Sunday, January 28, 2018
The Rug Hooker Kit Makers.
I know, that's not how you remember it but just go with me on this.
Over the past few months we've had several suggestions of offering a Rug Hooking class.
I contemplate. I am a hooker, of rugs. I'm not an experienced hooker of rugs by anyones imagination.
I'm not confident I can teach anyone to hook.
This is where my dear friend Hazel steps to the plate. Now she's a hooker. Of rugs. She also strips.
You know, the wool....strips it into wool worms for hooking.
I know I can come up with a design, the wool and other needed sundries. Then we just set a class date, get things together and ready and just like magic we're teaching a Rug Hooking class.
Sure, just like magic. That's what it was.
I'm not real sure why the magic waited so long to step in but at one point I know that both Hazel and me were begging it to show it's beautiful face.
We, Hazel and me, are somewhat "kindred" in many ways. We love many of the same things.
Early country colonial home decor, wool, gardening, stitching and most importantly our family, friends and of course Dogs.
This might be where I should also add that we're both a bit "fussy" about things. This would include the making of the Rug Hooking Kits.
Mind you, we have both drawn patterns onto cloth before. We have everything we need.
We have the proper cloth, the design properly prepared, light box, marking pen. Everything we need.
With the exception of having our wits about us I'm guessing. For the life of us, Hazel and me, we couldn't put it all together to get pattern to cloth in the manner required. It almost became painful.
That's where the laughter came in, it kept the pain at bay. We tried this. Then we tried that. Then we tried something else and with each try and each failure we laughed a little more.
And then....then the magic showed up. Stepped right in and waved some wits at us. That's when I remembered the transfer pen. I'm sure the looks on both our faces at this moment were priceless.
A simple little transfer pen, the magic lending me the wits to remember it and yup, you guessed it.
Just like magic the patterns went to cloth. Some of the wool was in strips. There was zigzagging to be done, hooks to be sorted, kits to be packed and we, Hazel and me, were out of time.
The moral of this story....no matter how simple things might seem. Nothing is ever just like magic!
Just ask us. Hazel and me.
I did mention that we were both a bit fussy about things...
Just a peek at how neat we left everything. Persnickety are we. Hazel and me.
UPDATE just in. The kits are complete the mess is deplete.
Not sure about the Butcher and Baker, but
The Rug Hooker Kit Makers are tucking this day filled with sweet memories and magic away in our hearts to revisit with fondness when a smile, a little magic or the thought of a
dear friend is needed.
From the Lane,
Hazel and me
P.S. Rug Hooking Class here on the Lane, Tuesday. Stay tuned!
Friday, January 5, 2018
a strong woman. Kind, loving, giving. Feisty and tough when needed.
Mother of six wonderful children, my husband being one of them. Wayne, but she often called him "Lee" and when she called him "Wayne Lee Mario Joseph", he listened just a bit quicker and more closely. That was the feisty coming out.
A young bride and Mother. A good bride and Mother.
Loved deeply by her husband, her children and their children.
She gave the biggest, tightest hugs you can imagine. Always. Baked the best Swedish rolls and cinnamon rolls..... and the Crepes, oh my. Crocheted the best afghans. Loved her coffee, a good Vodka Gimlet and a sip of Bailey's now and then. How could you not love her.
Treated me like a daughter. Always. Never ended a phone call without an "I love you".
I will cherish the memory of our last visit.
She stood on her frail legs, wrapped me in her arms in a hug so hard that we almost ended up back in the chair together. Her words went something like this.....
"I know when I'm gone my Lee will be in good hands. Take good care of him"
I responded with tears. I walked to the door, turned to smile and give a wave.
"Love you Baby Girl"
A goodbye I will always remember and cherish. Always.
Soar the Heavens Mom
You are loved.
Alice "Ione" Schwalbach
March 1936 ~ January 2018
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