phone is your camera. It took me awhile. First off, they needed to be good enough to be your camera. They’ve been that for a while.

But if your camera is always there, you can always use it. Recently I got a new-to-me Iphone 12 Mini. Apple hasn’t continued a line of mini phones, but for me, they’re ideal. My hands are small and I really can’t hold on to a big phone. But the camera is just as good as you could ask. My latest book, Thread Magic Stitch Vocabulary Book, was completely shot with my phone.

I post these in a regular way on my business Facebook page, in albums, because it’s fun for you to see, and it’s good for me to keep track of.I also regularly put some of them in my blog as I talk about my work. But my other reason is that I think it’s really important to have these for the owner of the quilt. Lately, I’ve been sending those photos with the quilts when I sell them. It’s their baby. They should have baby pictures.

I hope you keep pictures of your work on a daily basis. It’s good documentation. Your phone is right there. Use it.

You’ll find the process shots for many of my quilts on my business Facebook page.

Wringer Washer Woes and Wonders

Don with Frank

I’ve talked before about using old-fashioned appliances for dyeing. They are hidden gems for dyers! They are made especially for cotton and other plant fibers and work brilliantly in processing cotton.

Now that I’m no longer constantly on the road, I don’t dye as much as I used to. I used to dye around 50 yards of fabric a month. Now I dye around 20 per three months. It’s usually for my own use now, although I make some available in my Etsy shop, and you can always call me up and pick out the fabric you’d like on Zoom or Messenger.

But 50 yards or 20, that’s a lot of fabric to wrangle around. I’ve written about mangles. They are awesome ironing tools. But the other ancient appliance I depend on is a wringer washer.

Am I washing out with it? Ah, no. Cotton has to be soaked in solution and then wrung out. I don’t quite have the space even in a full kitchen dye space to wrangle 20 yards in the sink. Enter, the wringer washer. It will hold ample washing soda solution and fabric, and then wring your fabric out for you.

Unfortunately, like most appliances from the 40s and 50s, they’re a little old and cranky by now. When my beloved Maytag started to smoke, it was old enough to put in for social security as well as vote. We went hunting another wringer washer.

It’s not as easy as it sounds. Most of the ones out there have retired to being lawn ornaments. We found one that looked like it was in good shape except for the rust and the fact that it wasn’t moving when we plugged it in. A parts machine, as Don put it.

It seemed like an easy thing to fix. Maytag made the same wringer washer for around 40 years. These washers were 20 years apart, but almost identical. But we needed to meld them into Frankenwasher! A it of this, a bit of that, put together.

We come to our heros of this adventure. I called around Galesburg, looking for someone who might help us with the frankenwasher project. I got a resounding no. No one had wringer washers. No one knew how to fix a wringer washer. No one would want one, would they?

Until I called Dillons Appliance. I love mom and pop stores. I got Sam who knew is father, Jack, used to work on them.. Jack talked his grandson, Jackson through it. And Jackson, who is a brilliant young mechanic, learned from his grandfather how to fix a wringer washer. IT LIVES!

So the moral of the story is don’t let anyone tell you no. All they are telling you is that they can’t help. Keep going till you find someone who says yes.

And find the really good mom and pop businesses that do say yes, because they are treasures, not only because they are willing to help, but because they have wells of knowledge others may have forgotten, and are there for you.


Do check out Dillons if you need an appliance in Galesburg. Frank and Frankson are my heros.

 343 S Chambers St. GalesburgIL 61401. · (309) 343-0476. 

The other hero of all of this is Don, who is willing to drive all over the countryside searching for ancient appliances and his friend Joe who has moved more appliances with Don than I can count. Did I tell you I’m a lucky girl?

telling the Story: How backgrounds Change Everything

Today I needed a color break. I’ve been frantically finishing the Stitch Vocabulary Book for three weeks, and I was terribly tired of computer work. So I sorted out the fabric I intend to bring to sale at Gems of the Prairie in May, That meant I set aside the pieces I wanted to work up.

Of course, that was an immense pile, Somewhere in it, I found this owl.

He really wasn’t lost. I knew he was around. I just wasn’t sure what pile. He was the third of three owls I made for a quilt that simply never worked.

I found several pieces that I thought would be amazing backgrounds. But a very strange thing happened. It wasn’t just that the fabric made the owl feel different. They actually started telling really different stories about him.

So this had a golden open door he’s going through.

Investigating a flower in the garden. Perhaps with small mice or butterflies.

Flying toward a red moon. Or is it a rose?

Is that a fire or a sunset? Is he flying towards it or in flight away from it?

Or somehow a moonlit winter night. Perhaps with snow. Or a flowering tree with moths?

I’m always astonished by hand-dyed fabric. It’s so versatile and offers so much to design. But I hadn’t seen it as a backdrop to a story. And that’s exactly what it did.

Which will I choose? I’m not sure yet. Normally I’m drawn to color. But there’s something fabulous about that winter moon. And while I work on it, perhaps it will tell me its story.