[Don’t forget: During the coronavirus shutdown, the Wool Blanket Master Classis open for enrollment. It’s a work-at-your-own-pace video course with clear instructions and access to me for questions and feedback. Check it out here. Questions about it? Write me a note here.]
Amid many rainy days, we have had some spring beauties: clear, warm and sunny. To my mind, there’s no better place to work with wool than in lucid sunlight, where color and texture come alive together.
A recent day like that beckoned me to cut the sweaters for a custom-order blanket I’ve been sketching out. The late-afternoon slant of the sun set such a tranquil mood that I wanted to share some photos.
This blanket was requested by a friend and colleague I’ve worked alongside for over 20 years. The blanket will be a gift from Sara and her sisters to their father for his June birthday. In it will be three handknit sweaters made with care by his mother, Sara’s grandmother, many years ago.
A record of my work environs is incomplete without a quick pic of my “foldable rubbish bin” below, tucked in by the legs of the antique table which, when it’s not being called upon as a dining room table, holds my cutting mat.
I’m delighted that both my cutting space and my sewing space, two separate areas of our home, face west, into the sunset (and toward my the land of my roots!). Each spot coaxes me to linger and do just a little bit more in a golden wash of afternoon sun.
Two months and so much naivete ago, I wrote about having a “luscious lull” near the end of winter in which to tackle projects. What in the world??
I knew nothing of what was about to hit, and my mind is now officially blown. Wiser and more thoughtful voices can inform the internet about the complexities of our current situation. But let me say this:
In the silver lining of this coronavirus cloud, we makers suddenly find ourselves at home with precious time on our hands.
This time, the course will run completely at one’s own pace rather than with a cohort of students. All videos and PDFs will be accessible immediately upon purchase and, as always, participants will have access to me for questions, trouble-spots, etc.
Have you been collecting beautiful sweaters for a long while and want to finally commit to making a blanket from them? Learn how in the Felted Wool Blanket Master Class! Go here to learn what’s offered and to read what several past students have said about it.
I’ve set up a new Facebook group for all who enroll in the course and wish to interact with others about blankets. This is one of the best places to contact me (I check in regularly) although it’s purely discretionary and you don’t need to be a Facebook user to take the course. You are always welcome to email me directly as well! (For any of you who have taken the course and were part of a Facebook page for just your session of the class, I’ll invite you to the new page. Be on the lookout for an invitation.)
———
You may or may not know, but I’m a healthcare worker: an occupational therapist in a neuro outpatient clinic. I am still going in to work–and feel fortunate to be able to do that, in spite of the risks. I don’t feel like a genuine front-line worker, as I watch nurses, physicians and assistants conducting tests and treating infected patients. I tip my hat to all of them. Thank you, all who are truly right up front, fully covered in PPE (personal protective equipment) and battling an unseen infiltrator!
*Please don’t interpret this title as flippancy in the face of a disruptive and deadly virus. I do take it very seriously.
Living in the Midwest, this time of year always feels to me like a big gift: The cold, the winter, the lure of the indoors provides a luscious lull for doing projects. (The Luscious Lull! I may coin that.)
In previous winters/early springs, in addition to working on many, many blankets, I also…
learned to make a flat pattern for myself and designed and made a skirt.
This year, a welcome burst of energy has alighted upon me and I’ve tackled household painting projects—trim, doors, bathrooms. It’s a task I actually love to do. I get to put on old clothes, turn on some funky music, and take my time at making something old into something new.
But you know what? I’m still dreaming about sewing.
What dreams, you ask? Well, first, I have two custom blanket projects I’m ruminating upon. I’m pretty sure I’ve talked before about how I enjoy this stage: looking at the sweaters, mixing and matching them, mulling over stories the client has told me. So that’s one sewing thing I’m dreaming about.
Second, for my birthday (it’s this month and it’s a milestone one), I asked for a fitting system for adjusting, designing, and sewing clothing. I caught the bug last year with Brooks Ann Camper’s Skirt Skills course and want to learn more. We’ll see what dream-worthy sewing projects I can fit into this season along with the household painting.
But all of that to say—
♥ THIS SEASON MIGHT BE YOUR Luscious Lull TOO ♥
And if in your lull you are working with wool sweaters, you might be wondering about storage.
First of all, you need to know: I will never win an award for being either terribly organized or fastidious. The ranking motivators for my storage choices are:
functionalityand efficiency with an margin for laziness.
Thus, my outlook on wool storage may not be the one with which you’d align yourself. There are certainly other great resources and opinions online. (Google “felted wool storage.”) However, if you’d like to know what my own experience has taught me, keep reading.
Start with clean wool. Wash and felt your sweaters before storing. Any food or other organic residue left behind on a pre-worn sweater will invite pest damage or stains. (For neat stacking in storage areas, I also cut my sweaters apart prior to felting.)
Allow wool access to air. I don’t store my wool in anything air-tight. There are opposing views about this online. Some believe air-tight plastic is the best protection; others have found moisture inside of plastic bags with their wool. I choose to provide some air. A lidded plastic bin likely still allows the wool to “breathe” as long as the bin isn’t air-tight. But even in bins, I recommend nestling a paper-wrapped bar of lovely-scented soap inside with the wool. I don’t like how felted sweaters smell if they are closed up.
Keep wool away from insects and critters. A garage or a dark, quiet basement may allow unwanted creatures to get to your wool. Store the felted sweaters in a clean area where there is some human activity.
Don’t expose wool to direct sunlight. Over time, the whites/creams will yellow and the bright colors will slowly fade. I learned this from experience.
Don’t use mothballs for storage. At least, I don’t recommend it. First of all, there’s their toxicity. Second, it can be very difficult to get rid of their odor.
<<<<<< • >>>>>>
How I apply the 5 recommendations in my own studio:
Because I love to have both easy access to and inspiration from the wools I’m working with, I store most of my working sweaters where I can see them. My studio is a loft space in our home: a large open area above our living/dining room. I have a west-facing window and, nearby, shelving that was once an enclosed closet. Years ago, prompted by a daughter headed toward interior design school, we removed the closet doors and had lovely wood shelves built and installed by a friend. It’s been occupied by wool ever since. The shelves are inset and protected from the sun, and the wool has done very well here.
This shelving alone is not enough space for all the sweaters I have. Let me just say, I have a very patient spouse who tolerates The Green Sheep business spilling over into other storage areas, all in neat stacks and easily accessible to me.
I store most finished product in clean, fresh cardboard boxes also in the loft area, where the wool can breathe, be kept clean, and be protected from sunlight. I include a bar of soap in each of these (just as I recommended above with plastic bins).
I store scraps worth keeping in plastic bins, stacked without lids in an unused closet, also where the wool can breathe, be kept clean and protected from sunlight. I occasionally organize the scraps into neat piles according to color shade within their bins, but it all quickly becomes disorderly again when I go searching for the perfect match for a project.
Pretty much, that’s it! That’s the system I’ve decided upon through my years of working with wool. It has worked very well for me and my situation.
Did I forget anything?
Do you have any questions?
Especially, how do you guys store your wool and what have you learned through trial and error?
Admittedly, I’ve created a much quieter year online for myself. But I’m so happy to still be here, peacefully plodding away (haha! it’s true!) at making and then recording the things that come about.
My large and final project for this year was a custom order of three blankets. This came about through wonderful Marilynn, who first contacted me over a year ago about “Blessed are the Poor in Spirit.” That blanket, an all-time favorite of mine because of its heartfelt subject matter, is now with Marilynn in her home in Arizona. Yea!
At that same time, she told me about her husband’s passing two years prior, the sweaters that he had loved, and her idea to have some legacy blankets made for her and her two sons.
I cautioned her that I had several other custom order conversations underway that involved nearly a half-dozen blankets … and Marilynn was content to be patient. Timing worked out well, and these lovelies were finally shipped off to her mid-November.
Marilynn and her husband Mike raised their family both in the US and abroad as Mike, a civil engineer, shepherded major public work projects to completion. He loved his profession and he loved creating and building. But above all, he loved his family and he loved humor.
My assignment: to take more than 2 dozen sweaters and combine them pleasingly for 3 unique blankets. I needed to make sure that sweaters that were particularly significant to each family member made it into their blanket.
With many of the sweaters, I included pieces of them in all three blankets, while working to maintain the integrity of each blanket’s vibe and color scheme. This project took a ton of thinking + trial and error!!
By the way, most of the sweaters were Mike’s, a few were Marilynn’s, and one was Dan’s from childhood.
Since Dan as the older son had the opportunity to live overseas as a child and still travels frequently, I dove right in for a blanket that portrays something of our planet’s variety. The patchwork style hints at a view from a plane window. The patterned cream stripes even remind me of two latitude lines on a world map: the Tropic of Cancer and the Tropic of Capricorn.
Most specially, the sky blue pieces in here come from Dan’s own tiny sweater from Denmark. In the two photos below, Dan’s and his parents’ Scandinavian sweaters are lined up, left to right: Dan’s is the light blue, his dad’s has the brown patterns, and next is a sleeve from Marilynn’s blue and white one.
Mike had three half-zip sweaters by Orvis, two with large, wildly colorful brand labels inside the sweaters’ necklines. At first glance I thought they were mosquitoes (!) but then realized they’re fishing flies. So much better! I wouldn’t do well with a mosquito inside my shirt.
Each blanket got to have the neckline (if available) and the zipper from one of the Orvis sweaters. I assembled a pocket behind each zipper for a secret storage spot.
Scroll back up to the VERY FIRST photo at the top of this blog post. You see the close-up one in the shade? There my camera best captured what this blanket looks like in person. It is soft and muted, with much less contrast than appears in the stepped-back pics.
Younger son Adam spent his growing-up years mostly in Arizona, so for him I put together the strong, warm colors of the desert, deep and rich. Mike’s sweaters provided great raw material for this.
The V-necks with contrasting color insets remind me of the mountains that rise straight out of the flatland all over the American southwest where Adam continues to live with his family and near Marilynn.
And you know I love that desert!! I’ve written more about that here (a luscious desert landscape), here (its heat and color), and here (visiting grandparents).
In the midst of Adam’s robust solid horizontal lines I laid out two blocks of one of his mom’s sweaters (the soft blue and white) and chunks of his dad’s brown-and-white patterned sweater (the same that creates the “latitude lines” through Dan’s blanket). I felt that setting them in relief like this quietly marked his parents’ presence in the whole of his life.
Adam’s blanket gets the fantastic purple Orvis label inside the forest-green sweater along with its leather zipper and pocket.
Marilynn sent me two very special sweaters of her own in this collection, both blue and white. She received one from her father, who bought it in Copenhagen in 1964. I believe the other is from Denmark as well, and was bought with Mike. These two sweaters along with a third, a cream cable of Mike’s from Greece, formed the centerpiece of this blanket.
Marilynn is actively engaged with family, community, and travel but says she likes to stay behind the scenes, looking for ways she can help others. She’s been an EMT, worked for the Arizona Republic newspaper, and has taught in junior high. She simply likes people.
After I learned that Marilynn has spent time volunteering at a Phoenix art museum as a docent, I decided to preserve the three main sweaters’ neckline tags on small museum-label “plaques” underneath each corresponding sweater, in a sense representing Marilynn’s dad, Mike, and Marilynn herself.
Now Marilynn reports she is learning bridge—”To get ready for the retirement home!” she says. Hmmm. I can’t tell if this very busy woman is joking or not.
Marilynn’s blanket got the blue Orvis sweater (no fishing fly label though!) and its beautiful leather zipper. In the pic below you can peek through to the sweater that lines the back of the pocket. These were just plain fun to construct.
Marilynn has also sewn and quilted for most of her life, which is likely why she saved all Mike’s sweaters in the first place: to make something out of them, right?? I love the way she thinks :)
Marilyn, Dan and Adam—may these blankets allow you to bask in the warmth, memories, and pleasure of your wonderful family. In them, I’ve aspired to convey the joy and fullness of life Marilynn shared as she talked about your family. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of this project!
It’s packing and shipping time forOperation Christmas Child shoeboxes! I really wish I had brought this up earlier, just in case anyone else’s wheels needed greasing to get rolling.
I say that because my wheels needed exactly that.
I had not *planned* on sewing a blanket for a shoebox this year. But a friend innocently nudged me in a different direction when, during an announcement at church about an Operation Christmas Child packing party, she tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, “Are you making a blanket?” I whispered back, “Not this year…” but then couldn’t stop thinking about another sweet blanket.
The thing is, it is SO MUCH FUN to give these little gifts. (I first made a shoebox blanket, “The Christmas Rainbow,” in 2016. In 2017 I made another, “Wacky Pockets,” simultaneously offering to folks on my email list a free course in how to make one if they’d commit to packing a shoebox too. In 2018 I sent a shoebox but no blanket.)
So two Sundays ago I went home from church considering how I could simplify the process in order to get a child-size blanket put together quickly. I decided to:
Use leftover strips, already cut (using only thin wools so the blanket can fit in a shoebox)
Use leftover binding from another project
Keep the pattern simple
It was a very good plan. Until I sabotaged swiftness by messing around with too many color drafts before finally settling on a likeable combo. But it’s done! And I had a lot of fun.
I chose the 5-9-year-old girl category. As I sewed, I thought about how important it can be to a girl to have a friend. And not just any friend, but a kind and understanding one. The blanket itself reminds me of those half-heart necklaces that fit together like a puzzle: its two halves quietly reflect each other, each with their pink-and-purple “pop” (the pocket, the “V” of a sweater), and the halves are clearly delineated by the skinny strip of pink stripe between them.
When shopping for additional shoebox items, I found these two little dolls. They are 1) just right for the size of the box, 2) just right for the colorful blanket, and 3) just right for a friendship. Here they are, testing what will be their cushy accommodations for the next several weeks until they arrive at their destination.*
Each time I pack a shoebox, I think of two particular children. They are actually adults now; a family we know adopted them from an orphanage in Russia many years ago. Four years before their adoption, while living in that orphanage, Marina and her older brother received Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes. In Marina’s words, “The box gave me hope that there is kindness out there, there is love out there, and that I could have it. And I did have it…in a simple box!” Click below to see her tell the story:
This whole shoebox endeavor reminds me of the starfish story—attributed, I believe, to Loren Eiseley and adapted many times over—that goes something like this:
One day a man was walking along the beach when he noticed a boy picking something up and gently throwing it into the ocean. Approaching the boy, he asked, “What are you doing?” The youth replied, “Throwing starfish back into the ocean. The surf is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them back, they’ll die.” “Son,” the man said, “don’t you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish? You can’t make a difference!”
After listening politely, the boy bent down, picked up another starfish, and threw it back into the surf. Then, smiling at the man, he said…” I made a difference for that one.”
The Felted Wool Blanket Master Class begins Tuesday, October 1! If you’ve been wanting to learn how to make a felted wool blanket of your own or for a gift, now could be the time. To learn more or to enroll, click the button:
• • • • • • •
Last week, while in the midst of settling the final pieces for launching the Felted Wool Blanket Master Class, I got an email from Marina.
Marina was a Fall 2018 student and was writing to say she was heading back into the course materials (lifetime access!) to begin her third blanket. This made me do a little happy dance :)
As I wrote her back, I spontaneously asked if The Green Sheep could feature her in a blog interview to help people learn how the class might fit them. She generously said yes.
So here’s Marina, along with photos of the adorable blanket she made while in the class. Welcome, Marina!
• • • • • • •
Joan: Marina, tell us a little about yourself, what you value, and what makes you you.
Marina: I think of myself as a maker of things and a life-long learner. I grew up in France in the 60s when cooking from scratch and making things by hand was valued. Whenever I make something, whether it’s food or a garden bouquet or a quilt or a knitted gift, I want each thing to be something people use and gain joy in every day. Then I feel nurtured and alive!
I gladly share what I know, and I am grateful that I have found equally sharing folk along the way. I see a newfound respect for handmade things, I see a time when we will have less stuff and finer objects, made with love and caring, and that fills me with optimism!
Marina: I have been sewing on and off since college, from making household furnishings to clothes, then simple quilts, at first. I am also a gardener, and like to pull my areas of interest together, like when I made pin cushions with the log cabin quilt design and filled them with lavender from my garden. (Gardening is, by the way, much like quilting and blanket making: color work, on a grander scale!)
Joan: Would the course materials be appropriate for someone who may have sewn a bit in the past but who considers themselves still a beginner?
Marina: I think the course materials are appropriate for anyone who has a basic understanding of how to operate a sewing machine and has had experience with simple assembly.
Joan: What caused you to choose to sign up for the Master Class?
Marina: I came across your work through Pinterest, I believe, and I was so impressed with the aesthetics, the quality and the thoughtfulness of your blankets that I started following this blog. I jumped on the opportunity to take the class because I love the idea of repurposing beautiful textiles. I think of it as a modern version of the quilting tradition to make do, to be thrifty and creative at the same time, and to create something new from something that has served a previous purpose.
I was particularly impressed with the concept that the master class would be available to use indefinitely, since I knew I’d need to refresh my memory after a hiatus when the garden, or knitting, or quilting, takes first place.
Joan: You described so well the value in being able to go back to the curriculum! I found that to be true in online classes I was in—that’s what caused me to offer the same.
In the course, I encourage class participants to not be afraid to experiment. With two blankets under your belt now, can you share what you learned from the process of doing and experimenting?
Marina: That is some of your best advice! Working with felted knitted woolens is at the same time more challenging and more forgiving than working with woven materials, with which I am very familiar. The only way to make progress and get comfortable with the process is to do—I think that is true of all crafts. Be brave and do it! Truly, what could seem daunting is not if you follow the step-by-step approach, get your first blanket done, and then plan another.
Joan: I’m so glad to hear you’re going back to the course materials as you start this THIRD blanket—it tells me the curriculum has longevity. What can you gain from the course again at this stage?
Marina: After the master class was finished I went through it twice more in the process of finishing my first blanket. What happens, as you get more familiar and comfortable with the process, is that little things pop up that you may not remember the first time. And I can assure you that I will refer to the master class video every single time I make the binding! I found with your method that everything you recommended matters, and if I follow your advice, I don’t steer too far out of line!
My first two blankets have a lot of graphic detail. They were gifts to newborns and I wanted them to be as much play mats as blankets, fun and cozy. The bonus appliqué advice at the end of the class was enough to give me the confidence to “do and experiment” there as well.
My third blanket I hope will recall my garden. Swaths of color, paths, a timber frame garden house, a huge hedge, a woodland in the back ground. Right now I think it will be a more abstract design, more impressionistic than literal. In that project I am going through the master class again to focus on improving my techniques: better seams, tidier corners, using some more challenging felts, such as thicker material and textures.
Joan: I’m eager to see what you do next! What attracts you to working with wool?
Marina: I have spent so much time handling material that I really value the hand feel of wool, especially felted wool. I also have an affinity for what comes from nature. One of my dearest friends raises alpacas, and working with fiber that I have seen literally seen grow is very inspiring.
Joan: Thank you, Marina, for spending this time talking to me and to the readers. It was a pleasure working with you in the class, and it’s been an extra treat here for me to get to know you better!