#dear jane quilt

[flintandpyrite]

@housefreak @sewpahdewpah here you go! A modern version of the Dear Jane quilt, done in brilliant colors and displayed at the New England Quilt Museum. The actual Dear Jane is in the Bennington Museum in Vermont and is only sometimes on display as it’s very fragile, but for people unfamiliar, it looks like this:

Patterns for all 169+ square blocks plus all the border flags can be found in various places, including this book (check your local library!)

[tru-makes-quilts]

My mom went to go see the Dear Jane quilt in Bennington, VT. She was sooo excited, it was adorable.

[creations-by-chaosfay]

Do you have recommendations for a sampler quilt pattern? i've always wanted to make one but I've never seen a pattern that really stood out to me

(asking from main blog bc i cant seem to switch to my quilting side blog)

Journey to Paducah is a free option and big. I plan on making this at some point.

Seasonal Sampler is a very simple quilt, also free, and I intend to make this as well. In my case, I will be using Steelers prints and make this for my husband.

Gnome Angel has several samplers, not free, and again I'll make one of these. I had started one a few years ago, but started to hate the fabrics I chose, so I gave the blocks to someone else. 100 Blocks in 100 Days is what she's most known for.

The Farmers Wife 1920s Sampler Quilt and 1930s Sampler Quilt are excellent options as well. Not free, but 100% worth every dollar. I have the 1930s pattern; it's 100% FPP.

Then there's the ultimate sampler: Dear Jane. This is a free version of the pattern. Look into the history of the Dear Jane quilt and story behind the idea. This is something that has me seriously intimidated, and you'll see why when you hit the link. Fat Quarter Shop has a kit available, but it's nearly $400. It's paper piecing, both foundation and English. I know a quilter who's been working on hers for the last 10 or so years, 100% handsewn.

[threesails]

Hand quilted coasters! Not bound yet, I’m taking my time. At first I was thinking I’d keep making squares until I had enough for a dear Jane but then they were just sitting there, all wonky as hell, and I wanted something small to work on.

[spacesapphi]

There's Always Time

WAOW uploading my first Stardew fic, surrounding mostly Marnie this time!

Synopsis: Today's the day Marnie decides she'll get Lewis to go public with their relationship. She's determined to let nothing get her down, but the day seems to have other plans for her. Perhaps a certain adventure can remind her of the good in life

Word count: 8,412

CW for mentions of a previous death and drinking

Story below the cut!

Important note! A few parts of this fic have Pennsylvania Dutch words written in it, so I have a small translation section up here. Keep in mind that I am fairly a beginner at the language and doing my best grammatically given the few resources that exist 🙏

Distelfink- a folk art symbol of a bird that represents happiness and fortune

Aendi - Auntie

“Ach, schlecht exempel” - Ugh, bad example

Schatz- treasure/dear, used often by parents towards their kids

“lieb dehr beed” - love you both

Gottverdam - damn it!

zwieschpalt- troublemaker

onto the fic!

Mondays were supposed to be a calm day off for Marnie, a day where she had time to herself, things to look forward to besides her normal chores. Jas would be at school, Shane at work, and she would be able to bask in the peace and quiet. Usually she’d take time to work on her quilting, or go chat with the women in town at Pierre’s, pretending to shop as they gossipped. This Monday was special, however. She had a date with Lewis tonight, and she had a very important question for him.

It seemed every person and creature in this household had other ideas for this particular morning, however. She had been woken up at 7 am to the sound of a disagreement brewing in the kitchen, a sour start to her morning.

“Jas you need to put your shoes on, now.”

“But I wanna go say hi to the cows before we go! Pleaaaaaase!”

“We’re already about to be late for school and work, kiddo, we don’t have time.”

“I always say hi, they're going to be sad if I don't!”

“And I'm going to be sad if I get fired, let's go.”

“PLEASE.”

“No.”

Her nephew’s exasperated voice permeated through the door. This scene wasn’t too uncommon for their household. Jas liked an exact routine for each morning; get dressed, eat, say hi to the animals, then leave for school. She wanted it to be exact and punctual each day, but there were many days that threw a wrench in the schedule. Now that it was thrown off, the young girl immediately was put in a mood, and that was putting Shane in a mood as well.

“Yoba I’m too hungover for this” he thought to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a deep sigh, “Look, Jas, if I bring home a treat for you today, will you get your shoes on?”

The young girl thought for a moment before nodding, running off to her room to grab her little mary jane shoes. Shane gave a small sigh of relief, not having the energy or willpower to battle with her any longer.

“Ach, schlecht exempel… You shouldn’t give in like that.” Marnie scolded, walking to stand next to him, “It’ll spoil her.”

“You win some, you lose some, and I’m already losing the battle with my patience.” her nephew groaned, “I’m willing to get her a snack if it means she gets to school on time, and I get to work on time.”

Marnie opened her mouth to speak, a lecture already brewing up in her head, but she stopped herself. He was in no mood to receive advice from her, especially parenting advice, and she didn’t need more bickering this early.

“Okay, okay…” she pursed her lips for just a moment, “You remembered to fix the cabinet by the way, right? I wanted to get it decorated today.”

“Yeah, yeah I think I did,” he shrugged.

"You think you did, or you did do it?" Marnie raised a brow.

Shane thought long and hard. The last few days were a blur, but he believed he had a memory of doing it. After a few seconds he nodded, "Yeah... I did, don't worry," he gave her a brief smile, keeping a hand on his throbbing forehead. He was beginning to regret the previous night.

“Are you hungover again?” Marnie asked exasperatedly, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, schatz.”

“I don’t want to talk about this again, please?” he grumbled defensively.

“This is the third day in a row, I’m wor-”

“Please stop.” Shane looked at her with an expression halfway between embarrassment and annoyance. He knew he had a problem and Marnie was only looking out for him, but it didn’t make him feel any less shitty about it, “Sorry.. I’m sorry.”

His aunt nodded slowly in acknowledgement, looking fairly frustrated herself, “Listen, I’m going to be heading out as soon as you get home, so you need to be here with Jas,” she changed the subject.

Shane raised a brow, “Where are you going?”

“If you must know, I’m meeting a special someone for a date,” a tint of blush appeared on her cheeks.

“Aendi I know it’s Lewis.”

Marnie’s face went white, “Is it that obvious?”

Shane winced uncomfortably, giving her a slow nod. Marnie and Lewis' relationship had to be the worst kept secret in town. The pair pretended like no one knew, but nearly everyone was acutely aware of the couple. It was almost a game amongst some of the townsfolk betting on when they would finally crack and admit it.

“I'm ready to go now...”, Jas stepped back into the room, fully ready for the day. A pout sat on her face, the girl still obviously very upset about the change in routine. Shane looked at his watch, huffing in annoyance, “Ohhhh Morris is gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

“Language.” Marnie warned, lightly hitting his arm.

Shane huffed and motioned to the door exaggeratedly, “Alright kiddo, we gotta run let’s go.”

“Remember, come straight home after work!,” Marnie called out, “No saloon.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Shane mumbled, feeling just a bit offended, “I can go a night without being there, you know,”

“Just a reminder,” she said, “I’ll see you two soon, lieb dehr beed!”

The pair gave her a wave as they ran off, racing against the clock to get where they needed to be. Finally, Marnie had the house all to herself. No disagreements, no problems, just her and the ranch. There were chores to do of course, such was life, but she didn’t mind them all that much. Nothing was going to keep her down, because tonight would be the night her life was going to change, and for the better this time. Tonight, she was going to tell Lewis they were going public about their relationship.

She smiled at herself in the vanity mirror in the foyer, fixing her hair into her signature braid. She felt confident, she felt good! After tonight she wouldn’t be Lewis’ little secret. She was going to be able to hold his hand in the town square, waltz with him at the Flower Dance, openly go on dates at the saloon. Just the thought of it made her heart soar. Nothing could ruin her mood.

That was, until she stepped into the kitchen. It was a complete disaster. Remnants of Shane’s 2 am freezer raid and mess from the breakfast he made for Jas littered just about every counter and surface. Cans next to the recycling bin, a frozen pizza box haphazardly teetering on top of the microwave, dishes stacked on the stove, table and counters. From being in such a rush he had neglected cleaning the scene, leaving it to Marnie instead.

“He’s doing his best… he’s trying… I have to give him that.” she thought to herself, holding her head in her hands. She waited for the tight feeling in her chest to dissipate before taking a deep breath to ground herself. It was just a little bump in the road, an obstacle she could easily tackle.

“Nothing is going to get you down. You got this, Marnie,” she reminded herself. She just thought of Lewis, of their rendezvous tonight, and she felt just a bit lighter.

It didn’t take too long to clean up, she thanked Yoba for that. Didn’t make it any less frustrating, but she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind for now. There was no time for her to feel bad, she couldn't allow herself. As long as she had been running the ranch, she had been seen as a beacon of positivity in town. It was a hefty title to carry, a draining one even, but if she just kept smiling, life would go by just fine.

She didn’t want to ruin the kitchen she had just so perfectly cleaned, so she just threw a frozen breakfast sandwich in the microwave, leaning against the counter as she waited for the timer to go down. Looking to the old clock on the wall, she tsked seeing the time. It was already half past 8, the morning flying by in the blink of an eye. She had so much she wanted to do before meeting with Lewis tonight, and she wasn’t sure she’d have the time for it all. Cleaning the coop, working on her quilt, and decorating that curio cabinet in the foyer. Only three tasks, but time consuming ones. She removed the sandwich from the microwave, blowing on it before tearing into it as she arranged the schedule in her mind. The coop would likely take the longest, and it was a priority. Best to get it done early before it got too warm.

The coop was loud and lively, the hens strutting around impatiently as they waited for Marnie to open the little hatch that led them out to their field. Donning her work gloves and boots, the woman waded her way carefully through the flock and unlatched the hatch, watching amusedly as the chickens ran on out to bask in the yard. It never got old, seeing them get so excited like that. She grabbed the pitchfork from its hook on the wall and gripped it tight. Time to get this done with.

As she scraped up the old straw from the ground, Marnie let her mind wander, imagining the evening ahead of her in great detail. She could practically feel it, sitting with Lewis at his table alone in the candlelight as they talked about their future. Marnie would suggest they finally tell the whole world about their love for each other, abandoning all worries. They could get married, have a beautiful ceremony in the middle of town for everyone to see. She had her mothers wedding dress somewhere stuffed in a hope chest, a beautiful gown any woman would feel like a princess in on her special day. She could feel her heart swell with childlike glee as she thought on it more. Today was the day, and she couldn’t be more excited.

A shrill squawking from the yard broke her from her frilly daydream, one that she knew meant trouble. Throwing down her pitchfork she shuffled her way through the hatch door, catching a view of one of the hens squeezing through a gap in the chicken wire, running off into the forest with reckless abandon.

“Mathilde! Come back here!” she called out, “Gottverdam!” she vaulted herself over the fence, immediately regretting the decision as she felt her body ache. She wasn’t young enough to be able to pull stunts like that anymore.

The little brown hen was much faster than her, darting in and out of trees as Marnie chased after her. The tricky thing was an escape artist, and she had no idea what danger waited out there for her. Wolves, coyotes, bears, all creatures who wouldn’t think twice about eating her up. Marnie didn’t want to run into them either, knowing full well she couldn't fend them off. Why did everything have to be so difficult today? Was it some bad luck day where “the spirits were displeased” as the farmer always put it? Whatever, that wasn’t important. What was important was finding Mathilde before something else did.

She could hear the hens soft clucks, but had no idea where they were coming from. The forest tended to have an echo to it that made noises carry. She tsked and called out for her once again, hoping Mathilde would run to the sound of her voice. Suddenly, the clucks turned into panicked squawks, sending a shiver down Marnie’s spine. She could finally tell where the noise was coming from, just a few feet away over in the clearing beyond the brush. She picked up a hefty stick, prepared to fight whatever creature had gotten to her poor little hen. Running towards the source of the sound, she held the stick over her head, preparing to lunge.

From behind the brush, a man stepped out, holding the hen in his arms. His face contorted in terror as he saw Marnie lunge towards him, dodging out of the way before he got lobbed in the head with the stick. The rancher yelped, stumbling back as soon she registered that he wasn't a wild animal.

“I’m so sorry! I thought you were an animal.” she apologized profusely. She dropped the stick, taking a good look at him. Shaggy gray hair hung in front of his wrinkled face, a patch over his left eye. A bulky cape hung from his shoulders, shrouding his frame in mystery, the silvery glint of a sword sitting at his waist. Her eyes widened as she recognized him.

“Marlon! Oh I’m so sorry!”

The man chuckled, “It’s quite alright, ma’am.” he held out his arms, Mathilde resting in his hands, “I take it this one is yours?”

“Yes! Thank you so much, really,” she took the chicken in her arms, scolding her like a child, “You zwieschpalt, don’t do that to me! What if this nice man hadn’t found you?”

The chicken just stared at her with blank eyes, obviously not understanding the danger of her escapade. All she knew was she wanted to run around and play, and there was a whole forest in front of her! Marnie held her close to her chest and smiled, looking up at the mysterious man, “What brings you down to the forest today? I don’t see you near town unless we’re having a festival.”

“The new farmer reported seeing some creatures around here, monsters from the damned mines who got bold and decided to take a chance out of the caverns.” Marlon sighed, “No matter how many times we slay them they just keep coming back.”

Marnie raised a brow, “I haven’t seen any monsters,”

Marlon put a hand on his sword's hilt, a small smile on his face, “Then I’ve done my job well… I must be going now lass, but it was good to see you again.”

“Oh…” Marnie frowned in disappointment, “I’ll see you at the fair next week though, right? I can’t wait to show you what I’ve been working on!”

“Aye, you will. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Marlon gave her a short salute, “Take care, Ms.Yoder.”

The man walked off, his mysterious aura still captivating the rancher. She held Mathilde closer and whispered, “He’s handsome, don't you think?.... Don’t tell Lewis,” the hen bawked in response, getting a small smile from her owner, “Let’s get you home.”

Walking briskly back to the ranch, she was thankful that seemingly none of the other hens had squeezed their way through that little gap. Hauling herself over the fence, Marnie placed the hen back down in the pen, watching her run off to her little flock of friends, squawking away as if she was telling them all about her escapade. The rancher reached into her pocket, pulling out a fabric scrap and looping it through the chicken wire, tightening the part that split. It was a temporary hold for sure, but hopefully would ward off the hens from getting bold again until she had the material to properly fix it. If Marlon was right about monsters coming down to the forest, she didn’t want to have to go run after one of them again.

Going back to finish cleaning the coop took quite a bit of time, but Marnie was proud of her work. The enclosure smelled fresh and clean, fresh soft straw laid down on the ground for the hens to roost in. She herself wasn’t exactly the cleanest after finishing though. Sweat from the heat clung to her skin, stray pieces of straw sticking to her hair and clothes. She checked the little watch on her wrist, 1:00pm. She had just enough time to get ready and work on the curio cabinet before her date with Lewis. She hated pushing off the quilt work again, just itching to pick up sewing again, but it would just have to wait for now. Such was life.

But oh, how fun it was getting ready. Marnie felt just like those princesses in those movies Jas loved to watch, dancing around as she donned her favorite dress, mind full of thoughts of her “one true love”. She decided on a nice, purple gown for tonight, sewn in a similar cut to her everyday wear, but much more lavish. The fabric was soft and high-end, detailed embroidery along the bodice and skirt's hem. A silk shawl was wrapped around her shoulders, pinned in place with a brooch she’d gotten from her mother. A little distelfink was painted on the front of its opaline surface, a prized possession she hoped would bring her luck and new beginnings this evening. In the spirit of doing something new, she decided to keep her hair down, finding she loved how it framed her round face. Hopefully Lewis loved it too.

She felt beautiful, like a new woman. The stressors of today were the last thing on her mind, and oh how glad she was for that. A life that was simple meant that many days she had nothing more to do than stew on what had happened. Maybe that all would change too. With being in the public eye, maybe she could have more say in town, have more to do, places to go. She loved her family and her ranch, but she wanted, needed, more. And Lewis would provide that for her, she knew he would.

It was 5:30 now. Marnie had time for just one more thing before she had to get going. She looked to the little hope chest that sat at the foot of her bed and grabbed a heavy box from the bottom, full of old trinkets and heirlooms. Little porcelain statuettes, vases, and even some jewelry. But the most important piece of all was the music box that lay at the bottom. Marnie gently grasped it, removing the cloth the protected its fragile form and taking a good look at it for the first time in years. Upon a pedestal with a turnkey stood a glass statue of a dancer dressed as if she were at a ball, arms held out wide in a pose of triumph. The name “Mona'' was inscribed in gold lettering at her feet, a name that made Marnie’s heart ache.

It had been 27 years since she had passed now. She still missed her sister dearly, and cherished every last bit of her memory that remained; family photos, Shane, and this music box. Putting it out on display had been an idea for some time now, but only recently did she have the heart to pull it from storage. It was difficult seeing reminders of her even after so long, but it was time to confront this feeling again. The birthday they shared was coming up, and it would be nice to have something of hers in the main room. It would be the center of attention, the centerpiece on the middle shelf that caught everyone's eye. Ever so carefully, she placed it on the shelf, hearing the soft clink of porcelain against the wood. Removing her hands, she stood back to take a look at it, a small smile on her face. The cabinet was beautiful, fitting in perfectly with the decor of the foyer. It made the counter area look homier too. This is exactly what she needed to finish off the day.

But then, the shelf slipped. The support hadn't been placed as promised, causing the wood to crack under the weight of the heirloom. Without time to react, the antique slipped and crashed onto the floor, shattering on impact. It took her a moment to process, a sick feeling in her stomach when she saw the dancer in pieces, an echo of the music box components ringing out discordantly. All she could do was stare, hands shaking as a silent rage built up inside of her. The frustration that was pent up in the back of her mind burst from its confines, making her dizzy with anger. Why couldn’t one thing go right today? Why couldn’t she just have a simple, peaceful morning, why couldn’t she trust her nephew to fix something so simple? She knew it wasn’t out of malice, rather forgetfulness, but somehow that made her feel worse.

The rage was quickly joined by a heavy weight of sadness, pulling Marnie to her knees as she looked at the scene in front of her. Shaking hands picked up the shattered porcelain pieces in front of her, careful to not cut herself on the sharp edges. She wanted to cry, to scream, but she couldn't. Something in her mind stopped her, as much as her heart begged her to. Scooping the broken pieces into her arms, holding it close to her heart, she stood and placed them on her shop counter. She felt sick to her stomach.

The front door swung open, the sounds of laughter flooding through the front doorway. Shane walked in, looking much better than this morning, with Jas sitting on his shoulders. She held the previously promised treat in her hand, a little pastry that her godfather had “borrowed” from the backroom at work. She was chattering away about some new book Penny had her reading at lessons, and Shane contentedly listening to her rambles. He lifted her off his shoulders, placing her gingerly on the ground, “Alright chickadee, why don’t you go say hi to the cows now? I’m sure they missed you today.”

Jas nodded excitedly, running off towards the kitchen door that led to the animal housing. Her giggles echoed out as she closed the door, her ever-so-loud voice still audible through the walls as she greeted the animals. Shane smirked and shook his head, turning to his aunt. He held up a little takeout bag with the saloon logo, “Hey Marn, I got dinner handled for me n’ Jas tonight. If you need to go now we’re fine.”

“I thought you said you fixed this.”

Marnie didn’t so much as turn to face him, her voice uncharacteristically ice cold. It sent a shiver down her nephew's spine, his smile dropping into a concerned expression, knowing he screwed up, just not how. He looked over to where Marnie was facing, seeing the collapsed shelf of the curio cabinet and tiny glass shards on the floor. Oh shit. He thought he had fixed that already, he truly did.

“Aunt Marnie I’m so-”

Marnie held up a hand, cutting him off, “I don’t want to hear it.” she turned to face the doorway, still refusing to look him in the eye, “I’ll be home late tonight. Leave the door unlocked for me.”

She stepped out without another word, refusing to look him in the eye. Shane was left alone in the foyer with a heavy guilt sitting in his stomach. With Marnie gone he could see the mess on the counter, approaching it to see what had broken. The first thing he saw was his mother's name. The guilt sat heavier, a sick feeling accompanying it. He didn’t know her for all that long, Mona had died when he was barely old enough to remember her, but he knew how much she meant to his aunt. And now, another act of his forgetfulness had destroyed something of hers. He felt like shit, and he knew Marnie deserved to be angry with him. Hell, he was angry with himself. What a mess he was making of things. He thought back on the entire day, cringing as he realized just how badly he had messed up. His attitude this morning, the mess in the kitchen, and now this. He had to make it up to her, he just had to.

Jas stepped back inside, not initially noticing the mess, “I’m back! I told Bertie aaaaall about today, she’s such a good listener!”

“Watch out for the glass!” he warned, pulling her away from the cabinet. Damn, he needed to sweep that up.

“What happened?” she asked, confused at the sight before her.

Shane peeked into the kitchen, grabbing the broom and dustpan off the hook on the wall, “I made a mistake, but I’m gonna make it up to Aunt Marnie. Wanna help?”

“Yeah!”

—------

“You’re going to have a good night… Don’t let this steal your joy.” Marnie whispered a little affirmation to herself as she approached the steps to Lewis’ home. It did little to ease her heart, but she needed to stay positive, at least appear positive. That’s what Lewis loved so much about her anyways, her ability to always be such a sunbeam even in the hardest of times.

The front door swung open with a creak, the mayor she loved standing in the doorway. Lewis was dressed in his favorite attire, brown suspenders and a deep green dress shirt, but Marnie thought it looked lovely. The mayor looked to the left and right, as if to check that no-one was watching. Once he saw that the coast was clear, he pulled her inside, wrapping her in a tight embrace.

“How are you doing, dear?” he whispered, kissing her cheek softly. Marnie smiled, letting out a small laugh as she leaned into the crook of his neck, “Better now that I’m with you.”

Lewis grinned, eyes crinkling up in the corners, “That’s good to hear…” he motioned to his dining room table, now decorated with candles and a lace tablecloth, “Why don’t you sit, I made your favorite tonight.”

All the anger and frustration was quickly returned to the back of Marnie’s mind. None of it mattered now that she was in Lewis’ arms. For now, there were no troubles here. Lewis indeed made her favorite, a hearty farmers lunch. It was a simple dish, but one that had many good memories attached to it. Just the smell transported her back to a simpler time, a time when everything was right in the world.

The couple made small talk, speaking about the town, all the hot gossip that had been spreading around. Pelican Town looked like a sleepy little village from the outside, but one would never guess how much drama was unfolding behind closed doors. Everyone had something going on, and with such a tight knit community that meant everyone knew about everything. The conversation switched to Lewis’ day. Not much interesting going on with him, he was afraid. He gardened, took a walk around town, and spoke with the new farmer in the town square about a secret little quest he had asked help with, but that was about it.

“ Nothing wrong with a simple day!” Marnie mused, taking a sip of her drink, “Sounds peaceful.”

“I guess it was,” Lewis chuckled, “How about you? What has my angel been doing today?”

“Oh you know, the usual. Cleaning, tending to the animals, decorating. Wasn’t much more exciting than your day, unfortunately.” the voice in the back of her head gnawed at her, begging her to be open about what had truly been going on. Against her better judgment, she listened, “Actually, maybe that’s not entirely true.”

“Hmm?”

“I… had a hard day actually.” she mumbled, “There was a spat this morning, one of the chickens got out, and-”

Lewis put up a hand, cutting her off, “Don’t you worry about all of that dear, just focus on the positives.”

“But-”

“Marnie, dear,” Lewis put a hand on hers, “It doesn’t help to dwell on the negative. We’re here now, we’re having a good time. Let’s look to the future.”

Marnie pursed her lips, pulling her hand away slightly. Lewis was never someone who enjoyed talking about serious things, and she understood, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Maybe he was right though, maybe she needed to focus towards the future.

“Well….” she began, folding her hands neatly, “I’ve been thinking recently.”

Lewis raised a brow, “About what?”

“About us.”

“What about us?”

Marnie sighed, taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing, “I want to make our relationship public!”

She looked to her lover with a hopeful smile, scanning his face to see what he was thinking. Lewis didn’t look impressed with the idea, quite the opposite really. He sighed and put a hand to his head, “Marnie…. No.”

“What do you mean no?” Marnie felt her voice grow defensive, a tightness in her chest, “Lewis we’ve been dating for 3 years now and you refuse to tell anyone!”

“You know I can’t!” Lewis scoffed, “I have a reputation to uphold in this town, an image to maintain. What would people say if they knew about us?”

The sentence stuck a dagger in Marnie’s chest, the heartbreak obvious on her face. Lewis stammered, holding up a hand, “Wh-what I mean is-”

“Are you embarrassed of me?” Marnie warbled, feeling tears form in her eyes.

“Marnie, please-”

“NO, Lewis.” the woman stood up, lunging across the table to get closer to his face, “Why would telling people about us hurt your reputation? Why would I ruin your image?!”

The mayor tripped over his words, trying to find a way to say what he wanted without getting her angrier, “I just meant that people may look at me differently if I tell them about us! You understand, don’t you? The mayor of Pelican Town with a rancher? What would people say?”

“I don’t know, maybe they’ll say they’re happy for us? Maybe our friends will celebrate?” Marnie snapped, “Are you embarrassed about my job? I make a good and honest living, Lewis. I’ve carried my family’s farm on my back alone for decades!”

“And I’ve carried this entire town on mine!” he snapped back.

“Please, I know all about what you actually do: Nothing!” Marnie hissed, “Ever since you became mayor this town has gotten worse! The community center is gone, Joja is ruining the small businesses, the bus is still broken! The only reason anything gets done around here is because the new farmer is pitching in! That’s your job Lewis, not hers!”

Lewis stood from his seat, slamming the chair angrily into place, “How dare you. After all I’ve done for you and your family... If it weren’t for me inviting Joja to this town, your layabout of a nephew would be jobless and still in debt!”

“You don’t get to talk about him like that!” Marnie barked. As much as she got frustrated with Shane, she never tolerated anyone speaking ill of him, even Lewis, “I don’t want to ever hear you talk about my family that way again.”

Lewis threw his arms up in exasperation, “Where is this coming from?! You’ve never acted like this, this isn’t you.”

“Well maybe it is! You never let me talk about these things! I’m so tired of acting happy all the time, Lewis…” she paused to catch her breath, holding her head in her hands, “I’m tired of all of this. You get so upset with me when I try to talk about my problems. “Just focus on the positives!” , well maybe I don’t want to! Maybe I’m sad, an-and I need help, because I don’t know what to do anymore!”

She finally broke out into sobs, letting the sadness take over for the first time, “I’m the only one keeping my family together, Lew. If I were gone tomorrow, everything would fall apart. I can’t keep being the only person who has it together and I’m so tired of doing it by myself.”

“You aren’t doing it by yourself, you have me.”

“Do I?” Marnie snapped.

There was a tense silence for a moment, Lewis just staring at her with such shock. Marnie had never cried in front of him before, never spoken against him. He didn’t even know what to say. All Marnie wanted was for him to comfort her, for him to take her in his arms, to tell her he was there for her. She needed someone to finally let her be free.

“I’m sorry you feel like I’m such a terrible person.” Lewis’ voice dripped with contempt, “I’m trying Marnie, but you can’t just throw all of this onto me with no warning. That's not fair.”

Marnie looked up, staring at him with puffy, tear filled eyes. Did she just hear him correctly? Her face contorted to one of anger, arms falling to her side, hands balling into fists. How could he say that to her, like she was the one who was the problem. Lewis approached her, holding his arms out like he was ready for an embrace.

“But it will be okay, Marnie. I love you, I want to be with you.” he hugged her, but Marnie wouldn’t return it. She stood still as a statue in his arms, rage undeniable.

“I forgive you too, Marnie. Why don't we just try to talk about something nice, hmm?”

The rancher pushed Lewis away, staring at him in disbelief. She didn’t have the words to describe how betrayed she felt right now. Lewis had the audacity to look confused, as if he had no clue why she’d be so upset with him.

“I… I need to go.” she choked out, shaking her head slowly. Lewis groaned, “Marnie stop, we can still have a good night.”

“No.” she hissed, putting a hand on the front door handle, “I’m leaving.”

“Marnie!”

“What?!”

“Go through the kitchen window. I don’t want someone to see you and get ideas.”

Marnie opened the door, giving him one last look, one full of anger and exhaustion, “Goodbye, Lewis.”

She couldn’t be at the mayor's manor, she couldn’t be home, and she wouldn’t be able to handle the saloon. Marnie felt like she didn’t belong anywhere right now, and maybe she didn’t. She felt free, finally letting her feelings be known, but that freedom had a price, and that price was finding out how alone she really was. Lewis’ words and reaction stuck with her, infecting her mind and making it spin. She didn’t know who to trust anymore, the person she thought she could trust with her life completely broke her heart. Was she really that shameful? What was so wrong with her that she’d ruin his reputation? She stormed off into the mountains, the brisk autumn evening breeze frigid against her cheeks. She was thankful that she dressed warm.

The mountain lake was always beautiful at night. The valley didn’t have the light pollution of the city, meaning stars were visible as far as the eye could see, reflecting onto the water’s surface. Sitting under the oak by the lake’s edge on her own, she curled her knees close to her chest, letting herself cry once more. It was a quiet, mournful sob, a heart-wrenching symphony of every horrible thing that had piled up since Yoba knew how long. Marnie had tricked herself into believing she was happy for so long, using every distraction she could to block herself from seeing how terrible things were. They didn’t work anymore though.

“Fancy seeing you again.”

Marnie snapped her head up to see the source of the voice, finding herself once again staring face to face with the leader of the elusive Adventurers Guild. She wiped her tears, and sniffled, “Marlon? I’m sorry, I hope I’m not causing any trouble.”

The man sat next to her, shaking his head, “On the contrary. I don’t mind your company.” he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, holding it towards her, “Though, if you’re not in the mood for it, I can leave.”

Marnie scoffed, a bitter smile on her face, “Thanks. Not many people seem to care what I want around here.” she took the handkerchief, dabbing at the corners of her eyes, “It’s been… a terrible day.”

“Would… you like to talk about it?” Marlon asked awkwardly, “I know we’re not awfully close, but I’ve never been one to turn down a story.”

“Well..,” Marnie started, “My family is a mess, one of the chickens escaped, I broke an heirloom… and….” she buried her head in her knees, “And the man I thought I loved doesn’t love me...”

She began to cry again, not even caring that Marlon was watching. The adventurer sat quietly, nervously putting a hand on her shoulder as a quiet signal to let her know he was listening. The rancher sniffled and looked to him, “You must think I’m a baby for being this upset over it. There’s people dying in combat right now and here I am crying about this.”

“You’re not a baby.” Marlon affirmed, his voice gentle and genuine, “You wouldn’t say that about anyone else in your shoes, would you not?”

“Well… no.”

“Then why are you so hard on yourself?”

“Because I’m supposed to be the one who has everything together!” Marnie growled out, “Everyone always looks to me as someone to lean on. Lewis, Shane, Jas, everyone, they need me. I can’t sit here crying like this over one bad day. I have to be there for them.”

“But then who’s there for you?” Marlon questioned. It seemed to throw Marnie off, her expression just a bit surprised.

“No one, I suppose.” she mumbled, “I guess that’s a sacrifice I’ve accepted. It’s life, you know?”

“No, I don’t. You can’t just be out there on your own, lass. You need someone who cares for what you need and want.”

“I don’t even think I know what I want anymore... I don't want this but what can I do? My life’s already set out for me; not like I can change it.” Marnie mumbled.

“It’s never too late to make a change, to be happy.” Marlon stated, “There’s always time,”

The rancher laughed softly, “You think so?” Marlon nodded in response.

Looking up to the sky, Marines eyes softened, “Well... I always wanted to be an artist. I went to school for it actually, textile arts.”

“Is that so?” Marlon smiled, leaning back against the tree behind them, “You’re such a natural with animals, I didn’t take you for that type.”

“Ranching is nice, but it was never my dream. Trust me, I love the animals, but that was more my sister’s passion.” Marnie’s face grew solemn, “When… our parents passed, she took over the ranch so I could pursue my dream. I was doing so well, I had a good job in the city already lined up for once I was out.” she took a deep breath, “Mona died the year I graduated, left the business and Shane behind. We don’t really have anyone else, so I had to turn down the job and come home.”

She turned to face Marlon, surprised to see his normally solemn face full of pity. Shaking her head, she turned away, feeling almost embarrassed, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, I’m sorry. Mona’s just been on my mind recently and Lewis doesn’t like when I talk about it.”

“Lewis? Is that the man you were talking about earlier?” Marlon felt an odd twinge of jealousy in him, “I never thought you two were… on those terms.”

“Well not anymore!.... Maybe… I don’t know,” Marnie scoffed angrily, “Apparently dating a rancher would look bad on someone so important as our mayor. He tried making me climb out of his window because he was too embarrassed to have me seen leaving.”

“Why do you put up with this?”

“Well why do you ask so many questions?”

“I… don’t know.”

“I guess I don’t know either.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, neither certain how to continue the conversation. Marlon had gone from knowing little about Marnie to knowing what she had barely discussed with her own lover within a night. He never knew there was so much to her, their conversations at festivals never piercing past the surface of small talk. But now, all he wanted was to be closer to her.

“I think you should try pursuing your dream. again” he finally said, staring off towards the lake, “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Marnie shook her head, “Oh, I couldn’t leave the animals behind, or the business. It’s been in my family so long… And my nephew, bless his soul, he’s not ready for that responsibility. He won't admit it, but I see how his eyes light up when he does work around the ranch... Still, I know he’d have a hard time on his own. I’d be selfish to leave.”

“Then teach him how to do it and follow your own dream. Don’t you think you deserve to be a little selfish? Even once?”

Marnie chuckled, shaking her head, “It’s a bit too late for that, don’t you think?”

“No… Better to follow your dreams late than to let them die.” he let out a laugh, “Hell, Gil and I didn’t even start adventuring until we started going gray ourselves. As long as you’re still in this world, you have time.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Marnie questioned. It was almost suspicious how kind he was being. She wasn’t used to this, “What do you get out of this?”

“Nothing. I just want to be nice to you.”

A strange feeling came over her, almost a feeling of... love? It was true, she didn’t know Marlon that well. Besides the short conversations they had every once in a while, he was a mystery to her. But he was kind to her without any expectations in return, and he spoke to her like she was a person. He didn’t shy away when she showed emotion or encourage her to ‘just be happy’. It was nice. He was a good man, a kind man. With him, she felt seen in a way she never did with Lewis.

Slowly, she leaned her head against his shoulder, the poor man feeling his heart beat out of his chest. He had always loved Marnie from afar, but never spoke more than a few words to her before tonight. And now, she was confiding in him as if they had been close friends all their lives, sitting with him while they looked at the stars. He felt like the luckiest man in Pelican Town. They basked in the comfortable silence between them, Marlon slowly sliding his hand along the ground to reach Marnie’s. Feeling his touch, she moved to meet him as well, interlocking their fingers. It was just them, the lake, and the stars. No one else existed to them in the moment, and for once today, Marnie was truly at peace.

“You look beautiful tonight, you know,” Marlon finally admitted. Marnie lifted her head from his shoulder, looking at him with surprise. A tint of blush crept up the guildmaster’s face,” You always do...”

“Marlon…”

“Please, let me finish.” Marlon clasped her hand between his, squeezing gently as he looked at her with longing, “Marnie… I don’t care for many of the festivals in this town, but I always go for a chance just to see you. I make up reasons to go into town, since there’s a chance I may be able to say hello. You are the most beautiful woman in this town, this world, and anyone would be so lucky to have you in their life.”

He paused, waiting for a moment to see her reaction. He half expected her to run off, finding his confession offputting. But she didn’t. She just stared at him, the same longing in her eyes, silently begging him to continue.

“You deserve to have someone that looks out for you. I want to be that someone and I’ve wanted it for so long... I need you to know that. I apologize if it’s made you uncomfortable.”

“...Quite the opposite, really,” Marnie whispered, leaning in closer, “I think I’d like to know you better, Marlon.”

“As do I,”

Closing their eyes, they moved forward, lips gently pressing against each other. Marnie felt something now she had never felt with Lewis, a feeling she couldn’t exactly place. There was always the thrill of secrecy with the mayor, the feeling of the forbidden that made the adrenaline flow when they kissed. But Marlon made her feel safe. Being with him in this moment was soothing, warm. Her heart was racing, but for entirely different reasons now, good reasons.

The pair pulled back, unable to look each other in the eye from how flustered they had gotten. Marnie toyed with her hair, rubbing strands between her fingers nervously, “Can I see you again tomorrow?”

Marlon cupped a hand to her face, brushing his thumb against her cheek, “You are always welcome at the guild… Stop by at 7 tomorrow night.”

“It’s a date,” Marnie smiled. She stood up, brushing stray grass and leaves from her skirt, “I have a long walk home, I should get going.”

“I can come with you,” Marlon offered, “The mountains get dangerous at night, all sorts of creatures crawling out of the mines looking for a poor soul to follow.”

Marnie gave him a playful jab in the side, “Oh stop it, you’re not scaring me… a walk home does sound nice, though.”

Marlon smiled, holding out a bent arm for her to hold onto, leading her down the mountain. The feeling of the unknown that had been around them for so long was gone. They knew each other for such little time, but Marnie felt like she could tell him anything, as did Marlon. He told her all about his escapades in the mines, the monsters he faced and wild tall tales of his brushes with death down in those depths. She wasn’t sure how much of it was true or a legend, but she was entirely enthralled. The cadence of his storytelling voice, the excitement with which he spoke, it made her feel alive in a way that she never felt alive before. She’d grown so used to the same old stories; weeding the garden, standing in town square, visiting the local businesses. There was nothing wrong with a simple life, but this is what she wanted, no, needed more than anything. She needed someone who could excite and surprise her, and someone who listened.

It was near midnight by the time they reached the ranch. The moon was at its peak over the mountaintops, soft sounds of crickets chirping in the bushes. The lamp next to the door was lit, the soft yellow glow encircling the pair in angelic light as they said their goodbyes.

“I’m glad you found me again.” Marnie mused, taking his hands in hers, “Thank you, for everything.”

“Anything for you,” he responded, giving her hand a gentle kiss, “Have a goodnight, Marnie.”

The two parted ways, Marnie stepping softly through the door of her home, shutting it softly as to not wake Jas. The overhead lights in the foyer were on, buzzing softly. It initially frustrated her. Shane always forgot to turn them off before going to sleep, making for an expensive electric bill, and she wasn’t exactly made of money. But something caught her eye. The curio cabinet was polished and cleaned to near perfection, as was the once dusty floor. The glass shards that she had left behind were nowhere to be seen, only her own shiny reflection.

But most importantly was what was inside the cabinet. The middle shelf had been properly fixed, a support anchor screwed in beneath it. On top was Mona’s music box, glued together the best it could be. There were little gaps here and there, chips on the paint, but it was whole again. She gently picked it up, rubbing her thumb over the name on the pedestal. A little piece of paper, a note, sat next to it. Scrawly letters in Shane’s handwriting were scribbled on the front in pencil. She picked it up, squinting to read :

“I’m sorry about the mess I caused. It’s not fair to you. You’ve done a lot for me and Jas and I wanted to show I actually appreciate it. It’s not perfect, but we tried to get it fixed up.

I know I screwed up today. I’ve screwed up a lot recently. But I want to be better for you and Jas, and I hope you can forgive me for everything.

-Shane”

Marnie looked to the direction of her nephew's room, smiling softly. It was gestures like these that reminded her of just how sweet he was. Shane wasn’t all that different from her really, and she understood just how easy it was to fall into the habits and behaviors he had picked up. She tried to be patient, give him the time and support he needed, the same that she needed when she was in his place 27 years ago. It was taking time to get back to normal, or something close to it, but these moments made her feel like things could be okay again.

Marnie gently placed the note on her shop counter, making her way into her bedroom with a small smile on her face. She turned on her nightstand lamp, sitting down on the old bed that sat flush against the wall. She pulled Marlon’s handkerchief from her pocket, rubbing a thumb over the fabric. It was a simple little square with basic stitching around the edges, the fabric a faded robins-egg blue. It meant everything to her. The initially unassuming rag was a symbol of a great change in her life, a change she never saw coming.

The adventurer had given her a new lease on life, hope that despite her situation, she could still continue to do more. Marnie could be more than just the little rancher in Cindersap forest, more than what was expected of her in this life. Lewis never made her feel this way, and she was beginning to wonder what she ever saw in that man to begin with. Perhaps it was out of desperation, out of a desire for anyone to even look her way and consider her desirable, no matter how they treated her. The bar was pitifully low, but Marlon had raised it to the stars in just one night. She could actually imagine the future she wanted with him, Lewis’ face fading from those visions. Holding hands as they strolled in town, waltzing together at the Flower Dance, and maybe even getting married. Today was a good day, she decided, just not in the way she ever expected.

She turned to look at the dial-up phone on her dresser. She had made an important decision, and it was time to let it be known. Picking up the receiver, she dialed in Lewis’ number, waiting anxiously for a response. She half hoped he’d pick up so she could hear his reaction in real time, but mostly prayed that he was asleep. Ring after ring droned out, until a prompt to leave a message started. Taking a deep breath, she spoke softly, yet firmly into the receiver.

“We’re done.”

[bellagbear]

Am I mad? Maybe, but that is not the point of this story. I am writing about all the background colours I’ve chosen for my Dear Jane sampler quilt as an opportunity to discuss fabric and colour choice in quilting.

The original quilt made by Jane Stickle

The Dear Jane is a sampler quilt, meaning consisting of many different patterns, made by Jane Stickle. Brenda Papadakis was inspired by Jane’s original quilt and turned all the blocks into a pattern. Now many quilters all over the world are making the quilt to test their skills, determination and to become better at quilting. I am one of those quilters. Samplers are suitable to learn new skills because they use many different techniques.

Red is the background colour of this post. It is one of the four background colours of the middle squares together with white, green and blue. I use bold colours and combinations both because I think those make exciting quilts, but also to show people how crazy you can get with colours and still make a fantastic quilt. So far, I’ve also written a post about the blue background colour

The Dear Jane quilt: feeling blue

Dear Jane quilt blocks

The red background fabric is the only one I actually bought for this quilt. Usually, I use whatever is available. My mom is one of those quilters with more fabric than she can handle, so she always lets me use hers. I was set on red though, so buying I did. My knowledge of suitable fabrics was not very big when I bought it, so the fabric is not ideal and it frays very easily. Maybe it is woven too loosely? I am not sure. It sews nicely though so I’ll keep using it.

Dear Jane quilt block M-9: Fan dance

Dear Jane quilt block M-9: fan dance

Oh, this was a fun block. It reminds me of Spiderman, a maze and kinds of fun goodness. Also, I like the combination of pink and red. It is a bit unconventional, but it will look very good in the finished quilt. There are a lot of unexpected colour combinations in this post, as you will see. If you take care to have some recurring colour elements in your quilt some unexpected colours will give the overall piece some interest. Recurring themes could be background colours or sashing. I talk more about that in this post where I explain the colour choices of my Dear Jane quilt:

How I design: colours of the Dear Jane

This block is made with the patchwork technique. With a lot of pins that technique always works to get a neat block.

Dear Jane quilt block L-4: St. George’s cross

Dear Jane quilt block L-4: St. George’s cross

This was another fun block! I loved the small red strips and how they are not extended in one line throughout the whole block. It gives the block an interesting look. As you can see, the quilt block is a bit wonky. That is because the light green fabric is too thin and stretches a lot. I used it anyway because I had already cut the pieces. When I’ll sew the sashing or borders on this block I have to be extra careful not to stretch the block. When you pin a lot and take care when sewing you can use almost all the fabric you want to, no matter what other people tell you.

Dear Jane quilt block E-1: Aunt Exie’s phlox

Dear Jane quilt block E-1: Aunt Exie’s phlox

First I did not know what ‘phlox’ was -Google tells me it’s some kind of flower. How nice that the Dear Jane quilt has learned us something new non-quilting related.

Now it annoys me that this block has only four petals since the phlox clearly has five petals. I remain that the pattern of this quilt block should look something like this:

Phlox design with five colours

A  block like looks less symmetrical though, so maybe that’s why Jane went for four petals. The nature theme is nice. There are many of those in the Dear Jane, I even wrote a post about it:

Nature in the Dear Jane sampler quilt.

I used the needle-point technique for this block. It is one of the first times I’ve tried it and I’m not sure if I like it or not. Needlepoint applique where you sew the pieces on top of the background fabric seems more difficult than reverse applique where you sew the pieces behind the background to me to get neat pieces. Time and more practice will tell. That keeps being the conclusion when I do applique:

Dear Jane quilt: the quilting techniques you hate, or why practice is paramount

Dear Jane quilt block A-9: cabin fever

Dear Jane quilt block: A-9 cabin fever

The title of this block is clever.  The design with the square on its side with all the little pieces inside of it gives it a claustrophobic sense explaining the name. This quilt block came out neat because I used the foundation piecing technique where you sew the patchwork pieces on a background fabric. Read more about that here:

Quilting techniques 101: Foundation piecing

This is another block with an unconventional colour combination. I would not advice doing a whole quilt in orange and red, and I am not sure whether the block works on its own, but, in the bigger quilt, it will look great.

Concluding remarks

This is the end of the post. With a bit of luck it gave you some daring to use bold colour combinations yourself.  Now, some questions to get to know you:

Do you like sampler quilts?

How bold do you dare to go with colours?

Which block of the Dear Jane quilt is your favourite?

Next week I will talk about the first (mini-)quilt I send in for an exhibition!

Do you want to know more?

The Dear Jane quilt sampler introduction

I’m not ashamed: humble Dear Jane quilt blocks

The magic reverse applique quilting trick

A milestone of my Dear Jane quilt! Halfway the middle squares

The nearly insane quilt: a machine quilting sampler

  See my DeviantArt or Instagram (username: bella.g.bear.art) for more artwork and WIPs. You can also follow my blog by clicking on the button on the left or by filling in your email address. There will be a monthly update at the end of every month and a new blogpost every Sunday or Monday.

The Dear Jane quilt: seeing red, am I mad? Am I mad? Maybe, but that is not the point of this story. I am writing about all the background colours I've chosen for my Dear Jane sampler quilt as an opportunity to discuss fabric and colour choice in quilting.

[radiatinggarlic]

[housefreak]

while im quilt posting. the shenandoah valley botanical quilt <3 shes so beautiful id love to make her one day

[kayssweetdreams]

Maestro Hiccups Part 6

Meanwhile, With Eis.

Eis's eyelid twitched at the sound of clucking. It was bad enough that he had a chicken suit on...now his ENTIRE stage had become one big farm, filled with cows, and pigs...and Chickens. "I thought farm stuff was Jose's thing. Why did Balan have to give me a chicken suit with his hiccups? Why couldn't he had made me a dragon?" He asked himself as he navigated himself around the giant chickens and eggs that surrounded his usually fire infested world. However there was some good to the sudden transformation. Farmlands meant things grow, and things that grow meant a chance at finding the tree. Eis slowly began to trek through his new world, when a loud "PEEP!" came from behind him. Turning around, he could see that he attracted a bunch of baby chicks. Now this wouldn't be a bad thing...if the chicks weren't 30 feet tall. "Nice chicks...Nice chicks..." Eis said as he slowly made his way away from them. But one of the chicks started to nuzzle him as if he was their "Mama". The firefighter sighed. "This is gonna be a LONG day..."

Meanwhile, With Cass...

Cass's nose was hit with the immediate scent of flowers when she entered her altered world. The candy, cat plushes and stoplights that littered her world were now replaced with a garden of epic proportions. Flora, both of Wonderworld and the real world, blossomed everywhere. Cass was so enraptured with the beauty of the plants, that she almost bumped into a large statue of Balan, who holding a Tim in his hands. Looking around, she could see VARIOUS statues of Balan, in various positions, some regal, some silly, but they were still Balan "Heehee!! I guess Balan has some control over his power when he hiccups!" Cass giggled before remembering the task at hand: Looking for the Wonder Fruit tree in this vast garden land.

Meanwhile, With Jose...

The Farmer didn't know what to expect when he returned back to his stage. His entire farmlike world had been transformed into a little girl's dream. Pinks and purples danced across his vision as the rolling hills and corn stalks that he remembered were replaced with small cottages, and villages. "Welp. Now I know how Cal feels in his world...if it were more girly." He said as he walked through the cobblestone streets. A big pink Unicorn then trotted up to to him and bowed its head. "Uh...Hey big guy." Jose said cautiously. The Unicorn then trotted behind him and nudged under his arm, as if asking him to get on. "Um...Ok..." He said. Carefully getting on, the Unicorn galloped through the pastel kingdom. Jose held on for dear life when he passed by an orchard. "Hey Fella...Can we go to that orchard?" He asked. The Unicorn didn't look happy, but it went over to the whimsical looking orchad. Jose sighed, Finding that Tree was gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack...

Meanwhile, with Attilio...

Attilio didn't expect the aftermath of Balan's hiccup onslaught to be this...comfortable. The chaos of his carnival heart was transformed into what one could describe as "a giant pillow fort". The rides and neon lights had turned into giant pillow and blankets of all kinds. Quilts and sheets replaced the invisible tracks that Rail Runners had sprinted on and a big blanket fort stood in the distance where the Haunted house used to be. Attilio smiled at the sight, he almost felt like taking a small little nap for a second. But he shook his head, he had to focus. The fate of Wonderworld'a magic depended on finding that Wonder Fruit...however, it might be a bit hard considering that everything was made of pillows and blankets now. The Clown fought back a yawn...he had to find that fruit...in 5 minutes or two...

(A little Balan Fic I made, inspired by this! https://shadowqueen402.tumblr.com/post/691857479604305920/hi-could-you-please-write-a-fic-about-balan

Mei belongs to @sundove88

Rebecca belongs to @thehypercutstudios /@thehyperrequiem

Trisha Jane Belongs to @lovelyteng

I only own Kaylo)

[humans4vampires]

I caught some of your meta on your posts and I peeped around and saw a little Hardin Scott commentary. I saw you unpack this a bit in a chat but I want to hear more so I’ll ask again: If we sub out Jacob for Hardin, who would Bella pick? Edward or Hardin?

Wow, okay. Let's unpack!

I'd say it really depends on the situation; whether or not we're merging plot lines from both series or if we're just hard-swapping Hardin for Jacob in the Twilight Saga. I have so much to say about the two universes colliding, which I would dare say would have a different outcome and a much more compelling storyline, but since you asked this question specifically, I'll just cover what I think would happen if we swapped Jacob Black for Hardin Scott, cold-turkey, without any other peripheral character changes or introductions.

Edward Cullen versus Hardin Black (neé Scott)

Hardin Black is angsty, a little aggressive, and very popular amongst his friends and peers. He's charming, enough so that he's charmed the pants off of most of the girls his age, so he's quite sexually experienced by the time he meets his childhood friend, Bella Swan when she returns to Forks to live with her father.

Charlie Swan knows Hardin well enough to know he doesn't want him hanging around his teenage daughter, but his dear friend, Billy Black hopes that Bella might be a good influence on his gruff son. Charlie keeps a close watch on them when they're together, though he quickly assures himself that Hardin won't be pulling any tricks on his daughter.

Bella and Hardin were a volatile pair together, and both had no issue telling the other what they thought of them. Hardin found Bella to be a boring, plain-Jane, goody-goody, which only was made more apparent in her choice of a boyfriend; the incredibly tame and aggravatingly perfect, Edward Cullen. Over a fish-fry dinner with Billy and Hardin, Bella made a passing comment about Edward to Charlie, to which Hardin's response was, "Even worse than the Newton kid."

Bella saw Hardin as a fuck-boy, to be entirely honest. To her, he was rude and crass, spent too much of his time looking for destructive things to do. And once Edward came into the picture, she saw all of Hardin's flaws in direct comparison to her perfect gentleman in Edward.

Things changed, though, when Edward left Bella in the time during New Moon. Bella spent months essentially catatonic before discovering her new-found passion for adrenaline charging adventurism. Who better to create chaos with than Hardin?

Now, here's where some things take a turn. Hardin isn't interested in wholesome 'fun' like our sweetie pie, Jacob Black. Hardin drinks and parties and stirs up trouble. Bella falls in with Hardin, but does a good job of leveling him out a bit. They bond over their shared love of classic literature and spend their days recovering from their wild teenage nights by reading passages to each other on an old quilt on the beach in La Push.

Eventually, the two build a strong and trusting relationship, full of witty teasing and more balanced joy. They spend less and less of their time with friends at parties and more and more time alone. Bella proves to be a good equalizer for Hardin and Hardin a good measure of happiness for Bella. The two do end up having sex and continue to have a sexual relationship leading up to the time Hardin transforms into a werewolf.

Both Bella and Hardin manage to help each other with a lot of their varying emotional baggage, and in many ways, they are able to supplement each other well. Hardin's fear of abandonment is well cared for in Bella's over-attentiveness and need to be the "parent," while this quality in Bella is better balanced by Hardin's more carefree and narcissistic tendencies. In this, I mean to say that Hardin encourages Bella to let loose and think of herself first - which becomes even more liberating for Bella when the two begin their sexual relationship.

I'll pause here to unpack this more: I'm not just putting in this saucy tad-bit for your reading pleasure. You cannot have Hardin as a character without the sexual chemistry with the female protagonist. At his core, he's still an adaptation of Christian Grey and Harry Styles. This is not a comment on Harry Styles' sexual prowess, just to be clear - but Christian Grey is sex personified, and thus, is Hardin Scott (or Black, in this case). Which is so interesting to think about, considering Christian Grey is just an adaptation of Edward Cullen, thus, Hardin has enough at his core to be a strong contender for Bella. And, Bella Swan, at her core, is very in-tune with her sexuality. Stephenie Meyer may not be overly colorful with Bella's lustfulness, but it's obvious and apparent throughout the series. Bella and Hardin would have sex eventually and this would complicated things for the both of them, especially when Edward returns.

Now, as the whole werewolf thing unfolds and Bella is forced, by Hardin, to separate from him, the gravity of their relationship and their sexual encounters pushes Bella to another breaking point. She feels rejected and isolated with Hardin distancing himself and the feeling that she loses Edward the more she let's Hardin in hits her harder in Hardin's absence. Not to mention, her relationship with Hardin isn't exactly as easy-breezy beautiful, Cover Girl, like her relationship with the subbed-out Jacob was. Jacob, remember, is very go-with-the-flow, sunshine with a candy-coating sweet - and Hardin is very much not. All of those character flaws that make Hardin who he is are still there. Their relationship is tumultuous, which makes Bella question herself and exacerbates her insecurities.

There's not much time between the two reuniting after the werewolf is out of the bag -Get it? like the 'cat out of the bag?'- and when Bella leaves for Italy to save Edward. This moment triggers Hardin's abandonment issues big time and this is the moment Bella spends the next three books trying to overcome with Hardin. She does come back with Edward and she does continue her relationship as she did in Eclipse and Breaking Dawn, but with the added layer of sexual history and intense chemistry with Hardin throughout the rest of the saga, Bella struggles much more with her feelings for both men. Sex complicates things in a big way and definitely proved her feelings for Hardin very early on in the saga.

This also adds so much more complexity to her relationship with Edward, who very much knows what happened while he was away and very much blames himself for how Bella and Hardin's relationship developed - as he did with Bella and Jacob.

Ultimately, do I think that Bella would choose Hardin over Edward in the end? No. But Hardin does present a compelling swap that I'd say could keep you truly wondering if she was going to change her mind at any point.

I would like to assert here that Renesmee should never have happened like that and I will not even discuss the repercussions.

In the end, Bella would choose Edward for all the things that Hardin is not and cannot be; a perfect God-like creature that shifted her entire perspective of what life was and what life could be. Hardin, or Jacob, could never compete with that.

But the saga would have been so much more dynamic with the tension and the complexity that sex brings to a love story. Imagine Bella tossing and turning at night, Edward agonizing over hearing Hardin's name on her lips. Imagine Edward being tormented by Hardin's mental replays of his nights with Bella every time he looks at her. Imagine how much more conflicted Edward would be about his sexual relationship with Bella! The added complexity of his feelings of her being with Hardin and being nervous!! Oh, I can't even go into that right now...

It would make so much more sense for him to want to commit to her in marriage too! He'd want to solidify their love in a new and different way than she had with Hardin. And it would probably be the reason Bella would agree to it.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[ilookattextile]

I am doing quilt detective work, finding out the history of this quilt, dated 1856. First patch reads, “Presented to Mrs. M. J. Howard by her friends in Readfield, Maine, after an [absence?] of 22 years." Second Patch: “For Dear Aunt Mary Jane, from Franky.” 

Excerpt from a genealogy book states: Mary Jane, b. July 18, 1813, in Readfield, Me.; d. in Boston, June 1863;  m. Sept. 2, 1834, Thomas Miller Howard of Boston, son of Asa and Susanna (Randall) Howard, who was b. May 9, 1805, in Easton, Mass., and d. Feb. 15, 1875, in Boston.”

“Franky” may refer to Mary Jane’s nephew Frank Brown Morril, who was born to her sister Hannah in 1853 in Readfield. He would have been 3 years old, so we can assume that his inscription was written for him by someone else.

Third Patch reads: “Aunt Bean” Excerpt indicates “Bean” was the maiden name of Mary Jane’s Mother, Hannah Bean. At the time the quilt was given to Mary Jane, in 1856, she had been married to Thomas Howard for 22 years, and perhaps living in Boston. 

Final photo is the house (which functioned also as a general store, post office and public hall for the town) where Mary Jane grew up. 

[creations-by-chaosfay]

Fun fact! I have patterns for sampler quilts!

Make the Cut byGnome Angel is a foundation paper pieced quilt with a hidden layout for the scissors, but I won't use that layout be a use the background blocks will be faded. That's boring, and I don't do boring. The pattern also has different size options, from 57x67 inches to 96x96 inches. Oh, and 100 blocks. Fewer blocks for the smaller sizes, but all of them for the king size.

Small note: king size quilts start at $10k. They will take about a year to make, start to finish. I don't want to make a king size quilt, but that much money will be very big incentive!

This sampler is smaller, with I think 36 8x8 inch blocks. I think it's a lap size, but I could be wrong. Anyone feel like doing the math for me? Thank you, @tj-crochets for doing the math!!! 48x48 inches without borders (I nearly always add borders).

This is another big sampler by Gnome Angel, with traditional piecing and multiple size options. Oh, and 100 blocks. The largest is I think king size.

Last of my printed samplers is this book. The Farmer's Wife 1930s sampler quilt, all foundation paper pieced because soooo many of the pieces are tiny. There are multiple sizes, from lap to king.

Now as for what a sampler quilt is, it's a quilt with many different types of blocks, giving you a sample of each. Some patterns repeat a few blocks, others do not. They're a fantastic way to practice different blocks and use up scraps. You don't actually need a sampler pattern either. Just make a bunch of different blocks, ideally the same size for ease of arranging them. Look up "Dear Jane quilt" and you'll see the ultimate sampler. I might make a Dear Jane quilt someday, but not anytime soon. Commissions are always prioritized.

If a sampler is something you want, say so in the commission info when you purchase one. If a king size is what you want, I'm not joking when I say $10k. It will be $5k upfront and monthly payments thereafter. The amount of fabric and batting will easily be $1k, and the amount of tike it will take to make it, from start to finish, will likely be over 1000 hours, if not more. I've spoken to quilters who have made king size quilts, and each said $10k for handquilting, $7k for machine quilting. I will be doing the quilting by hand unless you request otherwise. With the 50% payment, I'll purchase the Cutie Breeze quilting frame I have on my Throne wishlist, and practice machine quilting on that.

If a sampler quilt is the type you want, commission me. It's gonna be a long time before I make one without it being a commission. Why? I have patterns chose and fabric pulled for quilts I really want to make.

[thiswasinevitableid]

77. a prophecy said that we’ll save the world together but I’ll be damned if I enjoy your company while we do because you insulted my best friend the first time we met

Ot4, sfw, please!

Here you go! I'm very pleased with this one

The drive hasn’t changed. The road into Kepler goes under the same covered bridges and winds up the same hills it always has. Even the views from driveway to the October House are the same one’s he watched through back windows with rising delight. He’d hoped to get here when the fall colors were still crisp and bright, but they droop from the branches like mourners from the weight of the grey rain.

No one batted an eye when he said he was moving North on Joe’s invitation; Joseph Stern inherited the ancestral home in Vermont, with its sprawling grounds and stately decay. It would make sense that he’d ask the friend who spent so many summers with him there to take up the role of groundskeeper.

Duck pulls his truck into the carport next to a languishing Chrysler Imperial. He runs his finger over the black curves, raindrops plinking on the tin roof as he wonders whether he could coax Joe into taking him for a ride.

He leaves his bags in the car for now. Letting his friend know he’s here is the top priority.

The house is just as tall and mismatched as he remembers, turrets and wide windows mixed with sloping eaves and a sun room. It’s patchwork quilt character extends to it’s color; some walls are red, others goldenrod, and the door is bright as a ripe pumpkin.

Joe christened it the October House the first summer he and Duck visited there. Joseph’s aunt, a proud spinster, suggested his transplant parents send him to the family farm for a few months of growth. When Joe showed his characteristic skepticism about spending his summer alone in Vermont, she offered to let him bring a friend. He chose Duck every year.

The October House was the last thing they spoke about the night before Duck left for basic training (and, soon after, Normandy). Joe was already slipping off the map, recruited for secret purposes by men who valued his intelligence over his humanity. He told Duck to remember the summer they were thirteen, to remember he was brave.

It wasn’t Duck Newton’s first war, but it was for damn sure his last.

He opens the door with the tarnished key Joe sent him. Anywhere else, he’d call out to find his host. But he knows where he’ll be.

One flight of creaking stairs, a left turn down the hallway of faded photos, a right into the room with the mural of Noah’s Ark on the wall, and there he is. Black hair slicked back, blue silk robe covering old scars and new, and eyes that are bluer still turning to take him in.

That’s Joe alright; immaculate even in his madness.

“You’re here.” He stands, dazzling smile reflecting the firelight.

“Told you I’d come. Can’t leave you here to get buried alive in books.” He opens his arms, unsure even as he commits to the movement. Joe hesitates, then steps across crumpled maps of stars and seas to hug him.

“I missed you.” He whispers. Duck doesn’t mention that Joe was the one to disappear once the war was over. They had one night in Huntington celebrating the boys who made it home; Joe’s smile stayed painted on the whole time, but Duck couldn’t get him alone to ask why. Then he fled north and didn’t respond to letters.

“Missed you too, Joe.” He peers over the taller man’s shoulder, takes in the mural and all the materials on the floor. Duck steps from the hug, paper crunching under his boots as he goes to trace the door of the ark, “you’re tryin to go back.”

“I want proof Sylvain was real. I, I want to see it again, to know we didn’t dream it.”

“Got a scar on belly that says we didn’t.” Duck turns, slips his hands into his pockets, “why are you really tryin to go back? They told us we couldn’t, said that if we came home the gate would shut for good.”

Joe doesn’t answer right away, runs his fingers over the badgers and bears fleeing the flood, “Do you ever wish we’d stayed?”

Duck thinks about bloody sand. Then about Jane getting married. His folks celebrating their twentieth anniversary.

“No. Christ, Joe, we were thirteen. It was fucked up to ask us to. Who the fuck asks two kids to rule a kingdom?”

A weak laugh, “and people say I’m the smart one.”

“You are.” Duck touches his shoulder, “now c’mon, smart guy, you don’t show me where my room is, I’m takin yours.”

------------------------------------------------

“You sure this is the spot?” Barclay keeps a close eye on the gathering darkness for any bursts of sickly white.

“Yes. The maps align with the stories that they emerged near “a stone like that of a broken heart.” Indrid draws hurriedly in the dirt with his claws, his lower hands uncorking bottles as he does, “come closer, if this catalyzes before I expect, I do not want you to be left behind.”

Barclay sets a hand on his shoulder. Feels his feathers shudder as he inhales.

“It’s time. I, if this does not work, I am sorry.”

He bends, kisses Indrid between his antenna, “I trust you, little moth.”

Indrid hums as amber light fills the clearing, and then everything he knows and loves dissolves into heat and empty air.

---------------------------------------------------

It's the same static, the rush of heat like wind in a wildfire. The hairs on Duck’s arm snap to attention as Joe leaps from his chair. The door on the ark shimmers and glows with alien majesty. Then two figures fall face-first on the floor and the light is gone.

“Are you alright?” Joe bends to help the first, feathered shape but it stands in a flurry of down, the hairy figure following suit.

“Yesyes, we are fine.” The feathery one looks like a massive moth with some human features.

“Oh.” Joe grins, “I’ve never seen a Sylph like you before. This, this is incredible.”

“You know what we are?” The other asks hopefully.

“We do. We, I’m, I’m Joseph Stern, and this is Duck Newton-”

“Thank the stars.” The mothman bends one knee, his friend doing the same, “yes, we are humble emissaries of the kingdom of Sylvain. We have searched for months to find our way to you. You, who prophecy says will aid us, return and take your rightful place as kings, and save our home once more.”

“No. Nuh-uh, not a fuckin chance.” Duck steps back, spots conflict in Joe’s eyes.

“What do you mean?” The mothman stands, “you, the prophecy, my visions showed you-”

“Then they showed fuckin wrong. I just got my life into some kind of order, I’m not letting you and some giant fuckin ape-thing drag me into another mess.”

Red eyes narrow, “Do not speak of Barclay that way.”

“I’ll speak about him however I damn well please because this is my house!”

“Technically, it’s my house.” Joe sighs, “But Duck is right. We almost died saving Sylvain once before. As, as much as I miss it, I’m not sure I can go back if it means risking our lives again. I was sort of hoping for a middle ground between being stuck here and a near-death adventure.”

“Please-” Barclay steps towards Joe.

“Hey, he said no, so fuck off.” Duck growls. The Sylph growls back.

“Buddy, do you have any idea how much we risked to get here? How much energy Indrid just used to open the gate. Oh, and, by the way, without the stuff we came here for we can’t go home. We’ll be stuck here.”

“Then you shoulda had a back-up plan instead of assumin you could just say a few fancy words and get us to go back. Oughta get some brains to go with the brawn there, big fella.”

“Enough” Indrid hisses, glaring at Duck. “I do not care if you are a chosen one, nothing gives you the right to speak to him, or to me, so callously. We came to you, you who are--if I did not make it clear--our last hope, and you respond with cruelty. I ought to teach you manners, but I will restrain myself.”

“Like to see you try.” He turns to where Joe is carding a hand through his hair, expression lost, “it’s your place, so you decide how we get rid of ‘em. But I’m done here.” With that, he stomps down the stairs, already suspecting Joe will let the Sylphs stay. When it becomes clear that’s the plan, Duck heads into the garden to work and stays there until all the lights are off.

It’s just after midnight when he wakes from a dream, slicing at the air while weak cries die on his tongue. He sits up, then goes gravestone still as the door opens. Indrid’s eyes are warning lights in the dark hall.

“Are you hurt? It did not seem fair to leave your calls unanswered.”

“No. Just had a, uh, a bad dream.”

The Sylph steps through the door, turning on the small, standing lamp, “It is strange to be the only one not waking in terror for once. Well, I suppose Barclay doesn’t.”

Duck tosses off the blanket, “Fuck, is Joe-”

“He is fine now. Barclay was up looking at cookbooks when he started screaming and went to him. Your friend did not wish to wake you, but was so shaken Barclay offered to stay with him.” A little smile, “he is very comforting. Soft, too.”

“You’re sure he was just dreamin? Not sick or anythin?”

“Positive. He was yelling in some other language.” Indrid fiddles with the knick-knacks on a shelf.

Duck runs a hand across his face, “Probably German.”

Indrid cocks his head.

“He had to learn it when he was a, uh, a spy in the last war. The one here. He...he got caught, I only know that because everyone talked about how miraculous it was that he escaped. Joe never talks about it.”

“One can imagine why.” Indrid murmurs.

“Then ‘one’ can probably imagine why I don’t want either of us near a goddamn battlefield.” Duck snaps.

“Is...oh dear, you think that is what we’re asking of you? Nono, we came here for help in preventing a war, one that may destroy both our worlds.”

“You coulda led with that, y’know?”

“I suppose. I, I am, or was, the court seer. But as the evil spread across our kingdom, it disrupted my powers. Now they’re gone entirely. It’s as if I am navigating the woods with no compass and no stars.” His antenna droop. Duck turns the chair near his bed in invitation. The Sylph moves quietly across the worn boards, “The last vision I received before they disappeared was of you two helping us; I saw a new timeline of futures, bright and hopeful, unfurl before it was gone. When you said you would not help us, it was like ripping my wings from my body mid-flight. That is why I was angry. Well, that and how you spoke to Barclay.”

“Sorry about that.” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “I just...when y’all showed up, all I could think about was bein back in the middle of a fight. Of, of seein Joe die.”

“I am sorry too. I did not know you had suffered such things.” Indrid picks at the blanket with chipped claws, “I cannot promise there would not be danger if you aid us. But I give you my word that you shall hear no more of it from me. I only wish for you to accept this quest if you wish to.”

“Thanks. That already puts you ahead of the last time.”

Indrid hums, then peers at Duck’s arm where a tattoo peeks from his shirt, “What is that?”

Duck rolls up his sleeve to reveal the pine tree, “got it because it helped me think of home.”

“Yes but how? To wear art on one’s skin, that is amazing. Do you think they could do it on mine?” He holds out his upper right arm. Duck runs a finger up it, thinking of the polished cherrywood on the table downstairs.

“Might be tricky. You need skin for it to work.”

“Blast.” Wings flutter once, “do you have more I may see?”

Duck unbuttons his shirt as Indrid scoots closer; if he’s not going to sleep tonight, at the very least he can make someone happy.

-------------------------------------

“Gotta say, y’all bein’ here is doin’ wonders for him.” Duck hands Barclay a glass of water as he joins him on the porch. Joseph and Indrid are sitting on a sunny path of lawn, Indrid showing the human his wings and explaining them in detail so he can make notes.

“Seems to go both ways. Indrid hasn’t been this animated since we left to find you two. He’s even more talkative.”

“Joe’s always been good at that. He can get anyone talkin, and can make almost anythin sound interestin.”

Barclay sneaks a glance at the human; he’s much friendlier these last two weeks, but his protectiveness of Joseph hasn’t waned.

“I wouldn’t say him cheering up is all on us. From what he told me, the week you got here made him feel like his cares were washing away.”

“Really?”

Barclay nods.

Duck sips his water, rubs the condensation with his thumb, “In, uh, in Sylvain, am I rememberin right that men could marry men? Ain’t always easy to tell when there’s so many kinds of beings runnin’ around.”

“Why wouldn’t that be okay? Some kinds of Sylphs, like Indrid’s, don’t even have things like men and women. I mean, when they offered you and Joseph a chance to rule as kings, the records make it sound like the two of you would have gotten married.”

Duck chokes on his water, splutters as Barclay pats his back, “I, fuck, I’d never, we’d never, I, fuck, definitely never ever didn’t think about it.”

Barclay lets the horrible excuse for a lie slide, “It’s a way bigger deal that Indrid chose me for this; being a seer makes him noble and I’m just a cook. Going off into the wild with me? Trusting me? Thought some of the ministers were gonna faint.”

“Was it just you helpin him or are you two, uh, y’know?”

“Yeah, I do. Can you blame me? Look at him” he gestures to where Indrid is spreading his wings so Joseph can study them. Stars would he like to go down there and hold the human tight while he taught him how to make Indrid purr.

“He really is somethin.” By the look on his face, Duck wants to do the same thing, just in reverse. After a moment, he murmurs, “the night before we were supposed to face the Red Devourer Joe and I were in the tent by the battlefield. Curled back to front, my arms around him and I could feel his heart beating hard as mine. Shoulda been thinkin about strategy, or prayin, or somethin’ like that, but all I could think was that I oughta kiss him, just in case we didn’t survive. But I didn’t. There were chances after that. I never took ‘em.”

“It’s not too late.”

“If you found out Indrid wanted to kiss you for years and was too chicken to, even when he thought he was gonna die, would you really let him?”

Barclay thinks of claws in his fur, of Indrid huddled against him and chirping softly when Barclay asked to kiss him.

“Of course I would.”

--------------------------------

“How long until the summer?” Indrid tosses the wool scarf Duck lent him over one wing.

“Months. Y’all got here in October, which means we ain’t even into the worst of the winter yet.”

An annoyed chirr, “We need more blankets.”

“Get you more when we’re in town tomorrow, fluffball. Hah, here’s some.” Duck kneels to cut some surviving leaves from a wild yarrow. They’re out in the woods because Indrid is running low on his feather oil, which keeps him from being miserable and itchy. He described what it did and let Duck smell some (it’s a bit like aloe and vanilla) so the human could reverse engineer what earth plants might do the trick.

Duck brushes off his pants, looks around, “Huh, we made it to the Maples. Joe’s aunt said she never got much from ‘em, but I don’t think she ever really tried.”

“What is special about them?”

“It’s how you get maple syrup. It’s in these trees.” Duck smirks, remembering Indrid licking the dregs from the bottle at the house with his long, long tongue.

Crunch

He whirls to his left, finds Indrid with both rows of teeth sunk into a maple branch. He giggles, then guffaws as the Sylph pulls off with an indignant chirp.

“You, you gotta, hee, you gotta tap the trunk, n-hee” he doubles over as Indrid bites the same branch while drumming his claws on the trunk, “not quite, need some other tools.”

“Perhaps lead with that?” Indrid grumbles, wiping bark from his face.

“S-sorry just, just didn’t expect you to go to town on it like that, heee”

Indrid grins, “It was worth it to hear you laugh like this.”

God, when was the last time he laughed this hard? The thought sobers him, his joy faltering like a bird in a storm. Then he cackles as four spindly arms hoist him into the air.

“ACKhey, put me down fluffball! Ahhno thatheee, that tickles.” He laughs louder as Indrid holds him to his chest and rubs his fuzzy face against his neck.

“I thought that might do the trick” Indrid purrs, nuzzles his cheek, “no more despair, Duck Newton. Not today.”

Duck turns his face so they’re eye to eye, pine green to ruby red, “Deal.”

---------------------------------------------

“I found everything on the list.” Joseph crumples the note paper and tosses it away as Barclay gleefully unpacks the shopping bags.

“This is so fucking great, I can’t wait for you guys to try this, and Indrid is going to lose his mind when he sees what I made. This dessert is his favorite.” He tucks the heavy cream and pears into the fridge.

“I’m excited to try it. We definitely didn’t eat any tarts when we were in Sylvain. The badgers who hid us from the red mist were, I think, pretty poor.”

“Yeah, the borderlands were bad off in those days. I was just a kid too but I remember digging out roots to try and make some kind of soup.” The Sylph turns those endearing brown eyes on him, “up for being my kitchen assistant again?”

“Always.” Joseph tucks a dishcloth into his belt. He’s very proud of himself for finding earth equivalents to all the ingredients Barclay needed to make a fall dinner from home. Having the Sylphs living with them means he goes into Kepler more often for groceries or goods to fix up the house. Everyone in town thinks his childhood friend is a good influence, getting him out of the stuffy confines of the October House.

They’re not wrong. When Joseph saw Duck in the doorway, a little world-worn but just as kind, just as practical as he always was, he decided that if the other man didn’t want to return to Sylvain, Joseph would set the project aside. He’d focus on the world he was in, because with Duck there he might yet find things to marvel at, things to discover that weren’t mired in the mundanity of human evil. They’d make the October House into a home, live out their days as bachelors.

Then Barclay had come through, auburn-furred and so gentle Joseph wanted to make like butter in the sun and melt. And Indrid, magnificent and vulnerable (and very infatuated with Duck). When Duck announced he’d help them look for clues to stopping the war, Joseph felt buried bits of his mind rising to the light of the new challenge.

After dinner, they take a pot of coffee into the living room. Indrid is delighted by records, is already putting one on as Barclay puts wood on the fire. The seer lays on the rug, head in his lovers lap and purring low.

Love me like there's no tomorrow

kiss me like it's goin' out of style

“You know, I wonder how one dances to this. It is not fast, but the rhythm is not like the formal dances at court.”

“Here, I’ll show you.” Duck stands, offering Joseph his hand. Lord, he’s pictured this so many times but still has to coax his own hand to move, “Joe, you’re leadin.”

He settles his hand on Duck’s hip and holds the other, concentrates on swaying them to the beat.

Hold me like you're afraid I might get away

Love like I've been gone for quite a while

“You can come closer, Joe. I ain’t gonna bite. Not in front of company.”

“I’m holding you to that.” He presses closer, prays for Duck to rest his head on his shoulder.

Take and wrap me in the package

my future my presence and my past

And love me like there's no tomorrow

and each day might be our last

“Dearest, I am rather tired from that lovely meal you made. Shall we retire?”

“Good thinking, little moth.”

Love me like there's no tomorrow

Make each night one more remembered

we will let the heaven be our guide

“Seems they didn’t need much of a demonstration.”

“Not sure that was Indrid’s endgame.”

Just love me like there's no tomorrow

and keep me right by your side

Joseph tips his head down, whispering, “What was?”

Keep me right by your side

“Duck?”

In the crackle of silence between songs, Duck brings their lips together. Joseph forgoes their stance and pulls him against him, their hearts magnets that were finally turned the right way. Then his feet stumble on the rug, Duck pushing him back with a ferocity he didn’t know he possessed.

Joseph drops into the chair, Duck pouncing before as he breathes. Joseph growls, the hunger that’s been chained threatening to crack his chest from the inside, and nips Duck’s lower lip.

“I said no bitin.”

“You said you wouldn’t bite.”

“You're right, darlin’” Duck cups his cheek as Joseph grips his thighs, “I’m gonna do so much more than bite.”

----------------------------------------

It never gets easier, waking from these dreams steeped in shame, fear, and sweat. Except this time someone’s arms are around him.

“I’m right here Joe, we’re here, we’re safe.”

“Very safe.” Indrid stands behind Barclay in the doorway, “another dream?’

“Yes. I, um, I-” he reaches for Barclay without meaning to, is ready to apologize when the Sylph slides into bed beside him.

“Is this okay?” It’s directed at both the humans.

“Yes.”

“Uh huh.”

Barclay adjusts so Joseph can hide his face in his chest. He should ask Indrid if he wants to be on the bed as well, the poor Sylph might think he’s not wanted-

“C’mon fluffball, my back is gettin cold.”

A delighted chirp and then a wing, black with a grey and red eyespot, drapes across him and Duck.

“Mmmmmm, I knew you would be lovely to hold.”

“Aim to please, sugar.”

“What happens now?” Barclay murmurs.

“My vote is we all get some sleep and work out the particulars in the mornin’.”

“Seconded” Joseph mumbles.

“We will need a good night’s rest; tomorrow I make the disguises for myself and Barclay so that we may begin our wider search.”

“Hope you guys like them.”

Joseph squeezes Barclay, smiling as Duck wiggles closer and Indrid’s wing grows heavier, “We’ll love them no matter what, big guy.”

[threesails]

Practicing my hand quilting. This square I made with absolutely no understanding of quilting: I made it out of an instructionless diagram in a dear Jane book that my gram handed me to take home after my first quilting lesson. The triangles in the middle are actually triangles that I cut and then carefully placed. Each square and rectangle I cut to size plus a quarter inch seam allowance, sewed, and didn’t cut down afterwards. I made a whole Ohio Star with this method.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Wednesday 16 December 1835

7 ¼

11 20

No kiss ready in 1 5 hour damp very foggy morning - can scarce see ½ dozen yards before one - F40° at 8 20 am breakfast at 8 ½ and sat reading in till 9 ¾ the last Quarterly just come the 1st few (14 or 15) pages of the article Heine on Germany - out at 9 50 at the Lower fishpond and from 10 to 11 ¾ with Messrs. Holt and Washington levelling and staking out engine pit and engine pit upper drift and dam - it seems Mr Rawson has been trying to get hold of Mr Holmes to buy an useless  goit with the view of my Shibden coal for which Mr Holmes means to bid at the letting - the drift of this clear enough told Holt I had had an idea of it - and gave him charge to take care and keep Mr Holmes aloof from having anything to do with Mr Rawson - said I knew there was deep planning to get hold this coal - and deeper than Holt himself or Holmes either suspected - I alluded darkly to my suspicion that Mr R- may try some roundabout way of getting hold of the Manns - ¾ hour at the Lower fishpond - then sauntering about on this side the cascade looking in all directions and considering how to form the mounding and little hills along the walk in this side - A- went to Cliff Hill (rode as usual) about 2 - came in soon after to Mr Jubb - my aunt better - said I thought she could not continue many days and Mr Jubb seemed not to dissent - Jane the housemaid very poorly - Sarah the kitchen maid decidedly beginning in a serious fever and to be sent home immediately - John my footman much worse - apparently beginning in small pox - no time to be lost - Mr Jubb’s young man bled him (John) till he almost fainted - ought to be got out of the house - Marian proposed his going to the Stag’s head - no! I knew Jonathan Mallinson would be frightened yet would not know how to refuse me and I would not ask him - I got the saddle room ready and instead of a woman nurse as proposed by Marian and Mr Jubb arranged with Frank to nurse - Mr Jubb approved the room and Frank - A- came back at 4 - furnished bed sheets blankets and quilt and all was nicely arranged before dinner and John was got into the saddle room about or soon after 6   Sarah having been taken home in a chaise by John Booth - dressed - dinner at 6 ¼ - Mary waited at table and is to do John Clarke’s work as far as she can - ¼ hour with my aunt coffee - near an hour with my father till 8 ¾ - then till 9 ½ wrote all the above of today - wrote and sent note by George this evening to the ‘Reverend Charles Musgrave Vicarage’ beginning dear Sir - saying it would be a great satisfaction.... ‘Dear sir, I think my aunt very poorly, and I am sure it would be a great satisfaction to her, as it would be to me, if you could come tomorrow - if not, on Friday, at any hour after ½ past 12 - I am afraid of delay - I hope your accounts from Torquay are as cheering as can be expected - I very sincerely condole with you all and beg my kind regards to Mrs. Musgrave. Believe me very truly yours A. Lister’ - sat some while talking to A- then 20 minutes with my aunt till 10 10 - no better - cannot bear to speak at all -  Fine day as far as a damp thick foggy day can be fine - very unwholesome weather -  a great deal of sickness and typhus and other fever about - F41° now at 10 ¼ pm

[bellagbear]

If your elders are like mine you have heard many times that mixing alcoholic drinks is a bad idea. I don’t agree with that, a cocktail can be a beautiful thing. The same way that a mix of various quilting techniques is a beautiful thing. I will tell you why in this article.

There are many different quilting techniques. I have already discussed several of them. And those articles don’t even touch on half of the techniques available. Sometimes it seems a new technique is invented every week. Therefore, it can be difficult to choose the right technique for the right pattern, especially because you also have to take into account the kind of fabric you are using!

However, I don’t want to discourage you from quilting with endless lists of techniques you can use. In this article, I will show you quilt blocks made from some classic techniques that have been around for a long long time. These techniques will help you on your way to become a master quilter yourself. These techniques I’ll show you with the help of some blocks of the Dear Jane sampler quilt.  I will end the article with 4 tips to keep in mind when combining techniques.

If you know very little about quilting or just like to read my articles, check the ones below to learn more about the individual techniques:

Quilting techniques with Dear Jane 101: Foundation piecing

Quilting techniques 101 with the Dear Jane quilt: Y-seams

The Dear Jane quilt techniques: the magic reverse applique quilting trick

Dear Jane quilt: the quilting techniques you hate, or why practice is paramount: Applique.

See the article below to find out more about the Dear Jane sampler quilt. A sampler quilt is a brilliant way to teach yourself new techniques. Each block is made of a different pattern. Therefore, every block you make requires a different way of thinking to figure out how to sew the particular quilt block.

Introduction to the Dear Jane sampler quilt

Dear Jane Quilt H-2: Jacob Anthony

In block H-2 below I used a combination of patchwork and needle turn applique. The needle turn applique is used in the two red triangles positioned at an angle from the triangles in the middle.  In a previous similar-looking block, C-2 Streak of lightning, I used the Y-seam technique to make this block. However, this pattern has sharp corners and the blue fabric is too thick to use that technique. Both needle turn and the Y-seam technique can be used for a block like this. When you use Y-seam I advise you to first sew the corners of the blue block together where the two pieces meet. When you use the Y-seam technique it is best to sew those corners last. This block shows that different techniques lead to similar results. However, not every kind of fabric is suitable for every technique, so choose accordingly. Adjusting a technique allows you to create a pattern with any fabric you want.

The colour combination of dark blue and red works really well for this block. It gives the block a lot of bad-ass attitude. Also, it reminds me of sailboats lolling in a lake. I realise this is a strange combination of associations.

Dear Jane Quilt Block G-12: Gloriae

This block was complicated.  I pieced it with a combination of needle turn applique and reverse applique.  Reverse applique places the fabric to be sown behind the background fabric instead of on top. In the pictures below you can see the steps used to construct this block.

First, I reverse appliqued the pink star on the green fabric. After that, I added the pink border with needle turn applique. I did it this way because I wanted to create a 3d effect. Now it looks as if the pink star is furthest away from the pink border. The pink border looks like a window sill. When you are combining techniques there are more possibilities of creating interesting 3d effects like this in your quilt blocks.

I love the combination of green and pink. I probably love it because it is not a frequently used combination. Combining unconventional colour combinations with more normalized ones is a great way to make your quilt pop and look interesting and still maintain the homely feel of quilts we all love.

Dear Jane Quilt Block J-10: Chieko’s Calla Lilly

The next block I’ll show you is an unsuccessful combination of techniques. I am showing you this block to show you we all live and learn.  Also, maybe this helps you to prevent making the same mistake. This block combined the foundation piecing technique with needle turn applique and reverse applique. Both the applique techniques were used to create a similar 3d effect as in block G-12 Gloriae.

However, it turns out if your layers of fabric become too thick reverse applique doesn’t work anymore. In reverse applique, you cut the background fabric and fold it to the back. The hole you creates the shape of the pattern. However, the foundation piecing adds an extra layer which makes the block bulky. Also, it was difficult to fold the red fabric under because there was not enough space. Needleturn applique only folds one layer of fabric underneath the piece you’re sewing which prevents bulkiness. You can see the difference in neatness between the yellow petals (reverse applique) and the red ones (needle turn applique).

This is the first Dear Jane block I actually want to re-do. I am not sure if I will in the end though because I promised myself at the start to keep all the blocks. In that way, the different skill level of all the blocks will reflect my journey as a quilter. I even wrote about my less skilled blocks in a post to make that point. I am still disappointed with how this block turned out. I really love the colour combination and the reverse applique technique, but couldn’t make it work this time. I learned that it doesn’t work to combine a technique that creates extra layers of fabric with a technique that requires as little fabric as possible.

I’m not ashamed: humble Dear Jane quilt blocks

Dear Jane Quilt Block H-9: Snowflake Melt

I want to end this post with another nice block, number H-9 Snowflake Melt. The colour combination of dark green and blue is so nice and calming. Also, this block reminds me of a windmill and a windmill in a landscape is a beautiful thing.

This block combined the foundation piecing technique with reverse applique. I know I said with the previous block to not combine those techniques. However, this block shows us that there are rules, and there are times to break those rules. The previous block was very crowded at the places where the points of the petals meet. This increased the amount of fabric to be folded away under the same space even more than the layer foundation piecing adds. The block below has only four reverse applique pieces which are far enough apart to work out. So, the lesson with this last block is to always consider for each quilt pattern individually which techniques are best to use.

Conclusion: What have we learned about mixing quilt techniques?

Adjusting a technique allows you to make a pattern with any fabric you want

When you are combining techniques there are more possibilities of creating interesting 3d effects in your quilt blocks.

It doesn’t work to combine a technique that creates extra layers of fabric with a technique that requires as little fabric as possible.

Always consider for each quilt pattern individually which techniques are best to use

Even though the last lesson tells us that there are no rules, I still hope this article taught you wonderful things. And remember: the know-how to match a pattern with the best technique is something that comes with experience. Don’t be afraid to make some mistakes along the way. As you saw in my block J-10 a block will always come together no matter what. Don’t be too hard on yourself, keep practising and celebrate every block you finish with a kiss and soon you’ll notice yourself getting better and better.

If you need any help to decide which technique to use for a particular pattern feel free to send me a message. You can use the commentary section, email or find me on one of my social media accounts details of which are on the bottom of this article.

Some questions for you:

Which combination of techniques do you use most?

What is your favourite ‘conventional’ colour combination?

What is your favourite ‘unconventional’ colour combination?

Did you like this article and would you like more of this kind of articles in the future?

Would you like to know more?

The Kenyan Quilt top is finished!

A Nearly Insane quilter quilting QAYG?

A sneak peek of a future project and article

HQAL

This post is part of the hand quilting along organized by Kathy. We are a group of quilters who want to support each other in our quest for hand quilting. Since my Dear Jane is completely made by hand this project qualifies. If you are interested in joining us send Kathy a message. Also, check out the work of the other wonderful quilters in the links below.

Kathy, Margaret, Emma, Tracy, Deb, Susan,  Nanette,  Edith, Sharon, Karrin, Gretchen, Kathi,  Bella, Daisy and Connie

See my DeviantArt or Instagram (username: bella.g.bear.art) for more artwork and WIPs. You can also follow my blog by clicking on the button on the left or by filling in your email address. There will be a monthly update at the end of every month and a new blog post every Sunday or Monday.

Other places you can find me is email (Bellagbearart@gmail.com), Facebook (@BellaGBearArt Page).

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How to combine various quilting techniques in one block If your elders are like mine you have heard many times that mixing alcoholic drinks is a bad idea.