Red-Tail Designs

My 6-year-old made this for me. “Mom, you can take this to shows and hang it up so people know where to go to your website.”

Meeting Tootsie.

Head up. Chin parallel to the ground. Chest open. Hands in a triangle. Knees and thighs pressed in. Heels down. Toes pointed up. Look where you’re going not where you are.

Do all that at the same time…oh, and make that horse go forward.

Huh?

Yesterday we braved the rain for horse riding lessons at Windmill Farm. In an indoor ring, thankfully. This is our first foray into a mother-daughter, quality-time activity that is chasing my daughter’s dream of being an equestrian. She’s 6 so dreams loom large and oh-so-graspable without consequence of time or cost. She was beaming when she got off Tootsie at the end of the lessons. My legs hurt when I got off K.C., but I had a great time.

Despite the amount of time horses have been in my life, I’m really not a very good rider. My teen years spent taking care of horses didn’t actually include riding. So on the ground, I’m an ace at reading ears and eyes and keeping control. Once I’m up on top, well… let’s just say it’s a long way to the ground.

My limited riding included lots of western pleasure rides and a week at Girl Scout horse camp learning to ride English. Two memories stand out from camp: 1) a horse got colic (didn’t know what that was but the instructor with the accent looked very frantic) 2)  my horse jumped 3 feet to the right when another horse he didn’t like got too close. Being scared out of your mind kinda puts a crimp in your pole-bending.

Those first few instructions on form yesterday were more than I ever remember learning before. Maybe it’s because I’m older and can pay attention .

For a few moments I could do all those things and lead K.C. where I wanted him to go. I am an equestrian! And then my mind would wander….

The riding lesson reminded me a lot of my first few yoga classes. It seemed near impossible to control all those physical aspects at once, while maintaining focus on what I needed to do next. I’m sure with time it will become natural.

Right now my daughter and I are committed to 3 lessons. We’ll see if she’s still determined to be a collegiate equestrian after a few weeks. If she is, well, my updates may become pleas for you to support my business so I can afford her horse lessons.

The carpet is in and the walls are painted. Yeah! Here are the results of phase 1 of my studio remodel.

This project began with repainting the peeling ceiling in my husband’s office. Before we knew it, the project blossomed into an entire 3rd floor remodel.

This is the closet wall without carpet. I finally got my orange wall! I nearly painted my daughter’s room orange a few years ago, but my husband had the foresight to see that our pink-&-purple-aholic wasn’t going to outgrown that anytime soon.

My new Ikea Norden table folds down on both sides. I imagine this being very versatile with kids crafting on one end and me on the other end.

This is the sewing corner with walls painted but no carpet.

And the sewing corner with sewing machine in place. The crates of fabric will have a new home soon.

Finally I can have my sewing machine out ALL the time.

Ripping out the stairs carpet was an exercise in frustration. Each surface had a separate piece of carpet held on with about 50 staples. Ripping it out without throwing myself down the stairs was the most strenuous part of this whole project.

The stairs going to my studio were covered in a lovely pinky-red carpet.

Every dot is where a stapled needed to be pulled out with a pliers. Fun!

I ran out of momentum after the carpet went in. Where to put all my crafting and business supplies? Luckily help is on the way. Monday I meet with Chris from In Order to help me figure out how to organize my studio.

Hello!

Yes, I’m still here. Not hiding under a rock or in a cave. Not even still buried under the blizzard from last week.

I have, however, been lost in painting and ripping up carpet. My studio is getting a makeover, as is my husband’s office. So all this noncommunication has been the result of spending every free minute scraping, spackling, painting and putting up new lights.

We’re reaching the home stretch. Paint is on the walls (color, even!), new carpet stretches across the vastness of the 3rd floor and my husband is anchoring bookshelves to the wall in his office this weekend.

Photos of the transformation will follow shortly, so stay tuned!

As you gather with your family and friends during this festive time, I wanted to take the opportunity to thank you all–family, friends and customers–who supported me through this year.

May you enter 2010 with warmth in your homes and hope in your hearts.

The eagle design consists of natural and dyed porcupine quills embroidered onto black deer skin.

Every week I begin with the intention of posting another blog entry and before I know it another week has passed. I’m not sure where the time goes, but I need to find an easier way to get my photos up and get posting. Any suggestions? The eternal struggle, I suppose, of intention versus time available.

Here are some more details on the custom knife sheath I embroidered with porcupine quills for a customer recently.

Proud recipient: Corrine in her regalia holding her new eagle knife sheath.

Corrine conceptualized the idea of the knife sheath. She bought the eagle head knife at a powwow last October and then moseyed over to my quillwork demonstration and inquired about a custom knife sheath to keep it safe. Corrine knew exactly what she wanted: the colors, the design, all in an effort to match her black and white regalia. I was intrigued by the new project.

Ready, set, cut! Stiff leather the shape of the knife act as the inner core of the sheath and keep it rigid.

Of course when I got home, the reality set in: I knew how to do porcupine quillwork, but I didn’t know the first thing about making a knife sheath. I consulted a friend who’s an ace at such things after years of trial and error. His Cliff Notes version of knife sheath construction sent me in the right direction.

Quilling the design onto leather. I started taping my fingers to save them from needle pricks. The tan object on my middle finger is a leather thimble from Alaska.

The sheath has 6 layers of leather in all. Two thick pieces of leather act as stiff cores, and then I sewed a layer of deerskin onto the front and back of each core with glover’s needles and waxed nylon thread.

After quilling the design onto the deerskin, I glued the leather to the stiff core so it didn't move while I stitched it.

The frontpiece of fringe and quillworking are one solid piece of leather. First I quilled the design in the middle. Next I sandwiched the thick core leather between the design piece and a deerskin backing and stitched. Hot glue and clamps held the piece in place while I stitched the pieces together.

Now I had a complete back and a complete front, but I still had to stitch those together to make a pocket for the knife. As I stitched the front and back of the knife sheath together, I added the white quillwork edging. Talk about multi-tasking! Pushing the needle through all the layers of leather was tough on my fingers, but wearing a thimble on every finger was clumsy so I started taping my fingers with waterproof tape, which gave me some amount of protection.

The knife sheath is sewn together. Now it's time for fringe. I eventually cut the "wings" off the leather so the top piece is essentially a rectangular.

Cutting the fring was my favorite part. It transformed the the project into a completed work. Or maybe it just reminded me of the fringed black suede keychain with silver roses I had in high school. I wonder where that got to. Maybe I’ll have to whip up a new one with the extra leather.

Ahhhh! I'm half fringed!

8: number of glover’s needles broken stitching knife sheath together

50 plus: number of porcupine quills used to make the designs on the sheath (eagle, zigzag,  cross and white edging)

20 plus: number of times I was sure I was going to cut the leather wrong and mess up the whole project.

7.5: square feet of black deerskin leather used to make the knife sheath

6: number of times I drew blood stabbing myself with a glover’s needle while sewing on the porcupine quills

1: number of times I stabbed myself in the leg with a glover’s needle because I was watching The Matrix instead of paying attention

23: minutes of cutting fringe

40: average temperature during the powwow last weekend where I delivered the custom knife sheath

1: very ecstactic customer

I am so excited to announce that I will be running the Horse Hair Earrings  Jewelry-Making Class at My Father’s Beads inn Coopersburg, PA!

Join me on November 1, 2009, from 1:30 to 4:30 as we create a stunning pair of earrings using horse hair, plus beads and baubles from My Father’s Beads. The class costs just $38 plus supplies and you can choose from a variety of earwires, beads, cones and charms to include in the earrings. To signup, go to My Father’s Beads Website or call the store at 610-282-6939.

I can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with. With a whole store full of beads to choose from, every pair of earrings will be completely different. This time, I have to take pictures. (I forgot last time).

Also coming up this weekend…I’ll be demosntrating quillwork at Wildlands Conservancy as part of Emmaus, Pennsylvania’s 250th anniversary celebration. Stop on by and say hi!

Full moon over Lake Champlain.

Goodnight, Island.

Goodnight, Moon.

My girl in braids watching the horses at Duck Harbor Pond.

Last week I slept in my bed exactly 2 times. Every other night was spent sleeping on the ground somewhere in Pennsylvania with my kids, husband, family and friends.

We packed 3 camping trips into a week and a half, and my kids still didn’t want to come home. That makes me smile. I’m glad they enjoy the outdoors as much as I do.

A few of those nights involved a trip down memory lane as the kids and I camped with my parents at a lake in Wayne County.

Our connection to this lake reaches way, way back. My mom vacationed there as a kid. When she had kids, she brought my brothers and me to the lake, as well. We refer to it as “going to the mountains.” My son is the first to question why we call it “the mountains.” He also wanted to know if there would be snow there. Not in July.

We do the normal stuff you do on an outdoor vacation…boating, fishing, hiking, hitting trees with sticks, playing lots of games (Traffic Jam, badminton and chase being the favorites right now), catching lightning bugs and picking flowers.

Of course the bugs love us, too. As I write this, a mosquito bite on my big toe is particularly itchy. And this time we had an unfortunate encounter with ants.

One other game we play is guessing how many deer we’ll see as we drive around each night looking for all manner of wildlife that may be moving about at dusk. This tradition started out many years ago as a way to scope out deer for the hunters in my family.

As we drove about the bucolic areas of Wayne County looking for deer and rabbits (we even saw an egret!), watching one farm melt into another, I realized the origins of my fascination with farms. Maybe this is why I long to live in a stone farmhouse or converted barn. This is where my admiration of stone fences came from. This is why I love horses and cows and sheep and all things animal.

The lake where we play is home to a bustling horse farm and a cow farm. As a kid, daily I walked down the dirt road to the horse farm to check on the foals. This is where I stole a pat on the head from a horse curious enough to come to the fence.

As I got older, I worked hard at home to earn money to buy a $13 trail ride from a another farm a car ride away. I scooped dog poop and painted, mowed grass and picked up sticks (awful job!), just so I had enough money to take a trail ride or two in the week we spent at the lake.

I still remember the day my mom got on a horse and proceeded to get right back off. She was NOT going to ride a horse. That farm still has horses, although the house we called “Little House on the Prairie” is gone, and it doesn’t seem they give trail rides anymore.

Too bad for my little budding horse lover.

Still, she watched the horses eat hay and waited for a passing pat last past week. As I watched my daughter wait patiently by the fence I saw myself in her. Not just in the braids and love for horses, but in my dreams. As I kid, I wanted to be a jockey and ice skater (just like Dorothy Hamill). Tall dreams for a short, fat little kid. My daughter says she wants to be a “horse rider” and ballet dance. Maybe not too far off for a tall, skinny kid…

P.S. Don’t forget you need to pre-register if you want to attend Sunday’s horse hair jewelry class at the Museum of Indian Culture. Click here for more details.