things to do at home (or, a small staycation)

Tour Toronto like a visitor.  I love this city.

Visit the ballet.  Beautiful.  Also, why does it look so easy when they do it?  (After effect: think momentarily of joining dance lessons before realising what you're thinking.  Ha!)

Get a massage.  Heavenly.

Cuddle with Gordon.  (Yay!)

Make jam.

Sew some pillows. And a new bath mat.

To quote Dorothy, 'there's no place like home.'

Jammin'

Remember this?  It surprised me even that I found time so soon to follow through on my pledge to preserve some summer freshness all year long.

Today, I made jam.

Well, I made strawberry vanilla sauce.  But I'm sure it's just as delicious as the jam would have been had it jelled.

I used my friend Jodi's recipe, and, being the overachiever I am, thought that I'd try to leave out the pectin as many do these days.  And therein lies my mistake; for my first experience in canning, having a little help from commercial pectin certainly wouldn't have hurt.

I can say without hesitation that these ten little jars of strawberry sauce/runny jam have got me hooked.  Despite so much going on (bubbling berries and sugar! sterilizing jars!), the process of turning fruit into preserves, it turns out, is good for the soul.  Slicing, measuring, stirring, pouring: such simple things turn into something amazing and made by me.  There's a real sense of pride in that.

I wish I played guitar

Every once in a while, a song comes along that is so good I wish I wrote it (even though I'm not a musician).  I've been playing Tift Merritt's Mixtape over and over and over again.  So good.

a mini-tower + the importance of pressing

I expected  my 225 half-square triangles for this quilt to look a little more impressive, but my mini-tower of quilt blocks isn't bad.

It is proof that progress is being made on my zig zag quilt, if slowly.  My next step is finger pressing, which, I will fully admit, is the part of the quilt-making process that I'm least patient with. I am guilty of, as my friend Johanna puts it, 'mashing' my quilt blocks with an iron.  Sorry, Johanna. 

But I'm committed this time to pressing my quilt blocks properly (finger pressing + light pressing with an iron), I swear.  I learned my lesson when putting together my buzzsaw quilt blocks; it's amazing how much of a difference pressing your blocks properly (i.e., with patience) can make when it comes time to fit all of those lovely blocks together.


And now, I'm off to finger press some zig zag blocks (while watching Glee!).

The Process Pledge

Over the last few weeks, I kept noticing this badge pop up on blogs:

I was officially intrigued.  I mean, so much of what I'm doing is in process, and it feels like projects so rarely gets finished (they do, but the finished to unfinished ratio is something I'm not quite willing to admit to just yet).  Perhaps this pledge was for me?

Since I began this blog, there have been times when I'm totally unsure what to write about.  I mean, do people really want to see my unfinished quilts?  Honestly?  But the idea is refreshing: as someone still new to quilting, I appreciate anything that can help me understand a little more about what quilting is and means to other people.  And each time I write about my own quilts, I learn a little bit more about myself.

It turns out a lot of other people feel that way, too, so  Rossie of Fresh Modern Quilts started the process pledge.

So here it is, officially.  I'm taking the plunge.

I, Katherine, pledge to talk more about my processes, even when I can’t quite put them in the in words or be sure I’m being totally clear.   I’m going to put my thinking and my gut feelings out there.

Built by Wendy Dirndl Dress

Not long ago, I picked up Wendy Mullin's new book, Built By Wendy Dresses. I could hardly resist after flipping through it: so. many. cute. dresses.  I live in them through the summer, and it's already been a scorching month here in Toronto.

At the same time, I picked up some of this fabric from the workroom:

Perfect for a dress, non? I chose the 'dirndl' dress and set about cutting my pieces.

I've not made any patterns from any of the other books in the Sew U series; instructions were clear and well-illustrated, although the pattern did require some alterations.  The front darts were a bit off when sewn, and the waist seemed a bit high on the dress.  I also cut the skirt fuller so I'd have more gathering. But because I loved the basic pattern so much, I didn't make any of Wendy's suggested alterations--although I will, very soon. The best part?  The dress came together so quickly; in just a few hours, I had a brand new frock.

I think this might just be my new favourite dress.  Billowy cotton skirt? Check.  Demure top? Yep.  Unexpected pattern? Absolutely.   In other words, perfect for me.

I heart rhubarb

I love rhubarb, I really do.  Growing up, my grandmother had a huge patch of the most wonderful rhubarb, much more than she would ever use. Each year, she would make rhubarb crisps and cakes; if my sister and I were lucky enough to be there when she was cutting the rhubarb up, we were rewarded with our very own stalks and a bowl of sugar for dipping.  The combination of tart + sweet was perfect and delicious.

At the first Evergreen Brick Works Farmers' Market of the season, I snagged a few bunches of rhubarb with the intention of making muffins.  (By the way, if you're from Toronto and haven't been to the Brick Works, go now!  It's an amazing spot, and the market is fabulous.)

I wasted very little time in making muffins.  The recipe is quick and easy.  Quite frankly, I forgot an ingredient (the vanilla) and they were still delicious.

I'll apologize in advance: this recipe has come from my mother, and I'm sure at one time or another, it came from someone, somewhere, and maybe even out of a book, but the original source is long gone.

Rhubarb Muffins

1 1/2 cups brown sugar
1 egg
1 cup milk
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 cup butter
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups rhubarb, cut into half-inch pieces

Mix all of your ingredients together in a large bowl.  Transfer the mixture to a lined muffin pan (if you'd prefer a rhubarb cake, use a 9 x 12 baking pan).  The recipe calls for the batter to be topped with a mixture of 1/2 cup brown sugar and 1 teaspoon of cinnamon, but I usually reserve some of the brown sugar/cinnamon mixture and add it after the muffins/cake comes out of the oven.  Cook at 350 degrees fahrenheit for 20 (ish) minutes for muffins, or 40-50 minutes for the cake version.  

Enjoy!