Sneak Peek at Jenny Bean #1

I put the last little stitches in Jenny Bean's Friendship Sampler last night. Oh, it is so pretty! My son Harrison said he loves the color palette, and my husband (as always) said: "Good work." Once a week I will reveal another quadrant of the sampler. This one you've already seen a little bit of, but next week, you'll get to see a little more.

I'm posting a threads list here, too, so you can check your stash and make sure you've got what you need. The Gentle Art will be selling thread packs at market to shops (NONE of these are limited edition colors.) I hope you enjoy this sampler -- it was really fun to stitch.

• Parchment
• Wood Trail
• Toasted Barley
• Moonlit Path
• Cherry Bark
• Espresso Bean
• Old Brick
• Forest Glade
• Carmel Corn
• Mustard Seed
• Melon Patch
• Dried Thyme
• Aged Pewter
• Maple Syrup
• Grape Arbor
• Endive
• Oatmeal
• Tomato
• Raven
• Piney Woods

A DMC conversion will be provided on the graph. The fabric is 40 ct. French Vanilla by R&R Reproductions. On 40 count, I used one thread, and you will only need one of each skein. If you're going to stitch on any other count, I recommend you get (2) of the Parchment (it's used to fill in all behind the verse.) I'm ordering an Eastside Mouldings Frame.

If you want to pre-order this from me, either just the graph, or the fibers/fabric and/or frame, just do so through my web site. Or have your shop make sure to stop by my booth at market to pick up graphs.

Delicious (and quick) dinner idea

OK, so Pasta Primavera means "Spring Pasta," (and it's the end of summer) but it's so good I could eat it year-round. I adapted a recipe I found online, and this is so good that when I made it last night, I didn't even think to take a picture for my blog. And then I ate it. And it was good. If you've got about a half an hour, a bunch of pantry "basics," and a hungry tummy, I highly recommend this recipe.

(2) Bell Peppers sliced into strips (red/yellow/orange are good, but green will also do)
(1) Medium Yellow Onion sliced into strips (or circles, whatever!)
(3) Carrots cut into coins or strips
(1 or 2) Baby Zucchini cut into coins or strips
(1) Yellow Squash cut into coins or strips
(6) White Mushrooms (or whatever you've got) sliced

(You could leave off or add veggies you've also got around.)

Put all of the above on a cookie sheet with a lip. Drizzle with about 1/2 cup olive oil and add good salt and pepper. Sprinkle on 1 Tablespoon Italian Seasoning (you'll find this in the spice aisle at the grocery store.) You kind of have to have the Italian Seasoning, I think.

Roast @ 425 for 10 minutes. Stir/flip veggies around to help them cook more evenly, then roast for 10 more minutes.

In the meantime, boil 1 box of your favorite pasta (bow ties are good and what I use. My favorite brand is Barilla.) It'll be trickier to eat if you use spaghetti or other long/skinny pastas. But by all means, use what you've got.

When veggies are done, combine them with the drained pasta and add about a half a cup grated Parmesan and/or Romano cheese. This is also good with cooked chicken breasts/strips, or you could also do shrimp. If you want to have delicious chicken breasts with it, here's what I do: take two good sized boneless/skinless chicken breasts and start them FIRST. Put them in a little non-stick pan with a drizzle of olive oil on medium-low heat. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, onion and garlic powder. Let these little guys cook while you're doing everything else. Flip them over to cook the other side. Make sure they're cooked all the way through. I do NOT cut them into strips before cooking, because it keeps the breasts very tender and juicy. If you cut them into strips, they will cook faster, but not be as delicious. Slice cooked breasts into strips and just toss them into your pasta/veggies and mix, or arrange them artfully on top.

This is a really healthy, quick, and delicious meal that will impress your friends or keep you full and happy. Plus, most of this is stuff you're going to have around anyway. And since you have just eaten your veggies, you can treat yourself to a slice of chocolate cake.

Jenny's working hard for market

Jenny B. is working hard for market, which is in just over six weeks. I've included a little picture of a corner of her "Jenny Bean's Friendship Sampler," which will kick off the new "Jenny Bean & Friends" group. A number of designers are joining me (er, Jenny) in designing samplers for the fall market season. I'm especially excited about everyone's participation and can't wait to see all of the samplers by Jenny's friends.

The designers participating are: Chessie & Me, Heartstring Samplery, Little House Needleworks, Lizzie Kate, The Primitive Needle, R&R Reproductions, Raise the Roof Designs (Sue!), SamSarah Design Studio, and Shepherd's Bush. Each designer will release her own pattern, under her own label. The fabrics, subject matter, fibers will all be different. I wanted everyone to just have fun designing without size, color or subject restrictions. Heartstring Samplery has already released Poppy Maye Russell's sampler (you can find it as the Kit of the Month on my web site.)

And another thing I'm excited about is my new picture of Miss Jenny Bean. I commissioned an artist from Australia to draw her, and what you see here is a small portion of the logo for this line of designs. It's always nice to put a face with a name.

People are already asking me (daily) what I'll have new at market. This much I know for sure: Jenny Bean's Friendship Sampler and the Spanish Mystery Sampler reproduction (these are both well under way). The rest is still to be created/designed. I basically design, stitch, design, stitch up until the last couple days before market. Since I do all of my printing in-house now, it's easy for me to print things quickly. I do have other ideas, but it's just a matter of executing them. Would you believe some of us designers are still assembling charts the night before market opens? (It's not just this one who pushes it until the last minute.) That's what you get with us creative types -- we're a little flakey!

This is Boo.And this is Ruby.

Both are cats we adopted from our local shelter in the last ten months. Boo was first. Boo was a wild thing. I mean, she was really, really nuts. She stole packages of floss and his them in a corner under the computer desk. She clawed at the carpet. She swiped at Kitty (our oldest cat). She would race around, leap onto an upholstered chair, dig her claws in, and roll her head and eyes around like a crazed lunatic. She jumped on everything, slept in my hair at night, made serious hunting noises at the birdies outside in the tree, and when the doorbell rang, she came running TOWARD the door like a dog (not away from it, like a cat.)

Then we found Ruby.

Ruby was little, and cuddly, and snuggly, and sweet. We brought her home, and Boo did NOT like that one bit. For three days, she hissed, and complained, and groaned, and ran away from that sweet little honey bun.

And on the fourth day, Boo relaxed. She started grooming Ruby and letting that fluffy little black ball snuggle up to her to sleep. When it was time to eat, Boo would stand back and let Ruby go first. And when Ruby tackled Boo to play, Boo kept her claws in like a good cat, and let Ruby win (most of the time.) She stopped stealing floss. She stopped swiping at Kitty. She sleeps at my feet (if she's not sleeping with Ruby). When I look at Boo now, there's nothing but peace behind those beautiful gold-green eyes.

It struck me one day that Boo's personality completely changed within a matter of a few days. We all loved the wild Boo, but we love the calm and almost Zen-like cat we now have. She is patient, and kind, and humble, and giving.

Anybody can make the decision to make changes in her life, and make them immediately. It was Shakespeare who said: "Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie." Every day is a new chance for change!

One of my favorite Christian prayers is from St. Francis of Assissi:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

where there is sadness; joy.

O divine Master

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love;

for it is in giving that we receive,

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Have a peaceful and lovely day.

A great idea for UFO hoarders...

I was talking to a long-time customer of mine yesterday (Cindy), and she mentioned a group of friends she belongs to with a great way of finishing off those dreaded UFO's (UnFinished Objects ... also known as that stack of projects you have in the closet, your dresser, smashed into a basket, you get the picture.)

This group gets together once a month to stitch (including quilting, needlework, whatever.) At the start of a year (and you could start any month), every participant puts $10.00 in the pot. And you have to select twelve projects that you have started, but not finished. You commit to finishing all of them, one per month, for a year. Each month, you either bring your finished UFO, or, you have to put another $5.00 in the pot.

At the end of the year, the group uses all of the money in the pot to go out to dinner. But wouldn't it be fun to do pedicures/manicures? Spa treatments? Donate the money to the group's favorite cause?

Cindy said it's a great excuse to get together and snack/eat good food. Plus, she said in the past few years, she has finished all but ONE of her UFO's for the year. And since UFO's apply to more than just cross stitchers (how about scrap bookers, knitters, quilters, rug hookers, needlepointers), you could have a mixed group of friends and still have fun.

Don't have a group of friends to get together with? Make this a challenge for yourself! Start with $10 at the beginning of the year, and pull out 12 UFO's. Give yourself a month to finish each one, and each month put $5.00 in the pot if you don't finish that month's project. At the end of the year, treat yourself to a massage, or, if you're a diligent stitcher, a burger and fries.

No Go on the Roadshow

I'm sure every one of the 8,000 ticket holders who shows up at the Antiques Roadshow imagines a moment in the spotlight on PBS. That someone brought some dusty little item that's been sitting on some shelf for who knows how long, and it turns out said object is worth twelve and a half thousand dollars.

But I thought I was a shoe-in. After getting up at 5:30 a.m. (on a SATURDAY) to make the 1 1/2 hour drive to Biloxi, I took my two tickets, my husband, a few of my reproductions, and about a dozen samplers from my collection (the oldest dating from 1770 -- six years BEFORE the United States declared its independence). The drive was uneventful (tropical storm Bonnie, they said, was already fizzling out -- although driving along the beach, we saw a news crew from CNN filming on the beach.)

The convention center was already abuzz with activity at that early hour. We passed a man on a horse. And then another walking a horse, and then we saw a few signs pointing the way to "Cowboy Parking." (There were all kinds of horses in an enclosed area, as well as a bull with the LARGEST horns Steve and I had ever seen.) We parked, filled our arms with samplers, and trekked in.

Now, I had warned Steve that it could be a long day. The tickets and the web site advised lines could be very long, to wear comfortable shoes, and if you didn't really want to stand for long periods of time, to bring a folding chair. We were informed there would be a concession stand for food and drinks.

We arrived at twenty after eight (the event started at eight), and people were already leaving the building, many with framed prints from the early 1900's. Steve and I joked that it would be funny to just buy something at Target, take it as an "antique," but leave the UPC code right on the bottom. Or how about that old pair of underwear?

Excitement built as we were greeted by legions of volunteers in smoky blue polo shirts. "Welcome!" "Follow the carpets." "Turn left when you see the tables." Very well organized, I thought. We showed our tickets to one person, who directed us to a line at the far end of a large convention room. We again showed our tickets to another volunteer who pointed us towards a table with another friendly volunteer. "What have you got?" she asked. I told her I had brought my collection of antique samplers. "Is that it?" she said. "You definitely want Folk Art." She handed me four tickets (You probably won't need all four, she said, but what the heck. Steve and I could have brought up to two items each, but after digging through boxes and drawers, Steve couldn't find anything he felt was worthy, and I "just" had about a dozen wonderful antique samplers, which counted as "one" item -- a collection.)

Next, the entrance to the room where the appraisals and filming was going on. Professionally-printed hanging dividers with silhouettes of various kinds of antiques encircled what we knew was "it" -- the show! Another barricade of volunteers. Several waved at us, and we took our things over to a friendly woman (same blue shirt), who led us through the dividers and into the room, which was full of people, antiques, tables of experts, cameras, lights, scaffolding....

There were only two people ahead of us in the Folk Art line. The couple ahead of us had a baby carriage with some kind of old painted iron baby statue. Someone else had a tobacco cutter that was missing its blade. The Folk Art experts smiled as we came forward. The one on the left was just finishing up with another ticket holder, so the one on the right asked us to bring up what we had.

After introducing my pile of samplers (with just a hand gesture toward the pile), the volunteer appraiser asked me how long I had been collecting. "A year a half, two years?" I said. "Mm-hm," he said. "They almost look English, because the fabric is very fine," he said. "Oh, most of them are English," I said, "but I have one that's French, and this one here that might be English, or French, but the alphabet is Spanish, see?" (I was referring to my Spanish Mystery Sampler that is being stitched by Kathy, my friend and model stitcher, as I type.)

I launched into what I thought was an articulate little speech about how I was a needleworker, and a collector, and a designer and reproducer of antique samplers. "There aren't very many of us doing this anymore," I said. "Look at this pair of samplers." (here I pulled two from the pile -- one, the Jane Philpott sampler, the other, her sister's). "These were done by two sisters in 1837. And here is my reproduction of this sampler. Can you believe there are 40,000 cross stitches in this? And each stitch is actually two stitches -- two parts of an X -- so that's 80,000 total stitches."

At this point, the appraisers eyes kind of glazed over. The other one at the table, the epitome of an antiques collector (looking something like an antique himself) leaned over adjusting his thick glasses. "Well, that looks like it was done by HAND?!" (sigh) I knew I was sunk.

"See," my appraiser said. "This isn't really the type of thing that they're looking for on the show. You're an expert." (He called me an "expert!") "What they want is someone who doesn't know what they have. But this is very interesting. The Antiques Roadshow has a Facebook page, and you should post this information there. I think it would be very educational for people."

"But some of these samplers I hardly paid anything for. I got one for $25.00." I ruffled throught the pile hoping to tempt him with my bargain-hunting skills. "This one was $140." ("That was a good deal," he admitted.) "This one was $75." I pointed to the Philpott's. "Those, of course, I paid a lot more for." ("Of course," he said.)

"Thank you so much for bringing these in," he said, "You can go to your next table." "This is all we brought," I said. "Don't you want to look at all of them?" "I learned a lot just by talking to you," he said. "This was all very interesting."

I felt deflated. Steve was still standing behind me quietly holding several large framed samplers. I looked at the appraiser on the left, the one in the thick glasses, who touched the pile and a sampler I haven't shown you guys yet -- I'll put a picture up next week. It's got a striking red house, fanciful birds, and a U-shaped border around a beautiful verse. "This is lovely," he said. I agreed with him. They were all lovely.

"Don't we get an appraisal?" I finally asked. At least he could tell me I had a small fortune on my hands. The appraiser sat back a little, looking stymied. "If you bought these all in the last couple of years, you probably paid fair market value." (What, was he crazy? Had he forgotten that I told him I paid $25.00 for one of them?) So, basically, after being promised an appraisal, I didn't get one. We thanked him for his time (after all, he was a volunteer), and glanced around the room. There were a lot of areas we weren't supposed to walk into (they were filming). And we didn't have tickets to stand in other lines. We ran into Steve's department chair and his wife. They had brought a walnut side table that they had been told was worth $1,200. Then we left. It was 9:20.

We commiserated with a bearded man on the walk out. He was carrying a little table. "How old does something have to BE to get on the show!?" I asked Steve. The man said furniture has to be at least 100 years old to be considered an antique. "I have something from 1770," I said. "What did they tell you?" he asked. "They called me an expert and told me they were looking for people who didn't know anything." "Really?" he said. "They want people who are stupid? I can pretend to be stupid all day long," he said. We laughed and chatted on the way out to the far end of the parking lot. We hadn't needed cash for concessions, a folding chair for sitting, or even comfortable shoes.

Steve and I decided as long as we were in Biloxi we'd head over to Gulfport (just up the road a few miles) and go to the Prime Outlets shopping mall for a little retail therapy. Graham needed school uniform clothes but doesn't like clothes shopping (and I get sick of hearing, "I'M BORED!" every three minutes). We arrived a little before the stores opened and had a muffin each at "Bean & Leaf." Steve's was blueberry. Mine, chocolate (of course.) We listened to piped in music by Frankie Valli and complained about how we totally got ripped off. Steve said we should have just butted in over at the textiles table. What, were they crazy? How often does someone show up with that many samplers? They missed a golden opportunity. Mm, this muffin is good. What shops do you want to go to? All of them? Great. (I should note here that Steve likes shopping more than most women I know.)

We shopped for five hours -- getting lots of great bargains. Soft cotton t-hirts for $2.00. Putty-colored Tommy Hilfigger pants for $6.00. A finely-woven aubergine-colored men's sweater for $6.50. Hipster shirts at the Banana Republic for $10.00. Maybe if we hang onto these bargains for 50 years, we can take them to the Antiques Roadshow and see if they're worth anything.

We had a great time, trudging between chilly air-conditioned shops and the oppressive and sweltering heat of the outdoors (also known as the punch-you-in-the-face weather of July in southern Mississippi). By the end, we could have used concessions, and a folding chair, and more comfortable shoes. We took the last load of bags to the car, then drove five or six minutes to a Japanese restaurant where we had edamame (steamed and salted soy beans still in their pods), sushi, miso soup, and a couple of Cokes, which Steve said were "a gift from heaven." We decided our loss that morning was really the show's loss -- they didn't know what they had.

And the next time they're back in town, I'll be back at the Roadshow with my samplers (hopefully two or three times as many), with a blank expression on my face. "I found these in a dumpster behind the Burger King," I'd say. "They look almost like paintings. Do you think they're WORTH anything?'

We arrived home and unloaded the samplers and bag after bag of clothes. The kids had made a freezer pizza. Graham was watching "Deadliest Warrior," and Harrison was cruising the Internet. I unpacked the bags of clothes and made neatly-folded stacks, so we could look at everything. Harrison commented that it felt like Christmas. And even after a day of driving, disappointments, sore feet, and humidity you wouldn't believe, we were still, after all, blessed in so many ways. So joking around with our kids, laughing at the cats who had to lay on just about every shirt and pair of pants, it really did feel like Christmas.

(P.S. -- no pictures, sorry! Once you get past a certain point, you are not allowed to take pictures or have your cell phone on.)

(P.P.S. -- highlight of the Roadshow was standing about six feet from Leslie Keno -- an antiques furniture juggernaut who looks more like an aging rocker than a lover of dusty and grimy old benches. I've read the book he wrote with his twin Leigh two times, and highly recommend it. Each chapter is like a treasure hunt, and you don't have to know anything about antiques to enjoy it. It's called "Hidden Treasures: Searching for Masterpieces of American Furniture." Looks like amazon.com has them used for about $3.00, or if you use paperbackswap.com -- which I also highly recommend -- you could get a copy for free! As of this writing, it is available for order there.)

Imperfection is PERFECT!

I'm in the middle of charting my Spanish Mystery Sampler...a few more hours to go, and then off to the model stitcher (my good friend Kathy, who is itching to get started.) The colors are lovely -- beiges/browns, a plum, a couple of reds, a pale frosty blue. Bands alternate between bands that repeat a wave of flowers or Quaker-y shapes and rows of alphabets scripty and plain. I'm a little jealous that I won't get to stitch this one, and will be anxious to get it back. These old samplers really come alive when they're re-stitched.

One of the things I love about reproducing the old samplers is the mistakes! I am the first to admit that I make (and leave in) mistakes while I stitch. I hate ripping out, and will only rip if it is going to make a huge difference in the final project. What makes a reproduction look truly authentic is those little bits that are off, just a little bit...a stitch here, a color substitution there. When designers create mirror-image/perfectly symmetrical samplers, they are lovely, but I think they end up looking a little cold. (Plus, it's not much fun to stitch half of a sampler twice.) You might notice the birds above from my "Two Angry Birds" sampler. They are *almost* perfect in their symmetry, but the bird on the left has about ten stitches of black on his wing where the stitcher may have run out of purple.

Looking at an old sampler, you don't necessarily *see* the mistakes right away. But if you reproduce a sampler, you'll come across them. I know mistakes bother some people, and there are stitchers who correct mistakes in reproductions as they go. But I think that slightly not-quite-rightness adds to the beauty of a sampler. Someone's hands added every little square, and out of 20,000 stitches, that someone was bound to get a few wrong (especially when that someone was a 9-year-old.)

There is a certain texture and loveliness to imperfection. The Mona Lisa doesn't have eyebrows, and the Venus de Milo doesn't even have ARMS for crying out loud, and they are beautiful works of art. People pay all kinds of crazy money for shabby-chic reproductions in hardwood flooring, furniture and textiles. Chipped paint is in (and can be applied NEW). A little tarnish on the silver adds depth. Dog-eared pages indicate a much-loved book.

And it was Marilyn Monroe who said, "Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring." Marilyn, of course, had a mole on her cheek. *MWAH* -- perfecto!