Set free as vintage gloves
There is something about an object with a story. A witness to the past. However humble it may be, turning it over in your hand, or stroking the surface, it has a tale to tell. Sometimes it is already known. Documented. Other times you can follow the clues. As a crafter, a real joy for me is that occasionally, I can add to its story, before setting it free to continue the journey.
These gloves are a good example.
Back in September, I picked up four balls of yarn from a charity shop. Each 1 ounce and 100% pure “new” wool. Made in Great Britain. In other words, they had been spun and wrapped before the metric system was introduced into the UK. Before my time.
Judging by the font of the writing on the paper band around each ball, I guess that these balls of yarn had started their journey around the 1960s. Someone had bought them. Maybe there were more of them and only these four had been surplus to requirements. Were they stored away all that time, or had they jumped from one charity shop to another?
I only popped in to the shop, as I had unexpected bonus of time to kill. It was a lucky find. Priced at a level that I could never buy 100% pure wool in a modern wool shop.
I knew straight away that they would make a perfect pair of gloves. Also, who they should be given to. I dug out my favourite vintage glove pattern, which I’ve knitted many times. The pattern used to belong to my grandmother. It has her notes, scribbled all over it. Anyway, it felt like the right period.
I made a mistake with the sizing. I knitted one glove and had to undo it. Second time around, I knitted both gloves at the same time. With something like gloves, it makes sure that they match.
The gloves are now finished and gifted on to my sister. I’ve told her that once she is finished with them, that she should send them on their journey. Set free from their paper band and their charity shop basket, they feel like they need to continue their story. She says that it won’t be for a while. They are exceedingly warm to wear. I hope that they will journey with her for a bit.
So the moral of the story is to check out the odd ball section of the charity shops. There is a chance that you might just find something that deserves a turn to be set free.
I still have two balls left. I already know what to make from them.
All about the tablecloth
Almost to the day, two years ago, I found a hand embroidered tablecloth in a local charity shop. The stitches were beautiful. Clusters of flowers, joined by ribbons and bows. I cannot imagine how long it took the stitcher to stitch the whole cloth. It looks like love has been poured into the piece. All those little, precise stitches sewn in colourful threads. It hadn’t faded either.
I could be over romanticizing it, of course. It has been known. The embroiderer might have hated it. Completing it under duress. Stabbing the linen with each stitch, but I don’t think so. Something made them finish it. The stitches are too good. I can’t believe they didn’t feel some joy while making it. That’s good enough for me. I’m going with the love. Just look at those flowers. I’d be proud to make it.
Needless to say, I wasn’t going to allow it to languish on the charity shop shelf any longer. It needed to be used and admired.
So I brought it home. Washed it. Used it once. Then put it away in the cupboard and there it stayed.
Sigh.
Part of the problem was that I wanted to use it outside. Now we tend to use a parasol for the tables outside, to provide extra shade. Any cloth we use would need a hole slap bang in the middle, which my rescued table cloth did not have.
A couple of days ago, inspiration struck. I’d make a hole. Not a big light bulb moment, admittedly, but maybe I needed the two years to realise I wasn’t going to use the table cloth for anything else, and it wasn’t going to be used unless a hole was cut.
Deep breath. Scissors out. Snip.
To tidy the cut edges and stop it fraying, I encased them in bias binding. I had just enough off-white coloured binding for the straight edges. I used a dark red to go round the hole. I hand stitched most of it, as I wanted to keep it true to its original making style.
Diving into my ribbon drawer, I found two pieces of red gingham ribbon. Different widths, but I decided the smaller one would look good at the table cloth edge without overpowering the surrounding flowers and the wider one would work in the centre.
They don’t distract from the embroidered flowers.
Final touch was to make a cream tea and serve it outside today. (Scones, with jam and cream, and tea.) I think it was a bit of a surprise for the children when they got in from school. Fine china and cream teas is not an every day occurrence. Never to miss out on a good thing, the children seemed to take the change of routine in their stride. Scones soon disappeared. Let’s hope they don’t expect this every day from now on.
I’m so glad I gave the table cloth a new lease of life. It should stay on more times out of ten, against the wind too. I don’t know the story behind the cloth and how it ended up in a charity shop, but I hope the person who made it would appreciate the care I’ve taken and the use it will now get.
Pie dishes and car boot sale
We went to a local car boot sale over the weekend. It’s been a while. I warned the children not to expect to buy anything. Always go with a minimal, mental list of things you’d like to find and avoid impulse buying, otherwise all you’re doing is moving clutter from one home to another. Shifting the problem. It works if one person’s clutter becomes your desired purchase. Everyone wins that way.
So included on my list were garden tools (I could do with another fork), a tailors dummy (I live in hope) and individual pie dishes. I know I could buy all these first hand very easily and have it all straight away, but that’s daft if I can help someone else clear their clutter and save it going to a landfill. It’s one of the reasons I try to buy nothing new. 
I’m patient. I can wait to find the right solution.
(Unless it’s fabric. Then the conversation in my head, about the gorgeous new fabric in my hands, goes on a whole heap longer and can get heated. Fabric is my weakness, but I’m working on it)
Also I find items fall off the list after a while, proving I really didn’t need them.
I think by the end, the children were more than ready to go home. They chattered happily in the car about the strange things they’d seen for sale, conversations they’d overheard and no one was upset about coming home empty handed.
Nestled by my feet, were a stack of small pie dishes.
Six of them.
They are the ceramic dishes that Charlie Bingham’s pies come in. I’ve never tried this range of pies. I like to make my own. I’m assuming that the owner of the stall must have absolutely loved them, as she had a box brimming over with these dishes. Empty and clean! Perfect for my pie making. I bought 6 for £1.
Last night, I used them to make fruit crumble. Using up leftovers before my supermarket delivery arrives today. I mixed pears, blueberries and raspberries, with a dash of almond essence. I’m not sure if it was the new dishes, the stormy weather raging outside or the fruit combination, but everyone really loved the crumble. Bowls were cleaned.
The new dishes have given me the chance to try out something else that’s been on my list – bowl cosies. Especially important as the dishes are coming straight out of the Aga and I wanted to protect everyone’s hands. Turns out that bowl cosies are ridiculously easy to make. A few darts and the flat square turn into a bowl, with the perfect dimensions for my new individual pie dishes.
I’ve made one so far, as a proof of concept. I’m using Aldi fat quarters, with cotton wadding. Sewn up with cotton thread. The theory is that by avoiding mademade fibres, I can put these in the microwave or my lower oven, without fear of anything melting. It makes it easier to lift the hot bowls out. The cosies can either be held by two diagonal corners or in the palm of your hands. Even if it spills, the fabric catches most of the hot splashes before they can hit anyone. Usually me, to be honest.
It’s reversible too. I’m not sure how important that feels to me at the moment. I guess that some dishes will look better against the yellow and others with the blue. Flexibility to change the colour may be nice, but I’m more interesting in making a set of cosies that complement each other but not match. I am not a matching kind of person.
Sometimes you win. Sometimes you lose. I’m quite happy with my new pie dishes. Love that it pushed me to dabble in a new sewing project too. It seems to have gone down well with everyone. Even had requests for customised bowl cosies. I like that. It means they are already picturing themselves using these cosies for late evening, garden eating.
Oh. Roll on summer!
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