New Spruce

Last week at least eight mature trees were cut in front of the church I attend. Some of them were growing too close to the fence, and some threatened a walkway. Others obstructed the view of the building from the road. Understanding all this somehow doesn’t lessen my sense of loss. I really hate to see any tree cut down. The name of today’s block is New Spruce. It’s a variation on a traditional pattern called Tree of Life. It’s just a bit complicated, with lots of half-square triangles that are kind of picky about when and where they’re placed. The block is meant to be set on point, so when you look at it, you should probably tilt your head 45 degrees to the left. There. That’s better.

Autry Square

Today’s block is called Autry Square. It’s named for Gene Autry, The Singing Cowboy. Back in the Saddle Again was his signature song, but you’re probably much more familiar with his Christmas songs: Here Comes Santa Claus, Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. Autry was also a big deal on the silver screen. He died in 1998, just weeks after the death of another singing cowboy, Roy Rogers. I like the look of this block, the way the yellow rails seem to float above a bordered diamond. But I can’t picture making a whole quilt of these blocks. They’d be more trouble than they’re worth.

Dove at the Window

Before we moved here, we knew England was a wetter, greener place than the Midwest. We knew there would be more trees, and we were excited at the prospect of seeing badgers and hedgehogs. But the birds were a bit of a surprise. There are just so many! Most of them are familiar: doves, magpies, sparrows, blackbirds, mallards, crows. But English robins are nothing like the ones at home. They’re smaller and rounder, and they blush all the way up to their faces. Pheasants and Canada geese were brought here centuries ago as game birds, and they seem to be thriving. Today’s block, Dove at the Window, is for the dove that watched me have breakfast from my neighbor's roof. The block is just a little clumsy. If I had it to do over again, I’d have made it with more flying geese and fewer half square triangles.

Cat and Mice

John and I have owned cats nearly the whole time we’ve been married. At the moment, though, we only have a dog; a Westie/Schnauzer mix named Duffy. He’s a delightful companion, whether we're playing ball, taking walks or just watching TV together. A cat would get into my sewing things, track kitty litter through the house, cough up hairballs, leave PARTS of mice on the doorstep, and leap on the kitchen counter when my back is turned. So why do I miss having a cat in the house? I wish I knew. One of our neighbors has a beautiful tuxedo cat. I see him making his rounds nearly every morning. I don’t know where he’s going or why, but he’s clearly not pleased to find me watching him. Today’s block is called Cat and Mice. Interesting name. If there’s only one cat here, then there are five mice. And one mouse is INSIDE the cat!

Greek Cross

I had several tiny triangle-shaped scraps of red and white fabric left over from the Feathered Star block I posted last week. I could have tossed them into my scrap bag. But most of the contents of that bag are 1" or 2" strips. I was thinking of using those strips in a pioneer Log Cabin quilt, a bright Pineapple or an Americana Courthouse Steps. There's no place in those designs for little red or white triangles. So I held them back, waiting for inspiration to strike. Today they became a Greek Cross quilt block. I used every single triangle, and I only had to cut a bit more white fabric to make it happen. The thing I like best about this block is the way the four positive Shoo-Fly designs create a negative Shoo-Fly in the center. It might be fun to make an entire quilt with blocks like these. Something else to do with all these scraps.

Scottish Cross

This Scottish Cross block is in honor of Robert Burns, whose 252nd birthday is today. The day is traditionally celebrated with a formal meal involving haggis and a good deal of whiskey. I'm not fond of either so we're having chicken enchiladas for supper. We may even make root beer floats later. Two other  Burns Night traditions are the playing of bagpipes and reciting Burns' poetry. As I have no pipes (yet), I'll share a snip from "To A Louse, On Seeing One On A Lady's Bonnet At Church," cleaned up a bit so any Yank may read it:

"Oh would some power the small gift give us to see ourselves as others see us.
It would from many a blunder free us, and foolish notion:
What airs in dress and gait would leave us, and even devotion."

Mariner's Compass

I've wanted to make a Mariner's Compass since I first saw one. I find the narrow angles and clean lines very attractive. The block in my mind is perfect. The center lines up where it should and the points look sharp enough to draw blood. It's a shame this real block can't compare with the imaginary one. It might have turned out better if I'd followed a printed pattern. But I wanted one that would fit inside the ribbon border, and I couldn't find a pattern the right size. So I drew one of my own. I read somewhere that when he was in his late eighties, Michelangelo scribbled, "Ancora Imparo" in the margin of a sketchbook. It means "I'm still learning." It's important to remind ourselves that we're all works in progress. I'll make another Mariner's Compass someday. While it probably won't be perfect either, I'm sure it will improve on my first try.