Yesterday I described my discovery of Anne Brandon Jones, and mentioned that I had made, but not used, the gauges she suggests for planning embroidery. Thereby hangs a tale.
I knew I wanted to make the semicircular gauge out of something more robust than the paper Ms Brandon Jones suggests. My first thought was Vilene. (When I tried to type Vilene, autocorrect suggested ‘vileness’ which is pretty much what I think of craft Vilene, but I was thinking more of dressmaking weight, the heaviest I could find in my stash of stuff left over from things I no longer do.) However, in the box of stuff left over from things I no longer do, I found some stuff I probably bought because it seemed like a good idea at the time but I don’t remember doing so. (Anyone who did C&G Stitched Textiles who doesn’t have such a stash either has immense self control or is lying.)
In this case it was some heavier weight Lutradur. I don’t loathe Lutradur quite as much as I loathe craft Vilene, but I’m not especially fond of the stuff. However it seemed like a good idea to use it for the gauges. So skillfully translating Ms Brandon Jones’ inches into centimetres, I cut out the semicircles, folded them as suggested (with some difficulty, a bone folder helped), and made a selection of semicircular gauges.
Then it was time to find some rug canvas. I knew I had some – that’s in the category of I had a purpose for it when I bought it but the purpose – in this case latch hooking – turned out to be not as interesting as I thought it would be. I thought the rug canvas was in one of the rolls on the top shelf of the cupboard where I put things I’m pretending I never bought. But it wasn’t.
I remembered cutting off a chunk recently, some of which I used for a running stitch sample. I thought the rest was probably in the 7 stacked boxes in my workroom cupboard. (There are more than 7 boxes in there, but the others are on shelves. I knew the canvas was unlikely to be in those, because the stacked boxes are stacked in front of them so I only go into them when desperate.
Because the stacked boxes are, as their name suggests, stacked, I had to move most of them, because of course the boxes the canvas was most likely to be in were near the bottom.
While doing this I realised that the boxes were not stacked in a sensible order. The things I used most were, of course, at the bottom. So I decided to rearrange them. In the process I realised that one of the boxes, full of the fabric scraps I use frequently, was marginally bigger and wouldn’t stack on top of the others. So I had to swap its contents with those of the bottom box.
Some time ago, in a Pink Pig sale, I bought 3 kilos of sketchbooks. As you do. If 3 kilos sounds like a lot of sketchbooks, it is. And I have a lot of them left. They had to be at the bottom because of the weight. So I had to take them out of the box they were in, replace that box with the biggest one, and put the sketchbooks in that. And then put the former contents of the biggest box in the slightly smaller one. Did I mention I have an arthritic back?
After that, replacing the other boxes was straightforward. Except that after I’d put the last one in, I remembered that I’d been going to go through them to look for the rug canvas. Fortunately, the most likely boxes were now more easy to access. I looked through them, but no rug canvas. (I’ve since remembered I used it to make some woven 3D – er – things.
In desperation, I went back to the roll of stuff I’d first looked through. Where, of course, I found the canvas.