The Quilting Olympics

I have heard that the 1863 quilt by Jane A. Stickle is the Quilt to beat all quilts. Apparently, if you can complete this handmade, intricate, mathematical quilt, than you have achieved the ultimate height of quilt-making. A Queen of Quilts. Or as I like to call it: the Quilting Olympics!

So I have become a Dear Jane girl at our local quilting store Village Fabrics. I was excited when I saw that a group was starting up as this is one quilt that has intrigued me for awhile, and I have always throught that I would like to give it a try. I know that it is a long term project - and if I want it to be authentic it all has to be hand-pieced, though as one of the ladies in my class said, there is no patchwork police hanging over our shoulders to check!

There are 7 of us in the ongoing class, and we meet every Sunday afternoon for a few hours to stitch our block of the week. We have had Ann Higgs teaching us the various applique methods for the first few weeks which has been educational! And then we get to choose the method we like best. I think I prefer the freezer paper and needleturn method of applique.

It has been fun to meet new people. Quilting ladies are always lovely, I find - and generous. When I told the class I wanted to do mine exclusively in French General fabrics, I was immediately plied with offcuts and scraps that the ladies had stashed in their cupboards that they swear they don't want anymore! How kind!

Look at this lovely bundle!

And so I begin the cataloguing of my tiny little 4 inch squares, and there is something rather compelling about them. I look forward to my class each week, and I'm enjoying the challenge. Because this quilt is very mathematical, it truly is a challenge for my non-mathematical brain. I expect it will take me years to complete this, and when it's all sewn together, there's the handquilting to do to finish it. But I like the challenge!

This Pinwheel Gone Awry is actually the first square in the book, but was our homework for last week, and there were lots of complaints when we turned up at the class this week! Nobody like doing this one - and if I can forget about how much I hated it, I might redo it at a later stage. But so far it is an exception - I've enjoyed all the other squares! Also, check out the lovely names of the squares. I love their romance!

New Zealand Women Are . . .

. . . Amazing! That's what I think after reading this book while on holiday this week.

I wandered into the resort's tiny little library. Actually, just a small bookshelf, in the hopes of finding an Agatha Christie or some similar thriller, and finding nothing but Barbra Cartland-type novels I was about to flounce out of there in disappointment when I saw, tucked in amongst all the pathetic romance novels this little gem. I opened it and was hooked from the first page.

Maybe it's because of my own interest in sailing - and yes, I have to admit I did enjoy all the technical descriptions of halyards and main sails and gybing, and the little plan of the inside of the ship. But mostly I was thrilled with her story - amazed too at the courage of Naomi James - the first woman in the world to sail single-handedly around the world via Cape Horn in 1978. She made a world record. 272 days alone at sea. Imagine that! And she is a kiwi - born and raised on a farm in the Hawkes Bay.

What was inconceivable to my timid nature was her decision to do this when she was only a fairly novice sailor! She didn't even learn to swim until she was in her twenties - which in itself is unusual for a New Zealander. She has even said that she learned to sail on her trip around the world! Her diaries and accounts of her solo voyage is fascinating and gripping. I loved all the little details of what she had to eat - what she craved. How she could speak by radio to people in England and New Zealand when she was in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Of the people she met in South Africa - of the elderly Dutchman who bought her oranges and a survival kit on the eve of her departure.

I loved every chapter of this book. Unfortunately it is no longer available to buy new, so as I have my copy on a long-term loan from the resort (we are regulars there, so they let me borrow it), I am having to keep my eye out for my own copy online.

She is now a Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire, having earned that after her success, and lives in Ireland (I believe), and from what I can find out has not sailed again since her husband was drowned after falling overboard on a race some 5 years after her voyage.

If you can find a copy of this book in the library, I heartily recomend it as a good and exciting read - she is a forgotten heroine, but her amazing courage and fortitude has inspired me this week. I've added her to my list of inspirational people I'd like to meet. But she hasn't inspired me so far that I'd want to do the same thing as her in sailing around the world solo. It was the heavy weather account in the Southern Seas that put me off. I also had to laugh at her description of New Zealand being a 'shipping hazard' as she passed below us in the middle of the night!

No, I think I'll just stick to the Hauraki Gulf for my sailing thrills.

Mid-Life Crisis?

For the past six months or so, life has been a little strange. Rob and I have been on a journey of sorts. With so much going on in our lives two things have remained the same. Strong. Worthy. Constant. That is, our faith in God, and our love for each other.

But the rest of our world has been mixed up, shaken up, tossed upside down and turned over and over. Do you know I have not picked up a stitch of sewing or done anything creative that I normally would do as my outlet for the craziness for 6 months. I haven't even felt my normal need to write here on my blog.

Some things that have happened in my past have reared up and given me cause to rethink everything in my life that happened to me from the age of 20 onwards. I've been going over old choices, old decisions and wondering what would have happened if I had taken the other path. Where would I be right now? What would I be doing?

Just because I've been thinking about that doesn't necessarily mean that I believe I've taken the wrong pathway, just that with new information that has come to my knowledge lately, it has made me reassess where I'm going in life.

I took this picture of me the other day. I looked at it and thought, "I'm 40. I'm still relatively young. I hopefully still have some of my best years ahead of me. What do I want to do with them?"

I have four amazing children, and I could spend the next 10-15 years just being their mother. Just making their lunches, cleaning up their messes, transporting them here, there and everywhere, making sure they do their homework and get their projects handed in on time. Arranging play dates with friends, having birthday parties etc, etc. I could quite easily fill my days up with all those things. And they are good things. Worthy things. But then, one by one, they will leave home and go out to find their own pathway in the world. And what then for me? What will I do? I will be in my mid 50's and while it wouldn't be too late to do anything else, I would have given up 15 years. Do I want that? My mother did it. My grandmothers did it. Lots of women have done it. But will I be happy with that? Is that where happiness lies for me?

And I'm afraid, that for me, I want something else out of life. I want to do something that pleases me. I want to write. I want to accomplish something because I challenged myself and my intellect. It is a revelation that has come to me because in the past I was successful because I was pretty. Doors opened for me because of my looks. That is what my crisis has shown me. It's true. It's terrible. And it's a sad fact that it happens everyday to thousands of girls all over the world.

All my life I have been a people-pleaser. I have been afraid of rejection. I have wanted people to like me. There's nothing wrong with that, but what would happen if I stopped worrying about what others thought of me? What would happen if my reputation as a good christian girl was destroyed and lying in ruins?

I believe that God gives everyone something that they're good at. A talent. I wish that God had given me the gift of art. Truly I do. I would like nothing better than to be able to sit down with canvas and paint and create a beautiful picture. But He didn't. As hard as I try I can't get past the elementary school art look. But I do believe He did give me the ability to write. Since I was 5 years old I have wanted to write. I don't actually particularly enjoy it, but there's something in me that must write. I got really mad at someone the other day (it wasn't my husband or any of my children). Like - really mad. And my only outlet was to write it out. I penned a scathing email to this person - I was so angry. I wrote down everything I thought about that person, everything I wanted them to know about themselves. And when it was done, I read it over and I deleted it. And I suddenly realised something. The anger was gone. Gone. I still wanted to be angry at this person. But I wasn't. Writing it out had cured me. That was my revelation that writing is part of me. I've read enough books and biographies to recognize that in other writers. It's an outlet. A passion. A need. I don't necessarily want it, but I've got it. And I'm going to pursue it. Perhaps I should have done it at 20. But I didn't. But I'm going to do it now, at 40.

I'm looking at my options and will hopefully be applying for a 3 year course in journalism. A course studied at home to suit my needs and the needs of my family. I can't go to the main journalism school anymore. My chance for that has passed. But thankfully, there is a school quite close to where I live that specialises in older students and I'm hoping to be accepted. If I don't get accepted for next year, I'll try again the following year.

I also want to learn to sail. The sea is in my blood. We are getting the children a little sailing dinghy for the summer, and I've roped in some of Rob's cousins to teach us how to do it. I learned when I was 14 years old at the famous Bucklands Beach Yacht Club, but all that is forgotten now, and I really, really want to relearn it. I want to know how to make a little ship do what you want on the ocean. I want to feel the wind on my face and hear the flapping of sail as I steer a boat through the sea. Rob loves boats too, and I can just see us as grandparents in 25-30 years taking little people out on our sailboat for a night's excursion around the Hauraki Gulf islands. Putting down anchor in a quiet, green little bay, listening to the lapping of the water around the belly of the boat. Mmmmmm. Love. My grandfather gave that love and that memory to me. How poetic it would be to pass that on to my grandchildren. I hope it happens like that. It's a nice dream anyway.

So is this a mid-life crisis? Maybe. But maybe I wouldn't have had it if those things in my past hadn't been brought to my attention again. Maybe this is my way of turning something bad into something good. All I know is that I want to live authentically. I want my life to count for something. I don't want to throw my talent back in God's face and say 'no thanks'. I want to put the past behind me. Deal with it. Learn from it. And then turn away from it. Turn away from the dark and turn towards the light. I want to lift my face towards the sun and embrace tomorrow.