Double stitching

Pfaff on the left and Frister+Rossmann on the right

                The past couple of weeks my studio/guest room has had the look of a sewing workshop.  That’s because I’ve had two sewing machines set up, using them in turn to make a dress for one of my granddaughters. 

                One model is a Smart manufactured  by Pfaff.  It is made of plastic and has 27 stitch options, plus button hole maker capabilities.  I got it in 2013 from my friend down the street.  She’d had it for over a year and never had it out of the box.  She decided that she was happy for me to buy if from her. 

               The other model is a Cub Twin-Dial manufactured by Frister+Rossmann.  This model is metal with only a straight and zigzag stitches.   I think it must have been made in the 1980’s based on the illustrations on the instruction manual. 

                Here is how I came by the Frister+Rossmann.  “Juliana”, with whom I attend church, will take used books, knickknacks, collectables and clothing in good condition for her favourite charity.  I had books to donate to her and so we scheduled a pick-up.  The day she came, “Juliana” had made a previous stop.  The woman had given “Juliana” a box of clothes, other bits-and-pieces and a sewing machine.  When she told me what it was, I asked her if the machine worked.  I was told that it did.  I asked her how much she wanted for it, as it was to go to the charity shop.  But she gave it to me—and so I told her I would let her know how I got on. 

                After carrying it upstairs I immediately got it out of the fragile cardboard box.  It had everything—which was very exciting.  I discovered that the bobbin-filler spool did not turn, and that the tension was out, as the bottom stitches were looping.  Even when I adjusted the tension the machine did not sew properly.  But those were the only problems with the machine and so I knew a service would set it all straight.

                I rang Mike Brown, who serviced my 1870’s Singer treadle sewing machine.  He came and collected it, bringing it back in ten days.  The repair and service was £51. 

The finished dresss

                I was working on a dress for my granddaughter “Tigger”, using orange thread for the bodice and black for the sleeves and skirt.  It was great fun to sit down and sew without having to change the thread on the machine every time. 

                My next project to sew is a wall-hanging for the Christmas Fayre in November.  I’ve found my design for this appliqué project, but have not picked out the colour and fabrics yet. 

                Tomorrow is a writing day—working on the Missions Prayer Magazine I do for our parish.  But I’ll be pondering over my next sewing project in the back of my mind. 

Serving Jesus, Author of our faith

“Lady Helene”

A friend, flowers and fun

               “Go look at my cactus on the window sill.”  Amy said as I walked into her flat.  I take the newspaper to Amy on Mondays and Thursdays.  So, I handed her the newspaper and took the shopping bag into the kitchen.  I would put the vegetable spread away while I was in there. 

                To meet my gaze was a blooming Christmas cactus.  Although October, it was in bloom now.  From the lounge Amy commented: “It’s supposed to bloom at Christmas time, but mine never does.  It always does it before.”

                Amy is 97 and lives alone, which most of her friends find amazing.  I met Amy through church.  A mutual friend with whom we attend church looks in on Amy on a regular basis.  When I first became aware of this, our friend was seeing her daily.  To provide a break for our friend, and give Amy another visitor,  I volunteered to take the paper twice a week. 

                Occasionally Amy will ring me and let me know that one of her daughters is coming and that I don’t need to get the paper.  But most weeks I ring her before going to the shops to see if she needs milk, bread, or any other item besides the paper.  

                Once I’m there, I take my coat off and stay for a chat, listening to her share about her life.  It means hearing a few stories again and again.  But on the other hand, Amy and I always have a laugh.  She likes to cook, and we’ll discuss food. She’s given me a couple of recipe books and shared recipes with me.   

                 Amy went into service when she was 14 years of age.  Her first job was as a mother’s help on a neighbouring farm.  At age 18 she went to London.  She met her husband there, and she found work in offices or shops.    

                Spending time with Amy is like spending time with my grandmother. 

                Occasionally Amy’s granddaughter will visit and bring flowers.  Amy very kindly and generously shares them with me.    

Amy shared these with me today:

First of all, I must define a term, knocker-up, 

Per Wikipedia  “A knocker-up (sometimes known as a knocker-upper) was a profession^[1] in Britain and Ireland that started during and lasted well into the Industrial Revolution and at least as late as the 1920s (mid 50s in Manchester, England. UK) before alarm clocks were affordable or reliable. A knocker-up's job was to rouse sleeping people so they could get to work on time.^[2”  

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Knocker-up

Tongue Twister

Our knocker-up has a knocker-up to knock him up.  And our knocker-up’s knocker-up  didn’t knock our knocker-up up, so our knocker-up didn’t knock us up.

Riddles

1)      What goes up a chimney down but won’t come down a chimney up? 

2)      What goes up when the rain comes down

Answer to both:  an umbrella

        Amy has many memories from World War 2.  The other day she was reminiscing about watching the plans flying over during the blitz, at which point she looked over at me and asked; “Do you remember that?”

        “Amy, I was only born in 1958!”  At that we both laughed. 

  I think that is an indication of how people’s lives can intermesh, regardless of age.  It is sharing common interests, time and laughter.  I know my life is richer for knowing her.

 

Serving Jesus, Author of our faith,

"Lady Helene"

The light shining in beauty

  

              Dreaming—thinking about desires that are part of your heart—can lead you places.  For me, I started dreaming of England when I was five years old and the film “Mary Poppins” came to the theatre.  Those images of chimneys at sunrise, the Bird Lady at St. Paul’s Cathedral, the beautiful countryside captured my heart.

                As a teenager, I decided that there were three things I wanted to do before I got married.

·         Write a book

·         Live independently from my parents at least six months to a year

·         Visit England. 

On Saturday, 17^th September 1983, I took my first plane ride and my first visit outside of America.  I was flying into Heathrow Airport, (Terminal One) on my first trip to England to visit my pen-friend.  She lived in Dagenham, and I was spending two weeks with her. 

Any infatuation I felt for England, and the UK, turned into real love.  One of my first impressions was of a couple with his-and-her pink Mohawk haircuts.  I knew it was a couple, because the girl had on a ankle-length Khaki skirt!

My friend—“Kay” and her father shepherded me onto the tube, and we rode it across London to Dagenham Heathway.  I don’t remember how long it took—as it was thirty-two years ago.  But “Kay’s” father carried my suitcase from the tube station to their house on Standfield Road.  During those two weeks with them I tasted true British life.  And perhaps it added to the desire to come and live in the United Kingdom.

Here I am, 32 years later, living about 20 miles from central London.  I feel more British every day.  First I had a settlement visa.  Then I obtained a British Driver’s license.  In 2004 the Home Office issued me a visa with indefinite leave to remain.  In 2007 I gave my allegiance to Queen Elizabeth and the United Kingdom, becoming a naturalised citizen of the United Kingdom.  To add the final touches to my becoming Anglicised, I was accepted into the Church of England in May 2009.

The local parish church I regularly attend is St. Mary the Virgin.  The building dates back to about 1140 AD.  Over the years the building has been added to, as well as renovated.  Yet it still maintains all the classic beauty of wooden pews, oak columns, a pipe organs and stained-glass windows. 

This past summer, on the Sunday of the annual Patronal festival, the children’s Sunday School created a beautiful piece of artwork.  It is made of black, heavy-weight card and coloured gel paper.  Each week it is displayed on the gates to the Kedermister Family pew, so the sun can pour through the gel sheets like a true stained glass window. 

Back in 1983 I had no idea how I would come to be a resident of this country, or when.  But it was the first step of my dreams coming true. 

I suppose the only thing I lack in being British is a British accent.  Oh well…my heart is British enough without the accent.

Serving Jesus, Author of our faith,

Lady Helene

Saturday night's dinner

                Saturday I was busy with a sewing project and other chores on my to-do list.  Since I’d not written it on my “Chores List”,  I’d forgotten to get something (meat)  out of the freezer for dinner on Saturday night.  I was half-way avoiding the kitchen, as I was feeling stymied about what to cook for dinner.  Mixed with the bafflement was guilt, as The Maverick had been up since 2.00 am to start his 4.45 am shift.  After finishing at the baggage hall at the airport, he had come home, eaten a quick lunch and then changed clothes to spend a few hours painting a couple of sheds for some friends.  This meant that I knew, he would be hungry as well as tired. 

            I apologised to The Maverick when he returned home from painting.  Meanwhile, I found the quickest thing to defrost in the freezer—bacon.  I checked the cupboard and found three staple ingredients I keep there; tinned chopped tomatoes, tinned sweet corn and thinned kidney beans. 

            The fridge held a two-pint container of yogurt that was closing in on its use-by date.  The fastest way to use a large amount of yogurt is to use it as a substitute of buttermilk and bake with it.  Cornbread—been thinking about it was a couple of weeks.  So, what goes with cornbread?  Bean soup…bacon and beans….chilli soup…okay…now I had an idea.

Cornbread was quickly stirred up and slid into a hot oven.  Now for the impromptu dish. 

I chopped up the bacon, letting it cook in my largest skillet.  Then I chopped up: purple/red onion, green onions (spring onions), four cloves of garlic, bell pepper.  When the bacon was browned, I chucked in the chopped ingredients and stirred it.  (The smell made my mouth water!)  When the onion was translucent, I stirred in the tomatoes, beans and corn.  This dish was feeling very Tex-Mex…so what to add?  I found some sweet paprika (smoked) and gave a big sprinkle. 

I let the “stew” simmer until the cornbread was done. 

I found myself thankful for:  a husband who will eat most things and is not demanding of a meat-and-three-veggies meal every night; standardised staples in my pantry that can be used in a multitude of ways; enough cooking experience to go from near panic to inspiration. 

I wish you could smell and taste it—but a photo will have to do.  I’d already cut the cornbread and put it on plates.  The bowls are ready for filling.  And like any normal, hungry person—I grab my camera for a photo! 

I wanted a photo for the blog.  

I hope your dinner is good!

Serving Jesus, Author of our faith

Lady Helene   

A change of colour, an unexpected result

Autumn has always been my favourite season.  The colours change into vibrant reds, oranges and yellows.  The temperatures cool and become crisp.  If there is a time of year that I am tempted out, it is September, October and November.  

Today I took Maisy out for a mid-morning constitutional.  The sky was still hazy, but not foggy.  I stopped in the middle of the park, letting Maisy sniff and explore.  An unexpected message hit my heart.  One tree across the field had begun to turn to gold, while the others remained green.  And those golden leaves appeared in the shape of a heart.  I felt that the Gracious Lord was telling me that while this errand of puppy-parenthood was interrupting my schedule, it was not wasted time.  That vision was a miracle for to me, as it would be impossible for a human being to have orchestrated the colour change, the shape of the limbs and the exact position of the trees in order to make that heart appear.  

So, I took my camera back out to the park about 14.00 hrs and hoped to find that exact position again, when the sun shine was strong, the hazy sky clear.  Below is the result.  

Following are other photos of colour changes.

 Of course, I never miss an opportunity to post a photo of Maisy!  

God bless you and keep you.

Serving Jesus, Author of our faith,