The Quilt Files, Episode 20

Technically, this project shouldn't really fall under "quilting," because no actual quilting took place ... but it was pieced together, and I think patchwork falls under the general heading of quilting-type crafts.

Anyway, there was a wedding in the family this month; and I know, usually I make quilts for family weddings. But this wedding was for a cousin on my mom's side of the family, and my maternal grandmother had already made a quilt for my Cuz. (And actually, she finished it ten years before the wedding, he just chose not to receive it until he got married.) And when my Grandma has made a quilt, I really can't compete:

Isn't that gorgeous? Not just the applique, which is wonderful (and looks like it's that really hard, fold-under-the-edges type), but all the quilting, which is a feature in itself on these quilts with the light-colored tops. So there wasn't any point in going whole-hog on the quilting front. I didn't have a ton of time, anyway.

Instead, I went for the accessories. I checked out their wedding registry and saw they had chosen two colors for their bedroom: sage and a kind of dutch blue. I bought the sage sheets and took them to the fabric store, where I found a really nice paisley I thought would suit both those colors. Then I found a few more coordinating fabrics, which was harder than you might think; while there were many fabrics using sage with shades of teal (it's a nicer combo than it sounds), there weren't many that worked with sage and blue. But I found a few of near-solids and a pattern that kept to the color scheme, and a little bit of piecing combined with some pillow forms resulted in this:

You can never have enough pillows on your bed, right? I was rather pleased with these, because I made a nice pattern out of a limited number of fabrics, and the neck bolster I made without a pattern. I just measured the size and managed to cut out the right size of circles to get the perfect fit. Now maybe I should make some of those bolsters for my own use....

Janespotting: Mrs. Rushworth by Victor Gordon

I nosed around for information about the author of this week's featured Austen continuation, Victor Gordon, but I couldn't find much at all. He was published in Britain and had a few books on food published. (I wouldn't advise googling his 1989 title, Prawnography, looking for more information.) In 1989 he also published the novel Mrs. Rushworth, a continuation of Mansfield Park. From the title, it's obvious he's exploring the story of Fanny's cousin Maria, who notoriously married for money and then ran away with Henry Crawford, who deserted her.

The novel opens almost immediately after the end of MP, with Maria and her devoted Aunt Norris reading the announcement of Fanny and Edmund's marriage. The two have been traveling nonstop, trying to avoid Maria's notoriety, and finally decide to settle in Leamington Spa for a while. They seem to find their niche, until they discover the existence of a novel called Mansfield Park at their local library. Mrs. Norris tries to buy all the copies, but some get out, and when a local baron's son tries to take advantage of Maria, she decides that the only way to escape her reputation is to travel to America. She heads to Liverpool to book passage, and along the way aids a woman of shadowy background give birth. The experience moves her strangely, and gives her the courage to stand up to Mrs. Norris when she tries to derail the American trip, and then Maria's budding romance with Charles Cheviot, a gentleman of hidden musical and theatrical talents. When Mrs. Norris tries to prevent them traveling on the same ship to America, Maria gives her the slip and she and Charles end up getting married.

After a happy and successful seven years in America, during which Maria bears two children, the family returns to England, settling in Liverpool, where Charles has a nominal job that allows him to spent time writing music. Maria encourages him in his efforts to write an opera, and they become respectable members of the city establishment, even after Maria's father dies and the annual support he had provided her is withdrawn. (This is shown in a very clever scene that echoes the beginning of Sense and Sensibility.) They befriend Maria's cousin (and Fanny's brother) William Price; they forgive him for being the venue through which Jane Austen learned Maria's story (he mentioned it to Austen's brother, also a naval officer) and host a ball in his honor. They also spend a lot of money mounting a production of Charles's opera, which is marred by public misbehavior but ends with Charles being offered a chance to join an opera company in London as an apprentice. Maria encourages him to take the position, but the pay is too low to support the family. Instead he devotes time to his real job, which has him managing the affairs of a widow who has inherited a mill.

The job takes him away from Maria, who typically lets her imagination run away with her regarding Charles and the widow. When William Price visits after losing an eye fighting for his country, she doesn't prevent a session of "cousinly comfort" bestowing a "hero's reward" in her bed. When this single night ends in a pregnancy, Maria can't prevent Charles from discovering the truth, and although she declares her steadfast love, he finds it hard to forgive her. While there was a possibility for reconciliation, she storms off in a melodramatic huff and becomes an actress. By the time she tries to come back, Charles has already started divorce proceedings, and eventually ends up with the mill widow, who by chance is the young woman whom Maria aided in giving birth all those years ago. Maria's child is adopted by Tom and Susan (Susan Price having married Tom Bertram in this novel as well), and Maria herself returns to America to become an actress.

Maria was one of the more unpleasant characters in Austen's original novel, and here in this novel she is just as flawed. However, we are given more of her interior life and at times she becomes a somewhat sympathetic character. Mrs. Rushworth gives us an almost picaresque journey which is always interesting to read. She comes close to redeeming her flaws, but not quite, and the way the author weaves in Austen and all her novels was very entertaining. So while the book wasn't very Austenish in tone (too much naughtiness going on), it made very good (and fairly consistent) use of her characters and told an entertaining tale. All in all, it was a much better read than I would have expected from someone better known for writing about food.

Photo of the Week--5/10/10

During our Baltic trip in 2001, we had a stop in St. Petersburg, Russia. I looked through all my photos of our visit, and couldn't find a single pigeon. Were they regulated by the Russian government, or were we keeping Boy on a leash and avoiding trouble? Either way, we chased no pigeons. I thought this photo was appropriate, because you can see Boy is either fed up with visiting another stupid castle, or else he is fed up with being in another stupid photo. Never mind that it's the beautiful Catherine Palace!

Wordless definitions: greedy

I've mentioned before that orchids really like the greenhouse window TSU installed in my kitchen, and rewarded me with loads and loads of blossoms this spring. My three phaelenopses are in full bloom right now, one with about two dozen flowers, and one of my stubborn cattleyas even bloomed. So although I wasn't lacking blooms when I attended a local orchid show, I wasn't lacking extra space in my window, either. I spent a few minutes looking at the displays, but I was more interested in the sales room. I really had trouble choosing. There was this lovely phaelenopsis, white with just a blush of pink in the center ... and phaelenopsis are almost idiot-proof, so it would be a good investment. But then there was this gorgeous white cattleya with raspberry stripes ... and it had a gorgeous scent! But then the phaelenopsis was on sale! But the cattleya was so pretty! You can see my final decision, and why it suits our wordless definition:

When it comes to orchids, I can't help being greedy.

The Quilt Files, Episode 19

So I'd gotten into the pattern of making a baby quilt whenever someone was expecting, and I planned to revisit one of my favorite patterns when a cousin announced she was expecting baby #2. As I was planning the quilt, I began to think about baby #1, who was born before I started quilting. Her sibling was getting a quilt; her twin cousins already had quilts; why should she be denied a quilt just because she was born first?

She was five or six at the time, so I figured I could make a nice lap quilt, in pretty girl colors, from some of the fabric in my stash. (I might have bought a couple of fat quarters, but I think I mostly used stash fabrics.) As a bonus, I would put something pretty and girly on it ... and you don't get much more girly than fairies! I found some images in Microsoft ClipArt, blew them up big, and then used them to create appliques, which I basted on to the base and then attached with a satin stitch around the edges. I finished by quilting concentrically around the fairies, using the center one for my main circle and putting smaller circles around the corner fairies. I think it turned out nicely. The little girl in me certainly thought it was pretty pretty pretty!

Sometimes I have just as much fun putting together the back of a quilt. I had found this gorgeous pink and purple batik that looked almost like it had been tie-dyed. I used it for the borders and one set of squares of the top, and had this lovely big piece for the center of the back. I took the remainders of the other seven fabrics and stripped them together. It's pretty, too, and in this view you can get a better idea of how the circular quilting turned out.

I'm particularly fond of this piece; not just because I love the colors (although they are my favorites), but because I designed the whole thing myself and managed to create recognizable fairies even though I can't draw worth crap.

Janespotting: Ladysmead by Jane Gillespie

Like Joan Aiken, British writer Jane Gillespie wrote several Austen sequels, including ones to Northanger Abbey and Sense and Sensibility. Published in 1982, Ladysmead is her earliest effort at attempting Austen; like the other sequels, she takes one or two of the more colorful (ie, naughty) characters and drops them into a completely new situation. In this case, it is the family of Reverend Thomas Lockley, a widower who has managed to marry off five of his seven daughters. With four younger sisters already wed, the second daughter, Sophia, "felt the cage of spinsterhood beginning to enclose her," at the decrepit age of 23. She has resigned herself to managing her father's household and keeping an eye on her youngest sister, Lucinda. This proves a challenge, as the family is continually economizing, and Lucinda is depressed: her best friend has just moved away and she has few other distractions, living in the remote countryside of Lancashire.

Luckily for the story, the friends' cottage at Ladysmead is let to another set of tenants, an older widow and her niece: of course, it is Mrs. Norris and Maria Rushworth (here going by Rushton) from MP. Although she knows nothing of the scandal that led the two to leave London, Sophia is somewhat unsettled by her new neighbors: Mrs. Norris is interfering, while Maria Rushton is aloof and snobby. She finds it convenient to befriend Lucinda, however, bossing her around and encouraging her to develop a contentious attitude. She encourages her young friend to flirt with one of her father's students, even though she has no real liking for the boy. This concerns Sophia as well as her father's rector, Charles Williams. Charles has a secret devotion to Sophia, but his offers to assist her only make her angry.

When the owner of Ladysmead and the neighboring mansion passes away, his heir Mr. Dalby comes to the area to decide what to do with the property. His manners are pleasing and he makes Sophia laugh, but Mrs. Rushton decides he should be the target of Lucinda instead. Several meetings and excursions are alternately planned, thwarted, and executed, with no one satisfied with the outcome. When Mr. Dalby invites a friend to the area and he turns out to know Mrs. Rushworth's sordid history, it leads to another shock: not only does Dalby elope with Mrs. Rushton/Rushworth, but they leave the poor Mrs. Norris behind. The events disturb poor Lucinda so much that she runs away from home, seeking solace from her new friend's betrayal by visiting her old friend.

Charles follows her and discovers her, of course (shades of Mr. Darcy finding Lydia in P&P). While he is gone Rev. Lockley declare he intends to marry Mrs. Norris, giving her a home and thus freeing poor Sophia to go out into society. This shocks Sophia so much she shows her disappointment to Charles, who reveals his own feelings and offers to marry her so she can escape. When Sophia realizes his proposal is based on love and not pity, she discovers her own heart is glad for his devotion despite her mistreatment of him. She accepts him, Dalby returns to take Mrs. Norris back to Mrs. Rushworth, and all ends happily with Sophia and Charles ensconced at Ladysmead.

As I mentioned, this novel follows a similar pattern to Gillespie's other Austen sequels: an upright, steadfast, suffering heroine; one or two flawed but entertaining minor characters from Austen's original; and a virtuous hero who demonstrates his worthiness of the heroine. Is it formula? Pretty close, but since Gillespie's style is entertaining and her borrowed characters are true to the original, I don't consider that a problem—especially when the novel is less than 200 pages, making for a light, quick read. This one was fun if somewhat forgettable.

Photo of the Week--5/3/10

Ignore the vaguely (!) suggestive statue* and look in the shadows. There you will find the scourge of pigeondom, Boy, working his magic against the fat and lazy pigeons of Helsinki. Okay, maybe Helsinki pigeons aren't that fat or lazy, as they probably work hard to acquire fat and then burn it off during the long, dark Finnish winters. But this was summer, and we had to make sure that any rest breaks those pigeons were taking didn't become a habit.

*It's the Three Smiths statue, and although the three smiths are naked, they are wielding hammers against that anvil. I just chose an unfortunate angle for this photograph.