Works in Progress...

 Hi everyone! I am extremely excited. There are so many new things happening all at once that I'm not sure which way to turn. But in a good way, you know? 

For one, there's my booth at Griffin's Antiques and Main St. Market. It's sort of an antiques store, flea market, artist market and cafe all rolled into one huge building. There are almost 70 booths, and the items range into just about anything. One booth is called SWAG. Two young girls who make and sell swags. That's it. Swag decorations of all shapes and sizes and fabrics. It's crazy. And that's only one example. 

My booth has my quilted art, some door hangers, and some painted sky pieces with Biblical quotes on them. As soon as there's room, I'll add charcuterie boards and one-of-a-kind, handmade Christmas ornaments. 

Back to my overly busy life: my un-, This World So Fierce, 6 available in ebook format at Amazon beginning tomorrow. You can find it easily if you search amazon.com for "this world so fierce marcotte." Adding my name to the end really helps to bring it to the top. Otherwise, every book with world or fierce in the title will be above your search.

And then there's this website that I've been trying to build. I'm not certain about whether I can do it myself, but I have to try. If you feel like visiting and letting me know what you think, I'd love your input. You can find it at http://www.marymarcotte.com. Really, I need all the help and suggestions I can get.

Days seem to be a hot commodity. Appointments, family, and commitments seem to be vying for full days. I mean, sure, I can give a few hours, but the entire day? I do not like scheduling something for a whole day. It's like blocking out the sun. I wake up from the fog and it's night. The day is gone. 

Anyway, here we are. I was supposed to be explaining something about this blog and the new website. Since the website is taking so long to put together, I think I'll continue to blog here once or twice a week, skipping the Pinterest posts. Let's face it, I can't visit Pinterest. Those rabbit holes are deep and wide. Falling in may mean not waking up from the fog.

So until the next time...

An excerpt from This World So Fierce

  

Yesterday, I told you my exciting news about my book to be published and on shelves soon. I also promised a short excerpt from the book. This is the point in which the protagonist, Mike, meets his new foster family and begins to question where he fits in. 

“He’s eight. I’m nine. He’s in fourth, I’m in second. His teacher, Mrs. Sheryl, says he’s smart enough to know when to be quiet” answered Willie, who answered for Frankie from habit.

“Are you?” asked Mike.

“Ha, nope,” laughed Max and Willie simultaneously.

“Supper’s ready,” called Molly from the door.

“Let’s eat. Fish gravy and French fries,” yelled Willie as he raced back into the small blue and white frame house.

Inside, the rest of the family waited to begin serving plates. Molly quickly placed a large, black-iron pot of catfish sauce piquante in the center of an oak table built of wide rough-hewn planks sanded smooth and waxed to a rich honey-color; she surrounded the pot with bowls of white rice and sliced cucumbers and a platter of fries. Chairs and two benches lined the sides of the table, giving the setting a homey, picnic-like feel. Photos of the children hung on the wall just above the table, which was pushed in toward the wall when not in use. Mixed in with the photos were drawings from some of the kids, crosses, and a plaque with the phrase, “The world so fierce cannot harm family.” Quickly the children found their places and sat down. As the noise settled, Molly invited Mike to sit on one end of the bench closer to the wall and asked Max to say a blessing. Then the chatter picked up again as introductions were made and each child told Mike a little about himself and shared something about his day with the rest of the family. Nikki spoke apprehensively, twisting her fingers on her lap as she spoke to the young man. For some reason—perhaps it was the dark eyes that seemed to stare through her—he frightened her.

Mike told them about himself, but Bud had already filled them in when the family discussed his coming. As he spoke, Mike thought of his real story, not the watered-down version that he had practiced for the last couple of days. His parents were just in the tenth grade when he was born and, at first, he was to live with Meme until they could graduate and get on their feet. They never managed either, quitting school as soon as they were old enough to do so.  Drugs and alcohol were a constant in their lives. They could not hold down jobs, and the split came as no surprise to anyone but Mike. Though Josie had come to get him several times, those times did not last more than a few weeks or months. Her using and her boyfriends always seemed to be more important. Finally—and it ended this way every time—she gave up, chose her life and brought him back to Meme. Back and forth this way, never attending school when he was with Josie, never knowing when or what he would eat, never truly safe, he became a shell of a boy. Then, just as easily and without reason, Josie returned to Meme’s small house for a visit. Always she left a few days later without telling either Meme or Mike goodbye or where she was headed.

He and Meme had not heard from Josie in years, and he assumed she was never coming back. Meme had died two years ago. He was in LTI when she died and that was it. He ended the introduction by noting that now he had only a month to answer to the State. He’d be 18 and on his own. He planned to make his own life.

At this last bit of information Bud and Molly looked at each other. Keeping him in school until graduation would be difficult. The state would allow him to remain in their home beyond his birthday, provided he stayed in school and worked toward his diploma. Their goal was to do exactly that—keep him in school even though it meant he may have another year to go. They knew, however, that earning his diploma would mean a lifetime of difference in his ability to find work and earn a decent wage.

Bud prompted the kids sitting around the table, “The world so fierce…”

“Cannot harm family,” they responded in unison.

“It sounds kinda corny, but we say it for each other, Mike. It’s just a line from a poem. It means we make our own family,” Shane explained.

“Yeah. We pick our destin,” Max added.

“Destiny. But that’s only one word. We choose each other and we choose to find joy in each other. It’s kinda hard to put into words, but you’ll see. We’re brothers and sisters. Just like in other families, cause that’s what we choose,” Trish summed up.

“It’s our way of knowing that we have each other. When other people look at us like we’re weirdos…”

“Or call us “the Orphans,” Trish chimed in.

“Yeah, or whatever else they want to say. It doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, we’re all sitting here just like a normal family and we know we can count on each other.” Shane summed up.

“Yeah, and we don’t hurt each other, right, Bud-wiser?” Willie had taken to calling Bud numerous silly nicknames. It had become something of challenge to create new names, but this was his favorite so far.

A Confession, a Secret, and Good News

If you're wondering how that title makes sense, remember it's one of mine. That said, there are both a confession and good news. The confession first: I have been keeping a secret. For years now. But the secret is out, so I've decided to make it official here as well. Ta Da!

I've written a book and it's going to be published! Yes, that's what I said. A book. By me. Published soon. I know this last bit of news because I APPROVED the cover and the text. Today. Just a minute ago I was working on a client quilt. Finished, I removed it from the frame and trimmed it up. Even cut the binding.

Then my phone dinged. Usually I ignore dings, but I didn't. I had an email saying I had proofs to deal with. Now, if you had book proofs dinging away and a quilt needing a binding, which would you choose to do first? That binding? No way! You'd want to see your dinging book. It is calling after all. So off I went.

Here's the biggest issue I've had with the book: publishing. Writing is easy peasy. Not that publishing is difficult. No, it's clicking the buttons that's difficult. First a button agreeing to terms. Then a payment button--scary. Heavens, it got worse--the next button was to upload the book. To say (to myself) "it's ready to go. There's nothing left to add or detract, to modify or correct or edit or change, or, or, or...."

Yes, that button was a tough one. But at least that button wasn't the final button. No, the final button is the one that says, "okay, I've found ALL the mistakes, I've corrected all those errors. Anything I find now, I'll have to live with. Forever. Live with. Forever." 

Oh wow! The fretting and hemming and hawing and sleeping on it and not sleeping. Night after night of not sleeping. Richard offered to press the button for me. But I put on the big girl step-ins and clicked. Finally. I may have cried just a little tiny bit but I don't think so.

There, the corrections are in. People made those edits, rather quickly, actually. It took less time than clicking the button that sent the corrections. How is it no one else seems to be struggling with these clicks? At any rate, the phone dinged. (We're back to the beginning here.) I opened the files, looked at the revisions I had asked for and... clicked. CLICK. Done. I didn't give myself time to think. 

I may regret that. Well, too bad. It's clicked. The deed done. The stress over. Now I just have to wait for the first books to arrive at my door and hit the shelves. 

In my excitement, I've written enough for several posts. So come back tomorrow and read a short excerpt from the book, This World So Fierce by Mary Bourque Marcotte. (That's me!)

The end of this foolishness

Update: Hurricane Laura is expected to arrive on the heel of our Louisiana boot within the next few hours. Though it is unlikely to affect us, we are concerned about friends who live in the Lake Charles area and family in the Lafayette area. Please pray for the Texans and Louisianans who will be affected by this cat 4 hurricane. 

Remember when I wrote about the hideous quilt on the design wall?

I just realized (sitting here waiting for Hurricane Laura to turn off the lights) that I was tormented by that quilt all the way back in June! 

On the 9th I wrote about trying to start work on it (again) and really didn't get very far. By the end of the month I had gotten to a point that I thought I'd call it quits. But I couldn't because, well, the quilt top wasn't done. It's still hanging on the design wall. I've been working just not on this quilt. In fact, I've been working but not writing. I have a long list of posts that I should catch up on:

1. CQG meeting and sew day
2. BRMQG happenings
3. Mrs. Mary Lee's quilt (finish)
4. my own WIP (finished)
5. a finish from the sew day
6. and some pieces that I've been painting
7. wait, I will have a booth in the local crafts mall (opening in October). 

Those are the things I easily thought of. Imagine what I've not told you! I'll try to play catch up if the electricity survives and we don't have a house full of kids and grandies. There's no working in that happy noise.

Back to the hideous quilt dilemma? Two months of sucking the oxygen out of the room is enough time to call it a dud, don't you think? I'll remove it, fold it up very tightly, put it in a plastic bag, and stuff it in a corner in the studio where the kids will find it one day and ask themselves, "What was she thinking?" First, however, I need to listen to the rain and perhaps take a little nap. I love the sound of rain, not storms. Rain.

Sewing Mistakes (cont.)

Yesterday I posted this article about sewing mistakes that even seasoned sewists common make. The idea is to help you avoid some of those mistakes. Caring for your machine and tools and choosing the right needle all seem like a given, right? I am ashamed to admit it, but I've been guilty of all of them. 

You get on a roll and just keep going. You know there's dust clogging up the gears, but in just a minute... Or I think I hear a funny sound, I'll finish this then take a look... Or, my favorite, there are no kids around, so if I leave something unattended... (can we say open rotary cutter?)

Well y'all, really, there are no excuses. We have to maintain our stuff.

So I thought I'd share a few more mistakes and bad habits that you can work on correcting.

Patterns and measuring and those kinds of things. Firstly, if you find a pattern that fits and you understand the directions, stick to that pattern writer or company when possible. I've run across so many indie patterns that simply are not well-written. I'm not talking about the spelling and grammar, though that's important. (I'm an English teacher, after all.) I'm talking about the directions. It's a skill set taught in colleges. Pattern writers should have knowledge and experience in pattern making and technical writing.

Now that said, sometimes you don't have options. You have to go with what you have. Well then, measure. Measure again. Measure every part of the body that is going to fill out the project: bust, waist, hips, arms, back, shoulders, you get the idea.  Write everything down as you go, not just numbers, for example, inseam 33", hip seam 40". I start at the top of the body and move down as necessary.

Check the measurements against the pattern pieces and make adjustments. If you're nervous about ruining your fabric, make a muslin mock-up using large stitches. Once you're comfortable that the pattern is correct, take out the stitches and use the muslin pieces as you new pattern. I have pieces of muslin that I used for a wedding dress some years ago. It still has the measurements and my notes written in Sharpie right on the fabric. 

Pressing and Ironing. These terms seem interchangeable, but nope, not the case. Pressing is an up and down motion trying not to move the iron over the project. Ironing is sliding that iron around, trying to get wrinkles out of fabric or setting chemicals (dye, starch, etc.) into the fabric. Read instructions and make sure you're using the correct temperature. 

To steam or not to steam, that is the question. Not for me. I keep a spritzer bottle at the ironing board. No water ever goes into my iron. Granted I have a steamer, but that's not the reason. It's because I purchase the cheapest iron with automatic shutoff that I can find. They last years and they never have an accident. They can't pee, if they don't drink. 

Your skill set versus learning new techniques. It might seem like a no brainer, but there's something to be said here. If you're just starting out, start small. Avoid frustration by slowly build up your skills. Keep things interesting by, yes, building up your skills. 

If you're a quilter, start out with four-patches. Wedding ring is for years after you've made more curves than you can count. 

If you are sewing garments and other projects, start with elastic waist shorts, aprons, pj bottoms. Graduate to zippers and make tons of small zippered bags. 

Keep in mind that different fabrics move and perform in different ways. When you've made several items with cotton, move to linen, then silk, then chiffon. 

It takes time, patience and great desire to learn the basics and to build skills. Just because you own a pair of running shoes doesn't mean you're ready to run a marathon. My sister trained for three months to go from walking to completing a half-marathon, and she wasn't trying to win!

Critter homes are heaven right here.

 

Richard and I have been enjoying our backyard. The weather has been beautiful, though it is warming up somewhat. Lunch is generally a sandwich and fruit under the catalpa trees. There are two in our yard. They give deep, dark shade. See the red chair? That's my retirement rocker from BHS. Next to it are a green table that Rich made for me and his old green chair from the camper. 

This electrical pole is near the slough, or small lake, on the side of our house. The woodpeckers have made several large holes, which other birds have claimed for homes. Of course, Richard has several bird houses and as many feeders. The birds regal us with their chatter and song while we eat and several times they've given us a show. I especially love to watch the fledglings leave the nest.

The slough is home to ducks, squirrels, rabbits, snakes, turtles, frogs and any other wildlife you can imagine. The owls screech and hoot all night. The woodpeckers tap all day. And we enjoy every bit of it.

One nest that will soon have fledglings is this swallow nest that the parents decided to build on our front porch. Most people would discourage them from making such a mess, but we enjoyed watching them build and are now enjoying seeing the proud parents feed two mouths all day long. Back and forth, the poor things first carried mud and straw to build, now they come and go carrying worms and insects. I'm not sure which has been more work. 

This old boat, the SS Hershey because it was originally chocolate brown, sits on the edge of the slough as a reminder of when the boys were still young. William built it in shop class, and the three of them paddled it around every cypress tree in that slough. Finally they hit one cypress stump too many, tore a hole in it, and sank it. They used their dad's new four wheeler to draw it up on the bank and there it sits. It's a great home for several critters, most of whom I give a wide berth. 

This fella lives near the back window. We've watched him chase the hummingbirds for about two months. Thus far they've proven too fast, but he is persistent. Right below his perch is one of five feeders, but he's also trekked back and forth on the cable wire where the hummers love to perch. Now that they are nesting, we don't see as much of them or him, but they'll be back out soon. And there you have it: our little piece of heaven which we gladly share with the flying, crawling, slithering animals who enjoy it as much as we do.

2000 posts!

I don't know about you, but 2,000 seems like a big number. If it were in dollars, I'd be smiling pretty big, right? There you go--big! As it is, I'm smiling anyway. It seems this year will be a years of celebration. First, we've crossed the 300 mark for Pin It Weekly. As of today 2000+ posts. And later this year, we'll cross the ten year anniversary. 

It feels rather surreal to have started out as just a way of dealing with the pain of my mom's death (oh, the posts I've written and never published, just for the sake of putting the words somewhere). And there was that idea of documenting my quilting journey, after having invested years in my hobby. 

Thank you for sticking with me. Some followers have been here almost from the beginning, others have just begun, but you all are important to me. I appreciate every click, every read, every comment, every follow. And especially, every friendship we've cultivated along the way. 

Christmas 2019: A TREE

I have not been doing much crafting. Or sewing. Or quilting. However, before leaving for Disney I made a couple of decorations for the tree. They are simply strings of large beads on a very thin wire. I added skinny ribbon to hang them on the branches. 

I really like them. They aren't showy like most ornaments, but they are pretty. I hung each one on a branch so that it dangles freely any time the tree moves, which is when the tykes are here. That's been a few days in the last two weeks.

At nap time in Deedee's house everyone sleeps in one chair.

Speaking of the tree, it looks pretty good this year. I've decided that the trick is to fluff the branches and hang lots of ornaments. Lots. Just keep adding. My angel topper did not survive summer in the attic, so I made a topper with some red ribbon I bought in the after-Christmas sale last year. 

Since putting up the tree, I've cleaned the attic. Right? Cleaned. The. Attic. It was a crazy afternoon of getting the Christmas stuff down, realizing how much other stuff was up there and just jumping on another project. Right now, there are no boxes up there. And it's swept! Clean. Like. Never. Before. (Sorry no pictures to prove it but it's real.) I think it's my gift to myself. Ha!

Among our other ornaments, I found these two ornaments that I made a couple of years ago. The mini Santa suit has five pieces, socks, hat, pants and coat. The tassel is made of crewel thread, sheer ribbon, beads all in red and a bit of gold trim. It's an easy ornament and you can find my tutorial to make it here. The tutorial for embellishing it is here. I'm guessing you have everything you need on hand. Am I right?

Dora and Diego ~~ a finish!

Some time ago I pulled a variety of novelty fabrics and started sewing them together in whatever fashion they'd agree to. Some of them had to be urged into a spot. Others had to be throttled into place.

This morning I searched for a backing and discovered this piece of Dora the Explorer fabric. It's left over from little skorts that I made for Catherine or Sophie who are nine and eight years old, so it's been a while. It was just big enough for backing and binding.
I got a little bored while quilting and decided to concoct a story (Preeti style) about Dora and Diego's play date.

One day Dora and Diego were playing soccer in the park, but just two people aren't really enough for a game, so they used a pretty phone to call Strawberry Shortcake and Cookie Monster to join them. 

On her way Strawberry saw four friends walking their dogs. Maggie and Millie and Mollie and May--those little girls from e.e. cumings' poem who usually play on the beach. "Molly was chased by a horrible thing" but it didn't hurt her and so she went along.

They all walked passed a large zoo and invited the big cats and a blue elephant.

Cookie Monster called all of his monster friends. It's turns out that they love to play soccer. So everyone came to the game.

In the meantime The Cat in the Hat, Thing One and Thing Two and other Dr. Suess characters happened by the soccer field on their way to the library, and Diego shouted "Puedes venir a jugar" which means you can come play! Naturally, they all joined in the fun. 

The game started late because the alligators tried to make trouble. We do all live in Louisiana, after all. But they agreed to keep score and gators can't count, so it was just a game for fun. Everyone went home to the zoo or the beach or where ever home was, but only after they agreed to another play date soon.

A Christmas Wedding

My niece and her fiance were married on Sunday in a small town south of Houston. It's the one that I wrote about when I altered her wedding dress only two weeks before. We decided to drive in early to lend a hand where needed, and then to drive home after the reception. It made for a long day as Alvin is almost five hours' drive, but it gave us a chance to chat without interruption. Always a good thing! 

On the way to Alvin, we stopped in Lake Charles to attend Mass at St. Margaret of Ireland Catholic Church. It's easy to get to and the church is beautiful. 

Check out that organ! The organist knows her instrument and the choir knows how to sing together. They were flawless to my ears. It was a bit difficult paying attention to mass when there were so many distractions. 

Those stained glass windows, for example, are stunning. The glow on the top of the windows? Oh, that's the noonday sun shining through. Yes, they are that brilliant! There was also the multilevel altar. I've never seen one, so I was curious how things were done. I kept my eyes on every movement of the altar servers and eucharistic ministers and, of course, the priest and deacon.

Amanda and James

But the stop in Lake Charles was part of a bigger event: my niece's wedding. It was beautifully decorated in wine and white with touches of gold and many Christmas lights in the park were the venue is. The venue itself is an old train depot that's been transformed into a visitor's center and small wedding venue.

One thing is certain, my family knows how to do weddings. Even a small one (45ish people) is a big family thing. This is the bride whose dress I altered a couple of weeks ago. She was beautiful and poised and comfortable enough to close the evening still in the dress and heels. 

a toast to the bride and groom

Doug and Lee (mother of the bride)

Like all weddings in our family it was a family affair. Four of us eight girls were present and each of us had a chore. Angie served as official and as general mistress of ceremonies. Lee is the mother of the bride, so she was in everything. Laura is an accomplished photographer. 

Half of the sisters: Angie, Lee, Laura and moi

I was kitchen help, sort of. I just hung around the venue letting people in, putting out food, and whatever needed doing. I have experience with several weddings and proms and anniversary parties, so I know what needs doing. (Besides I do like to be bossy.) And there you go. 

Quilting teaches me..... Finish

Introduction
I've been quilting for a lifetime, literally, and have come to the conclusion that we do what we love in part because it challenges us to learn. Anyone who quilts can attest to the idea of learning about fabric and supplies, blocks and backings, sewing and making. 
I'm exploring the other things that quilting teaches. See a list below for the full list of essays.

Finish what I start
I've always been a maker. Well, sort of. I started out a maker of quick projects. When night fell on a project it was done. No matter the stage of completeness. So a half-sewn blouse eventually went into a box, lost to other options. I didn't like losing so I rushed through everything. No. I mean everything: housecleaning, cooking, sewing, yardwork. I just had this idea that I had to hurry. 

Maybe that need to hurry came from my upbringing. My parents were farmers so when we went in the field, whether to plant or hoe or gather, there was always a grown-up saying "hurry" to a kid. Me or one of my sisters or everyone at the same time. Oh, we rested--no one was breaking any child-labor laws. But when you're dropping seeds into a row and the tractor is running, you need to "move" or "come on" or "hurry" or "stop playing and work."

So if to hurry meant to satisfy a grown-up, then to be a grown-up one had to hurry. To hurry meant finishing. In farming finishing is the result of working hard, efficiently and steadily. Getting to the end of the row or patch, filling a bushel, selling everything we brought to the farmers' market. Finishing was as important as hurrying. 

Now quilting. We all know that quilting is a big, long-term endeavor. Working hard, efficiently and steadily might get one to the end of the quilt, but rarely does one make a bed quilt in a day. Eleanor Burns' style or not. A small quilt wasn't really a quilt. Baby quilts were pretty rare--babies slept with their parents. Toddlers even slept with parents. 

By the time a baby needed a quilt, he/she was probably going into a big bed with siblings. At least that's how it was in our family and extended family. Pushing a child out of a parental bed was a huge topic of discussion among adults and required finesse. 

That's how things were in my own family. Will (our oldest) slept with us until he was almost three years old. We only convinced him by telling him he would sleep with the new baby. We put him in a single bed with the baby bed in the same room. Soon I'd need a quilt, but it was early summer so I had time. 

Make a quilt everyone said. I knew how to sew, it would be easy. But I couldn't do it in a day. It would take days and weeks. Maybe even months. Boy did that scare me! But lots of encouragement and love and small blocks became big sections. Then big sections became a quilt top. And I quilted it using my home machine. 
I'm most certain that the patches were uneven, no corner matched another, and lines were more curved than straight. 

That didn't matter. What mattered was that I finished. It took weeks, maybe the entire summer, but by winter there was a newly made quilt on our son's bed. And I had made it. I became unstoppable then! No sewing was too big or daunting or overwhelming. 

Thanks to that first quilt, and many quilts since, I learned that there's a balance between hurrying and working. That long-term doesn't have to mean not starting. Or putting the project away unfinished. And that opened up a new world of sewing. The list of possibilities and projects became challenges. What could I conquer? 

• Christmas gifts for family? check 
• Clothing for my children? check
• Prom dress for a sister? check 
• Wedding dress? check 
• More quilts? check check check

Quilting teaches me...

Perseverance

Charity

Simplicity

Patience

Why

Authenticity

Courage

Contentment

Frugality

Finish