The Writing
The writing is catching up with me. I have three chapters of my next book due on Friday and I'm still working  on revisions to the book I finished this spring. However, I do have a title for that book--Cowgirl in High Heels. I love it! I think the cover will be really fun. Anyway, sewing is slowing down because the writing is heating up. After the 27th of May, I can really cut loose on the old Kenmore.

The Sewing

Since the sewing is on hiatus and I'm still shortening my orange coat, I'm posting one of the dresses I made last spring--McCalls 6557. I liked the dress so much I made it twice. The first time I copied the cover look from the pattern, making it out of black and white polka dot cotton with a red crepe waistband--only my dots are much larger. I've never learned to look at that little scale ruler on the fabric photos when I order on line. Good thing I like large dots.

The second dress is shorter and I made it out of a lovely green and turquoise sheer fabric that is really tough. It doesn't snag or run. I lined it with turquoise cotton and whenever I wear it, people stop me to comment. The colors are happy colors.

The Art Shots
This blog post actually came about because I ordered a crinoline and my husband took some artsy shots of it with the polka dot dress. So here it is, in color and black and white.

Sewing and Writing Off the Grid

My husband and I live off the grid, meaning that we generate our own power. We're only two miles from the nearest power lines, but the cost of bringing electricity in is a cool $500,000. That will buy a lot of generators. My house is modern in every way, except for that continual power thing.

Driveway

We've lived this way for twenty years and soon I hope to (finally) invest in solar. In the meantime, we turn the generator on first thing in the morning, run it until around noon, then turn it off for a few hours. We turn it back on again around 4 pm and run it until 9 or 10. When we go to bed, the power goes off. There are benefits to this way of life. When the power is off, a peaceful silence settles over the house. I read a lot more. My kids grew up reading and playing in the creek. Everyone in the family is quite talented at getting around in the dark.

The biggest adjustment for me when we moved to this place was not

Backyard

being able to sew whenever I wanted. I have to schedule it for when the power is on. I also have to schedule laundry, hair drying, baking, ironing, vacuuming (I rarely schedule that), etc, so the power hours can be jam packed—especially since it’s the only time I can watch TV. That means something has to go by the wayside if I want to sew. Usually it’s housework.

When the power is off, I cut out patterns, sew by hand and plan my next projects—writing and sewing. I also write, thanks to a laptop with a multi-hour battery. When the power is on, I sew and recharge both my brain and the computer battery, so that I can write some more when the power goes off.

Living off the grid isn’t for sissies. Generators break down. They need servicing. They develop mystery problems.  Once it was so cold I had to jump  start my house using our truck and jumper cables. I'm afraid of jumper cables, so this was a trial.  Also, I want to sew whenever I get the urge--a seam here, a dart there--but I can’t. When I feel like whining, though, I think of the women who sewed for centuries without benefit of electricity or a sewing machine.

This story has a happy ending, though. My son recently bought me the most beautiful treadle sewing machine. I haven’t used it yet—I’m waiting for summer break and a slightly less jam-packed schedule—but I can’t wait to be able to sew whenever I want. Who needs zigzag?

Pantone Contest Shift

The Sewing

I finished my Pantone Color Contest entry two days early! Unheard of--just ask my editor. I did that so that I had time to figure out how to review the patterns and make an entry in the contest, which is held at Sewing Pattern Review. I figured it out and this is my entry photo. Upon seeing it, my first thought was Yowza--I have to shorten that coat. It never occurred to me that I might have to shorted a 1966 pattern until I saw it with the shift. So...I'll be shortening the coat before I post its photos.

On to the shift. I decided to use McCalls 5799, the lines of which
complimented the style of the coat. I found a pale yellow crepe at Jo-Ann's to underline the sheer lemon chiffon I bought at Britex. I so love this chiffon. It's not nearly as pretty in the photos as it is in person.




I was afraid that sewing sheer fabric was going to be a nightmare, but it wasn't. I referenced the November 2006 Threads Magazine 127 (on sale here for only $3.50) and followed the techniques for seaming and hemming a sheer fabric.

To cut the fabric I placed a layer of tissue paper on the floor and laid out the fabric as a single layer. The tissue paper kept the fabric from shifting as I cut one pattern piece at a time, matching the design. I like the way the waves match up the back seams.

To make the seams, I sewed once along the seam line and then again 1/8 inch away, trimming close to the second stitching.

To hem, I sewed 1/8 inch from the raw edge, then turned it twice and stitched. Both finishes came out well.

I understitched all the edges to keep the lining from rolling out and showing.

I didn't want to mess with a zipper in chiffon/crepe for fear of waves, so I simply sewed the back center seam up to within 6 5/8 inches of the neckline and then added a button and loop closure. I'm pleased to say that I actually tried on the shift before lining it and yes, I could get into it with only a 6 inch opening. So glad I didn't pull my usual stunt of finishing the garment and then discovering the opening is too small.

And finally, I didn't line the shift in the usual way, with wrong sides of the fabrics together. The seams of the lining would have shown through, so I put the wrong side of the chiffon against the right side of the lining and finished all the lining seams with chiffon fabric to clean up the inside a bit.

And that's the end of this shifty business.

40s Suit Hits the Road

The Traveling

The pictures tell a story. My husband and I weren't trying to tell a story during this particular photo session, which was all about the suit, but it happened and reminded me of how many of my stories form.

Pictures 1 and 2--Once upon a time people could wait for buses in the middle of nowhere instead of actually traveling to the bus stop. I can imagine a woman heading off to the city from her ranch. Why? Perhaps she needs to find work. Perhaps she has offical business to attend to or she's going to stay with a relative. My woman would probably be going to Reno. The highway I'm on is a very old highway, so there may well have been people waiting for a bus on it in the 1940s.

Picture 3--For some reason my woman has abandoned the highway. If I were writing this story, I'd probably start at this scene and try to figure out what happened on the highway. The highway incident (whatever that had been) would be fed in as the scene progressed.

Picture 4--The sun is going down and it's time to make a decision. This would be a turning point that would propel the rest of the story. The call to adventure, if you will.

That's how my writing process works. I see a scene. I wonder how my character got into the place he or she is in, then I throw in a disaster and the real story begins.

Once A Champion Review

The Writing

The review for Once a Champion is now available in the June edition of RT Book Reviews: 

ONCE A CHAMPION
by Jeannie Watt

RT Rating

ONCE A CHAMPION (4) by Jeannie Watt: Physical therapist Liv Bailey is surprised when calf roper Matt Montoya arrives at her family’s ranch, looking for the horse his ex-wife sold while he was away. She can’t deny she still finds him as attractive as she did in high school, when she tutored him. But Matt’s unwilling to accept the fact that a knee injury means he’ll likely never rope competitively again, and Liv isn't sure she can have another relationship after breaking things off with a controlling ex-fiancé. Watt brings her complex, wonderful characters to life. Both Matt and Liv are likable and warm, in spite of Liv’s insecurities and Matt’s reluctance to realize he can no longer compete in rodeos.

Reviewed By: Alexandra Kay

This encourages me to soldier on with the revisions for my next book, which has yet to be assigned a title. For now it’s called Ryan’s Story. 

Titling a book is a joint effort. I send in to my editor a list of 15 to 20 possible titles.  Those titles are reviewed and used as a brainstorming springboard by several  editors and then the final title is assigned. 

My first book, A Difficult Woman, retained its working title, but that never happened again—probably because I tend to call my working manuscripts things like “Ryan’s Story”. The next book I’m contracted to write is called “Shae’s story.”   Speaking of which, the first three chapters of Shae’s Story are due mid-May, so I need to get cracking on those. Shae is the bridezilla in Once a Champion and now I have to redeem her. I think it'll be fun turning a self-centered bridezilla into a sympathetic character.  I do love a challenging character arc.

30s Dress Goes to the Pub

There are a lot of pluses to having a husband who's a photographer. Granted, sometimes he has to pry me away my sewing and/or writing to be photographed, but that's usually because I'm in the process of being beat up...I mean challenged...by a sewing project or story scene. This was one of my favorite photo sessions ever. What's more, he wants me to make more vintage clothes for vintage photo shoots. Yay!

Return of the Bound Buttonhole

I am not a coat-making novice. I enjoy making coats and jackets and last year I tailored two wool frock coats for the Great Dicken's Fair in San Francisco.

Neither of these frock coats (one is hanging in the background) had bound buttonholes. The directions did fantasize about me hand binding slashed buttonholes, but I ignored that part...just as I considered ignoring the buttonhole directions for my 60s coat, once I found out about them.

I'm notorious for forgetting to buy at least one key component of my current project, so last weekend I carefully read the directions before starting my coat. In step 5, I was startled to discover instructions for making seven--count them, seven--bound buttonholes. Oh, happy day.

Again I was tempted by my 1955 Singer buttonholer, but the reason I'm sewing retro is to learn and practice new techniques, so even though I was smacked around by a bound buttonhole while making the Sew for Victory jacket, I decided that I needed to suck it up and try again.

I followed the pattern directions--I was pleased that this pattern actually gave directions, unlike the 40s jacket which tersely commanded "Make bound buttonholes"--and made a practice buttonhole. It came out cute as a, well, button. Perfect.

But I'd fallen for this before--being lulled into a sense of false security by a perfect practice buttonhole--so I made a second.

Scary little dude, eh? Let me explain that I made a couple errors on this one (no kidding--right?) I wasn't as careful with my grain lines, but the big mistake was that I didn't tie off the thread ends by hand on the back. Instead I back stitched, and the stitching on the scary side started to come undone. No more back stitching.

Fraying was also a problem with this silk linen fabric.

And when I tried to stitch the little triangle to the welt ends, there was no triangle. It had frayed away.

To deal with the fraying, I reinforced both the welt strips and buttonhole area on the coat front with knit fusible interfacing. It was light enough not to add bulk to the narrow welts, but kept the fraying to a minimum. I had a triangle to stitch!

I marked the buttonhole placement with thread as the pattern said to do.

 The fabric strips for the welts are very narrow:

To make certain that my grain lines were perfect, I carefully placed the strips and then taped them into place instead of pinning or basting. The tape worked excellently.

I drew the stitching line on the welts--which were only 1/4 inch wide when folded--then  tied off the thread ends on the back (three knots and snipped 1/8 from the knot). I can thank the scary second practice buttonhole for this grain-line/thread-end vigilance, so as frighteningly as it turned out, it was worthwhile.

By employing a great deal of sweat and anxiety, I ended up with seven nearly perfect bound buttonholes, four of which are shown above prior to being sewn shut. They're very delicate looking and I'm quite pleased.

The big lessons:
1) Never give up, never surrender.
2) Make more than one practice buttonhole, just in case.
3) Don't hurry.
4) Experiment with tape.
5) Don't turn your back on the cat.