quilted coasters

the project in which my sewing machine got cranky and spewed pieces at me. then promptly stopped working. permanently.



i am a collector of pretty things. i love craft books with pretty pictures and patterns. i collect them, with the intent to make pretty things, but end up with far more patterns than any one person could every make (except maybe jenny, who is the most prolific crafter i have ever seen)

but its not just books, its yarns and fabrics too. right now my yarn stash far outweighs my fabric stash, but i have collected a considerable stack of fat quarters recently. this fabric came all bundled up, a stack of blue batik-y fabrics all folded and tied with a pretty blue ribbon. seriously, whoever the person is that thought "lets bundle up all these scraps and tie them together and see if we can convince people to buy them" was a GENIUS. or i'm a sucker. whatever.



these coasters are a super quick and easy pattern from Last Minute Patchwork + Quilted Gifts. there are five colors, and i got five coasters out of each. so if any one wants some blue coasters, let me know. i've got a bazillion. I've also got some more neutral fabrics in browns, yellows, and greens that will better match our decor. i thought these would make a good practice set, but as it turns out, they're so easy that even the practice ones are pretty nice.


on the topic of my sewing machine, my four year old low-end brother machine bit the dust. it all happened so fast, but i think the foot caught and bent (or something) and all i know is the needle hit something it wasn't supposed to and it snapped it half and several integral bits that attach both foot and needle to the machine went skittering off under various pieces of furniture. i could probably be repaired, but for more than i paid for the machine. so dr. z went and got me a new machine today... what an awesome guy, eh? went all by himself to get a sewing machine.

goodbye philodendron,

its been fun.

i don't have a green thumb, in fact i typically kill most plants immediately upon taking them out of the greenhouse from which i purchased them. having mr. z around (actually i guess that's dr. Z now since he graduated this weekend, but that's another post) seems to help though, mainly because he actually remembers to water them.

however, when my parents packed up everything in my childhood home and moved across the country last november, my mom gave me all her plants. my mom does have a green thumb, very green. i swear the woman can grow anything. but that's not the point. the point is, she gave me several large, luscious, beautiful plants of various types. one of which we think was a philodendron of some sort. surprisingly, all of these inherited plants have fared very well. they were big, and green, and they made my apartment look nicer. notice the past tense...

but before we get to the tragic fate of the philodendron, let me introduce you to kodiak. kodiak is an integral player in the story of the philodendron (i just like that word. it sounds smart).


this is one of my adorably infuriating fur-kids. i have to admit, he is my favorite. not that i don't love nizhoni to pieces, but kodi is a mama's boy. i wonder sometimes if its like that when you have real, human children. sure you tell them you love them all the same, but do you really have one you like a little bit more than the rest? i like to think this is true because it allows me to believe that i'm the favorite in my family. (just kidding, mom)

anyway, that's kodiak. handsome, isn't he? last weekend kodiak had an upset tummy. at roughly 3:30am on saturday. i woke up to find him hacking and heaving, as though he were preparing to throw up all over my bedroom floor. being the concerned dog-parent that i am, i opened up the bedroom door, figuring at least if he yacked, he should do it downstairs on the wood floor where it would be easier to clean up than it would be on the carpet. then i went back to sleep.

you know how they say dogs eat grass to calm their stomachs? apparently in a pinch, they'll eat whatever green thing they can find. including every single leaf off a rather large, prolific philodendron.


prior to this weekend, this plant was so lush, you couldn't even see that board that held it up. and notice the long bare tendril in the front here, where every last leaf is gone. *sigh*