The High Holiday season drew to a close this week, but unfortunately my cold has decided to hang on. Between the truncated work weeks with only three and a half available workdays and my body needing to nap often, fitting in work was a bit of a challenge.
I began work on Alice's tallit, embellishing the ribbon that will become the stripes on her tallit.
This is what the ribbons look like right off the roll. I began working on the red and black striped ribbon. First I embroidered an orange cross stitch.
The I added a gold star stitch.
For some reason the roll of red checked ribbon decided to go into hiding. I can't find that roll of ribbon anywhere.
Rather than panicking, I unpicked the same ribbon from a tablecloth I had made a while back.
Normally, undoing stitching is a job I loathe, but being sick leaves me with a very tiny brain. My tiny brain is exactly the right size for unpicking a mile of stitching. I now have enough ribbon to trim the tallit.
Despite having a tiny brain right now, I still have the need to use my hands. I took on a small slightly silly project.
Every marriage is in some ways a mixed marriage, a mixing of two very different family cultures. Both my parents and my in-laws grew up in poverty during the depression. How they reacted to that poverty is very different.
My parents hated to have shabby things in their home. My in-laws hated to toss anything if it could possibly have any use. A towel with worn selvedges in my parent's home would be demoted to a swim towel or a schmatta. My in-laws would see the same towel as being perfectly good and would overlook the threadbare bits until it disintegrated int he hand.
I had noticed that some of the towels from my mother's home that I had used to wrap some breakables that I had inherited from her had become shredded at the selvedges. I found the shredding to be annoying. My husband saw nice towels with a slight flaw. I suppose that if I lived on my own I might have donated them. I don't live on my own. I am in a marriage.
Marriages are made up of compromises. I trimmed off the ratty selvedges and trimmed the towels with WWII era olive green twill tape and some gold braid.
The combination ought not to work, but it looks pretty attractive. We now have one hand towel and one bath sheet so embellished. It reminds me of some of the towels my mother would put out when we had company.
I am also thinking of the dress I need to make for an upcoming family wedding. I am thinking of combing a floral embroidered
mesh and a sequined fabric. I think I like this fabric combination.
My doctor asked me to get my blood tested. On my way I was able to take some photos of the plaza in front of our subway station. My husband has named it Spare Change Plaza, because you usually can't walk through it without being asked for spare change.
Today though rather than being asked for change I was blown away by the fall foliage.
Before I went to get my blood tested, I started the challah dough
and my son braided and baked the challot a few hours later.
I made us a batch of chicken cooked over a bed of shredded vegetables.
Hopefully soon I won't need to nap twice a day anymore.
Shabbat Shalom!
I began work on Alice's tallit, embellishing the ribbon that will become the stripes on her tallit.
Rather than panicking, I unpicked the same ribbon from a tablecloth I had made a while back.
Normally, undoing stitching is a job I loathe, but being sick leaves me with a very tiny brain. My tiny brain is exactly the right size for unpicking a mile of stitching. I now have enough ribbon to trim the tallit.
Despite having a tiny brain right now, I still have the need to use my hands. I took on a small slightly silly project.
Every marriage is in some ways a mixed marriage, a mixing of two very different family cultures. Both my parents and my in-laws grew up in poverty during the depression. How they reacted to that poverty is very different.
My parents hated to have shabby things in their home. My in-laws hated to toss anything if it could possibly have any use. A towel with worn selvedges in my parent's home would be demoted to a swim towel or a schmatta. My in-laws would see the same towel as being perfectly good and would overlook the threadbare bits until it disintegrated int he hand.
I had noticed that some of the towels from my mother's home that I had used to wrap some breakables that I had inherited from her had become shredded at the selvedges. I found the shredding to be annoying. My husband saw nice towels with a slight flaw. I suppose that if I lived on my own I might have donated them. I don't live on my own. I am in a marriage.
Marriages are made up of compromises. I trimmed off the ratty selvedges and trimmed the towels with WWII era olive green twill tape and some gold braid.
I am also thinking of the dress I need to make for an upcoming family wedding. I am thinking of combing a floral embroidered
My doctor asked me to get my blood tested. On my way I was able to take some photos of the plaza in front of our subway station. My husband has named it Spare Change Plaza, because you usually can't walk through it without being asked for spare change.
Today though rather than being asked for change I was blown away by the fall foliage.
and my son braided and baked the challot a few hours later.
I made us a batch of chicken cooked over a bed of shredded vegetables.
Hopefully soon I won't need to nap twice a day anymore.
Shabbat Shalom!
My Granny was From your in-laws club. A threadbare kitchen cloth would be cut, the edges refolded and sewed into a neat edge. Nice serviettes cut into halves or rounds, small holes embroidered over and the edges adorned with her crocheted designs. She would have loved your idea ❤️
ReplyDeleteAnna, you are so right. I have learned so much from the mending on some of the old European linens I have inherited.
ReplyDelete