Monday, February 2, 2015

February 2015 As each year unfolds....

Results from the Peace Country Spinners and Weavers questionnaire are being tabulated and discussed.  Thanks to all for the response.



As each year unfolds
we weave more of the
miracle and wonder
of who we are into
the fabric of life....
...and all of life benefits
 
                                                                               Tree of Life Inspirations
                                                                                www.treed.com
 


WEAVING

Wrapped in sensible all-wool duffel coat
The woman who writes poems
        awaits a quick price check
        on two green bottles
              of All-New
              Diet 7 UP

Behind her eyes, kaleidoscope pictures
        of daffodils and conflicts
translate to clipped consonants and velvet vowels.

Shrugged into a Dacron hockey-club bomber jacket
The woman who knits sweaters
        leans on her grocery cart
        awaiting the electronic
                  "Have a good day"
                    Safeway till.

In her hand, Knitting and Crochet News
        drapes dark-eyed sylphs
in clinging capes and feather stitch shawls.

In the end it comes to one
Woman weaving visions in words and wool.

Mary Bomford
 


CREATIVE HANDWORK

     Star-patterned, geometric patchwork furls
From pricked and calloused fingers; counterpanes
With bright disharmony the precious old quilt,
Dinged and dimmed by countless launderings,
Greyed and snagged, thinned and stained by years
Of boys' "Forgot-to-wash" bare feet,
Puppy paws and kitten claws, new knives and scissors,
Cod-liver oil, fruit juice and milk,
The unheralded tummy-upsets that beset childhood.

Finished!

     How once she had despised
This frugal necessary craft,
Passed on to lonely, home-sick World-War-One brides
By women of old Peace River homesteads!
     For she'd been rectory-reared in "Old Land."
Soft hands touched water-colours, books and flowers,
Wrought needle-point and lace.

                                                           Now, lonely again,
But prideful, she pats the puffs between
The small-stitched quilted lines.

                                                    Gingham, muslin, print, pique.
The not-quite white of long saved flour-sacking
Snagging one a woof of sleazy rayon--
(She shouldn't have pieced that in
                                                       But it is gay,
Metallic bright with lustrous sheen.)
                                                                      Oh!
Is that a thick place in the filling? No,
It's only that the old one's lumpy. Turn the new one down.
That long rent, neatly base-ball stitched, is smooth
With faded denim reinforcement underneath.
(It tore when Tommy parachuted from the porch.
New nylon failed him too, on D-Day.)
But here a cut, scissored while young bones mended.

Pulled away from quick catch-stitching, ejects
A wad of wool-batt.
                     Quilts new-released are always
Smaller than the frame. This one would not cover
If she had not--there!--trimmed off the old
To square the corner, burned in Bobby's first
Experiment with fire. ("A too-short fuse,"
His buddy wrote them after Arnheim.)
Should she have pieced more border? No;

These days you don't get flour sacking. Those paper bags
Are useless.
With print at eighty-nine (the cheapest
That will wear). you don't buy more than needed
Now that John.....
                              NO!
                                 No, don't weep!
                                                           John wouldn't
Wish it. John loved shine and glitter...Brass nail-heads
On the harness...tinsel on cards...rhinestones on wrists...
Sparkle on snow...satin...AND STARS.
John said "They hide a deal of dullness."

The Coleman's dimming tells that fuel is gone.
It's long past midnight. Up the blind.
The sky's star-studded order domes the earth.

"Oh God,
From Thine unlimited supply has Thou designed
Unskimped ethereal gauze of ombre blue,
And sequinned it with cosmic scintillation,
Veiling from Thine eyes the dulling of the
Earth's bright beauty that man, still young
And mischievous, has wrought
With torch and blast and knife,
Heedless of handwork Divine?"

DOROTHEA HORTON CALVERLEY

Both poems are from Treeline II North Country Writers Editors Maidie Hilmo and Harry Moran Fort St. John Dawson Creek Treeline Press 1983.  These two poems are too wonderful to be forgotten.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Purse was woven with fabric samples, all acrylic, satins, suede. Two narrow braids were tacked together at intervals to make a wider handle and dyed to match.  The button was found at a knitting shop in Tofino, BC.  Sharon coincidentally provided the suede fabric to match.  4/8 cotton warp tied on to my existing shadow weave warp. One shot fabric and one shot 4/8 cotton.  I learned from this project that you can over dye 4/8 cotton once.  The cotton shreds with the second dyeing and is ruined.





  • Remember to send Rene reports and articles for PCSW Newsletter by the end of February.
  • Ask that question at the back of your mind for the Tell Me About column in Threads Along the Peace by Marjo. 
  • North Peace Spinners' and Weavers' Fibre Fling at Peace Gallery North, Fort St. John, April 10-25, 2015.  Reception on Friday evening of April 10.
  • PCSW Spinning Day at Cheryl Peebles' Studio and Gallery, 10244 99th Ave, Fort St. John, April 11, 2015. Pre-registration is required.  Non-members are welcome.
  •  Remember Theo Moorman samples for exchange due at the Spring meeting. This exchange is open to participants of last year's workshop.
  • PCSW Tapestry Workshop with Elaine Duncan at Blueberry Camp, close to Prespatou BC, September 2015. 1358@telus.net for more information.