Addison Embroidery
at the
Vicarage

Grandmother’s garden patchwork quilt (hand pieced and hand quilted)

I was inspired to make this quilt after seeing pictures of a sofa throw made by the children’s author Lucy Boston for a sofa in her house, the manor at Hemingford Grey. The manor has become known to recent generations of children as  the house Greene Knowe about which she wrote so magically in the series of the same name (six books published between 1954 and 1976).  See the quilt here.  Like Lucy Boston, I enjoy patchwork done the English way with the pieces folded over paper. I found this relaxing and it fitted in with sitting talking to my children while they played around me. Once I got going on this quilt, daughter No 2 joined in the folding over papers and the piecing and begged that it should be a quilt for her bed. It seemed a good idea at the time so on we ploughed in full agreement that it would be just right for her room.

Grandmother’s garden quilt: detail of hexagon patches showing Souleiado and Laura Ashley fabrics

However, it soon became clear how well the colours also worked in our living room and how in need of a curtain we were for the french doors there. Alas for poor daughter No 2, there was also a plentiful supply of the right fabrics, so, like Topsy, the quilt just grew and grew. Soon, it was pretty obvious that it was far too big for the singlest of single beds and wicked mother that I was, I had to admit I had another use in mind for it. Stoically, daughter No 2 accepted this reversal of fortune – she had already had the little house quilt (seen here) made for her and as even as we sewed this one, the little house quilt was in place  hanging above the non-quilt bearing bed. Still, we all like a change and she was probably a bit fed up of the rows of unsophisticated houses in baby dress fabrics, so I rashly promised her a new bed quilt – a promise I have yet to deliver on. 

Grandmother’s garden patchwork curtain

Once sandwiched with batting, the quilt was simply hand quilted following the outlines of the hexagons and completed with a bias binding of a midnight blue Laura Ashley fabric sprigged with roses.  I machined a thin band of the very simplest of curtain tape about 6″ (15 cm) from the top so that once gathered the top flounced over and revealed the full glory of the lining. (Umm not visibly in the photo above – I’m sure the lining did flop over more noticeably. Note to self, next time allow more for the flouncing.) The curtain was then hung from a black metal curtain rail with scrolled ends and the metal rings running on metal rail ensured a satisfying sound as you swished it across the window. 

Grandmother’s garden quilt showing detail of hexagons and hand quilting

It was a very successful curtain, performing sterling service in winter when it was drawn over a pair of rather badly fitted and draughty doors. Backed in a glorious Liberty lawn of the warmest yellow (found in the sale; I’ve never seen a print and colour anything like it before or since), the curtain filtered even the lowest of light and turned it into a Claudian glow of of the most uplifting gold. The poor picture above (taken from an estate agent’s brochure – all photograph albums went missing) gives just the slightest hint of this.

Grandmother’s garden quilt showing golden Liberty lawn backing fabric

Today, the quilt curtains a landing window in a very different style of house but works equally well. Of course, it is now much too long and forms puddles of fabric beneath the window when drawn. I do sometimes worry about visitors on night time perambulations getting caught up in the great swathes of fabric and plummeting to their death below. To ensure this doesn’t happen, most of the time the curtain is firmly retrained by a black silk tie back. (Blogged here.)

Grandmother’s garden patchwork curtain with rose embroidered tie back.

Eventually I will make  a blind  and then we won’t need to draw the curtain (well not for warmth as we are double glazed, cavity wall insulated and air-souce heat-pumped) though not drawing a curtain does seem a bit ridiculous.  A blind is, however, necessary as I have noticed the quilt is beginning to fade a little from times of full sunlight. A blind would also be seemly to protect guests crossing the landing in their night attire when they go to the loo. (It’s rather dreadful that I put care for the condition of my curtain before consideration of the privacy of  my guests.) In its previous situation, the curtain looked lovely with deep buttery yellow walls but it looks equally good alongside staircase walls of  honeyed terracotta paint. Adaptability is one of the bonuses of patchwork curtains.

Grandmother’s flower garden quilt – used as a curtain but having a brief airing in the garden

Once again, photographs of the quilt taken in the sunlight dilute  the colours and make it look quite different. 

Wedding monogram: white embroidery cotton on white linen. Double monogram of F & M

I finished this monogram just in time for our Art & Craft Exhibition but too late to be taken to the wedding on the 6th of  July. I do try to meet deadlines but I am  not often successful – now I come to think of it all my 4 children were born round about 2 weeks late – a random thought perhaps but I do sometimes wonder whether it’s a deep seated character trait. (Yes, I make the vicar late for church [well, later than he would wish to be], I’m late out of the house for the bus in the morning, late handing forms in, etc.) But I can be on time for big things like exams, special journeys by plane or train, dinner parties (though not drinks parties), doctors’ and dental appointments and meeting people for lunch. So, perhaps it’s all to do with priorities. Ummm.

As I have a tricky design of wisteria to embroider on a coat that is occupying me, this post will be short. I thought it might be interesting to see how the design for this monogram evolved. I began by settling on the initials and a wreath of roses but I was so carried away by the roses that I didn’t notice how wrong the monogram was – much too fat and clunky.

Abandoned design for F & M monogram: too F & M too contrived; wreath of roses ungainly

Dissatisfied but unable to work out what to change, I did the only thing you can do in such circumstances and put it to one side while I got on with something less challenging. Sometime later I came back to it and realised a complete redesign was needed. The letters would be more elegant if squashed up a little  and given a bit of a forward slant. Then the curve of the garland would need to be more oval than circular and the roses pruned  on ‘less is more’ principle.

F & M monogram: final design

I transfer the design to linen by placing the inked-in outline (seen above) beneath the piece of linen on a light box. The design is then traced on to the linen with an ordinary pencil (probably whatever type comes to hand, but sharp and not too soft).  Next, I tack a piece Vilene Stitch- n-Tear to the back of the linen which stabilises the embroidery, that is it stops the fabric puckering up as you sew, and means that I don’t need to use an embroidery hoop which I don’t like. You can only stab up and down on a hoop. I like putting the needle in and out in a single action. For some things like gold embroidery, a hoop is, however, essential. On a sewing machine I now zig zag the raw edges of the piece of linen which I’ve cut to a size to accommodate the design plus sufficient to fold over the mounting card. Threading up a needle with 2 strands of embroidery cotton, I now pick out the pencil lines of the design with small running stitches and when this is done, I gently wash the fabric to get rid of the pencil marks.  When nearly dry I iron this and leave to one side to completely dry.

F&M wedding monogram: detail

I now pad out the areas like the letters and the flowers with more running stitch so that the design will have some volume and only then do I get on with satin stitch. As I go, I make little adjustments to the design, often adding a leaf or curly stem here and there. When sewing is finished I aim not to wash it another time but if it is necessary I will do. If the embroidery is on a cushion, another wash won’t hurt as I need to be sure that it will wash well anyway. I don’t sew in conditions comparable to those in which the royal wedding dress was made and anyway think life is as much about black cats on knees as it is about loving embroidery.

F&M hand embroidered monogram: detail

To maintain the depth of the satin stitch, the finished embroidery is steam pressed face down on to  a fluffy towel and then left to dry completely. A box frame in which the embroidery can breath is the best choice. Cut a piece of acid free card just a little smaller than the inside of the frame. Lay the card on to the centre of the embroidery and fold over the edges of the two long sides of the fabric. Now, with a very long thread lace these two edges together, pulling the thread as tight as you can. Repeat this for the two short sides. As you can see from my photograph below, mine is not as tight as it might be as I was rushing to get it done for the exhibition. But it is fine and the front is nice and sufficiently taut. Some people mitre the corners but I have never felt it necessary.

Hand embroidery showing the interlacing of the edges when mounted on acid free card

Photographing white on white is exasperating as no two photos look the same colour reflecting small changes in sun through clouds, etc. Today, this is the best I can do. Now back to embroidering white wisteria on to a blue coat.

Wedding monogram: F&M hand embroidered with roses on linen