Project 44: The Nightgown Challenge

I like my future mother-in-law a lot. We've forged a strong relationship over the years and I genuinely look forward to visiting her in Victoria.

A few years ago, I introduced her to Deva Lifewear when I bought her some new nightgowns for Christmas. She loved them, and has worn them basically out. At our last visit she asked me if I would help her order some more online. When I did, we found out that after many years the company has closed up shop.

Being the intrepid seamster that I am, I decided that I would use Garment Designer to make a pattern by measuring the existing garments. It was a bit of a challenge figuring out how to start with one of the basic templates in the software and move specific points to match what I was measuring on the garment, but I got it in the end.

Then, we took a very fun excursion to Gala Fabrics in downtown Victoria. They have a very nice selection in general, and she didn't have any trouble finding some cotton flannelette that she liked.

Back at the sewing table, I printed out the pattern and decided that the sleeve caps looked too tall. The taller the sleeve caps, the more steeply the sleeves will slope downward from the shoulder. A shorter sleeve cap makes the sleeves go out straighter from the shoulder. I'm not completely convinced that I went far enough with that adjustment, but we'll see in two weeks when we go back over.

In construction, I made two mistakes. First, when I constructed the collar, I turned it and topstitched it before attaching it to the neck, and I realized that if I had left it wrong side out I could have adjusted the seam at the end to match the neck more perfectly. Secondly, when I built the gauntlet opening in the front, I tried to use the fabric edge as a sewing guide instead of marking the rectangle like I would on a welt pocket opening. The result is OK, but the junction of the inside and outside pieces at the bottom has a small gap.

If she likes it, I'll make her a couple more and I think I'll be able to address my two construction errors and produce very close to professional level garments.

Maureen's Letter

This is the story I premiered at a concert last night in Seattle. The song described will be on my next CD, which will only be made when my first CD is sold out. Hint. Hint.

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When I started learning Scottish Gaelic and our society, Slighe nan Gaidheal, was just a glimmer in our eyes, our teacher, Richard Hill, encouraged us to get on up the road and attend events at the Vancouver Gaelic society to meet and learn from the community of Scottish expats there, many of whom were native speakers.

I did so along with my classmates, and got something out of it I wasn’t expecting. I was already giddy with excitement at having started to learn this language and music which I had been looking for since I was a child, and with the beginnings of a community of people here in Seattle that were just as excited about it. Through the friendships we made in Vancouver, though, we discovered that we were connected to something that spans the globe and the centuries. I found a culture in which because I play the harp and sing, and was studying Gaelic I was automatically valued.

My first teacher, Richard Hill and Maureen circa 1996.

My first native speaker teacher was a woman from the Isle of Lewis called Maureen Lyon. Maureen was a high school teacher in her working years, and was a driving force in organizing events at the Vancouver society. She has an easy laugh, a bright spirit, and is a woman who gets things done. The more times I made it up North to study Gaelic with her, the more I felt like we were becoming real friends.

At that time, I was single and had been for most of my adult life, so the fact that I was Gay was pretty theoretical. That was, until I had a short affair that happened to coincide with Mòd Vancouver 1999. His name was Glen, and he has sadly since passed from this world –may his spirit find peace– and I brought him along. People noticed, and my deep-seated insecurities surfaced. These folks were mostly from the previous generation or the one before that and I don’t know if you know anything about the Isle of Lewis, but the Free Church of Scotland is a big part of island life and their outlook on many subjects is black and white. I became worried that my friendship with Maureen and the others would evaporate if they knew.

In true Gaelic fashion, somebody told Maureen that I was worried. The next time I was up in BC for a weekend I got a call from Maureen on Sunday morning as I was packing up to drive home. “Stop by the house. I have something for you.” Seemed perfectly normal. Probably a tape (we still used tapes then) or book or song or something.

Maureen lives in White Rock, right on the border. I drove into her drive way and got out of the car, but then something strange happened. She came out of her front door and closed it behind her. She had an envelope in her hand. I walked up and greeted her. She handed me the envelope and wished me a safe drive home, then went inside and closed the door. If you know anything about Highland culture, you know that is exceedingly strange. No tea?

I went back to the car and then the metaphorical bucket of ice water went down my back. This was a letter telling me to take my abominably sinful lifestyle choices home with me and never come back.

When I got in line at the border, my hands were shaking as I opened the envelope. Inside was a half sheet of paper with a poem in the format of a letter. It began “a Sheumais Chòir,” – Dear Seumas. I won’t translate the whole thing because it would sound like I was praising myself and that’s simply not done. Suffice to say that she gave me a long list of all the things she likes about me told me that she would never want me to be heavy in mind, but full of light for my whole life and true to myself always. She signed it “le gaol agus tuigse” – with love and understanding – “do dhéagh charaid” - your good friend, Maureen. It’s one of my most prized possessions.

Last year, as I was thinking about putting together material for another CD, I glanced at it up on the wall and wondered why I had never done anything with it. It’s kind of short for a song, I thought, and then it dawned on me. I would write a reply, and so I did.

My reply begins “a Mhaureen Chòir” – Dear Maureen. Your enduring faithful friendship is more valuable to me than I can tell and I want you to know how important that poem was to me that you wrote twenty years ago. It’s in my mind and heart still encouraging me every day. – And I close my reply with “le gaol agus cuimhne” - with love and memory. “do charaid gu bràth” - your friend forever, Seumas.

The song I made from these two verses is titled “Gaol agus Tuigse” – Love and Understanding and will be on my next CD. As soon as my first CD is sold out. Hint. Godsdamn Hint.

Just to prove this a true story.

Project 43: Work Shirts

Doug asked me to make him some shirts to wear at work, where he provides direct assistance to disabled people. He wanted something comfortable and casual, but a little more tailored than a t-shirt. He really enjoys wearing the aloha shirt I made him, so I went back to that pattern as a starting point.

An aloha shirt, by definition, is made out of a statement fabric. This (these) shirts, however, were to be made out of simple, solid-colour broadcloth. There are two features of the aloha shirt pattern that I think are themselves a little too plain to be executed in a plain fabric.

First, the collar. An aloha shirt usually has a rolled collar, which consists of one part, with lapels forming from the points of the neck opening rolling back. (see here, here, and here) In a plain fabric, I wanted a stand collar, which is what you typically see on a mens dress shirt.

Second, the back. The simple aloha shirt design has a one-piece back which looks just great in a Hawaiian print, but in plan broadcloth looks more like surgical scrubs than a tailored shirt. Although the original pattern didn't include one, I drafted the pieces for a two-layer yoke with a box pleat, again like you're used to seeing in a mens dress shirt.

Construction went really well. I think it looks pretty darn close to RTW. (ready to wear - store bought). Once I have the official sign-off, I'll go into production mode and churn out a half dozen of them. Don't worry though, Dear Reader. I won't bore you with blog posts about each one.

Diversity on the Dance Floor

My teacher, Susan. Taken during one
of the tunes I didn't know.

I have been casually learning to play fiddle for about twenty years now, and after my diagnosis of diabetes in December 2013, I decided I was really going to get serious about it. I officially signed up to be a student of Susan McCroskey Burke, whom I have known for many years. She encouraged me to join her student performance group, called Fiddler's Green.

I've been attending their practice sessions for a few months now, and last night I performed with them for the first time. We played for a Valentine's Day contra dance. It was a lovely hall out in Kirkland and it was nicely decorated with hearts and flowers. I only knew about half of the dance tunes that we played, so I spent lots of time with my fiddle in my lap trying to look more comfortable than I felt, but all in all it was a good experience.

The caller was absolutely brilliant. I took some serious note of how she managed the dance floor for the next time I have to do that job.

One of the things I liked best about the evening was the diversity on the dance floor. Ancestry from several different continents was in evidence. There was one young woman wearing an insulin pump at her waist and she was a very strong dancer. There was also a broad range of ages present.

Two of the best male dancers looked like they were in their twenties. One had long hair in a ponytail and the other was wearing an insufferably adorable porkpie hat. At one point in the second half of the evening someone zigged when they were supposed to have zagged and Ponytail and Porkpie wound up dancing together. Neither of them missed a beat. Other than a moment of surprise it was a non-event. Then, having switched lines, Ponytail proceeded to dance with most of the rest of the men as well.

The last dance was a waltz, and people changed partners several times. At one point, Porkpie made a point of waltzing with Ponytail. They were beautiful together.

A Family of One

Back before I met Doug​, I struggled with being single. I remember my 30th birthday in 1996 very clearly. My friends and bandmates threw me a lovely party, but I had never been in love with a man who was in love with me and I felt that made me a failure as a human being. Surely I was a warty horror that no man could ever love.

Warty horror circa 2000CE.

Time went on, and I did eventually have a stormy nine month relationship with a very nice and completely ill-matched man. It came to a crashing end on Winter Solstice in 1998, but no matter how painful that experience was, I'm still grateful to it and to him for all that I learned.

When I moved to Baile Ard​ in 1999, I decided that I was going to change my life; that I wouldn't wait to have a husband before making a home and being a family. I would be a family of one. Each time I worked on the place, cooked for myself, decorated for a holiday, or entertained friends I became happier. I had my friends, my band, my family, my coven, my Gaelic society, my job, my health, and a home I loved. What earthly reason did I have to be unhappy?

I became unreservedly content, joyous, and satisfied as a single man. Maybe being authentically happy is what changed my luck in love. Only the gods really know, but I can tell you that even if I had remained single I would still be a family of one with a very rich and fulfilling home life.

If you're struggling with being single, lay down that burden and make yourself a home and a life that you love. You don't need anyone's approval or permission to do so but your own.

With love,
Seumas

Project 42: Seahawks Jester Hat and Gauntlets

One of my co-workers at my day job, Justin, is big fan of the Seattle Seahawks. They won the Superbowl last year, and may possibly play in it again this year. Even for a non-sports person like me, it's a little exciting.

Several months ago, Justin asked me if I could make him a jester's hat in the Seahawks' team colours with a logo on the front. I was a resistant to the idea initially. Millinery is it's own field of endeavor for a very good reason. He said he had one he liked that I could use as a pattern, so I agreed to look at it.

I added the widow's peak in front. It looks very fierce.

Hemming the thumb opening forced
me to resort to fabric glue. Boo.

It turned out to be very simply constructed. It consisted of a head band with ear flaps seamed at the back which was attached to a simple three lobed top which was just a front and back side stitched together. I accepted the challenge.

Justin was unable to find a source for just the logo patch, so he bought a baseball cap that had one he liked on it and I had to figure out how to deconstruct the hat to get the logo without destroying it. Once I took a pair of scissors to it, I found I could remove all the surrounding baseball hat material and peel the patch off pretty easily.

I measured the model hat and used my Dritz Styling Design Ruler to create a pattern with symmetrical, attractive curves.

My usual haunt, Pacific Fabrics, had an entire display up front in their store of all their produce in Seahawks colours, which are lime green and navy blue. I picked up some blue fleece and green velveteen and off I went.

Super fan!

Construction was dead easy; nothing too it other than tolerating the ungodly amount of fluff that the velveteen exuded from its cut edges. I was never so glad that I bought a Babylock Imagine serger! By the end of the project I was in a rush to get all the cut edges of the velveteen serged closed while I could still see my carpet! I kid, I kid.

In addition to the logo patch that I harvested from the baseball cap, Justin purchased two commemorative patches from the Seahawks' Superbowl victory that he wanted attached to the earflaps on the hat, but I just couldn't do it. They were too big for the available space and I was afraid they would ruin the look. I felt bad just saying 'no' to something he wanted, so put my thinking cap on and came up with the idea of gauntlets. I could make elbow length gauntlets and attach a championship patch to each one.

And he's single, ladies!

I had enough fabric left over, so I quickly made a pattern from my own forearm, then added some room for his considerably more beefy ones! I thought I would show them to him before attaching the patches to make sure he liked the idea. He loved the gauntlets, but wants to wait on patches until the next Superbowl, just incase he could have one patch from each victory on each arm.

I told him that if any of his friends wanted copies of the hat, that I would make them for $25 plus materials. Bespoke team wear isn't cheap, and Taigh Sheumais Fashions has to put bread on the table too.

House Protection

This is the fourth and last of the enchantments that I designed for my House Blessing / Spell Casting party when I moved to Baile Ard in 1999. See Spell To Attract A Cool Boyfriend for more details on the event.

This business of being a Witch is a funny thing. On one hand, you must have absolute confidence in the truth of your words; so much so that the deepest part of you, where you are connected to the fluid underpinnings of reality will respond and make things as you say they are. On the other, you must have an absolute and unflinching dedication to the truth and that means looking honestly at your failures, taking your lumps, and learning from them.

This spell was an utter failure. Harm, grief, and sorrow were regular visitors to Baile Ard. That's where I woke up on the day that I endured the most sorrowful experience of my life so-far: the death of my Mother.

So, I don't offer this as a good example of protective magic. I offer this rather as a quaint remembrance of a time when I thought a safe home and a well-protected life were much simpler things to achieve.

House Protection 

Take a handful of salt from the kitchen and proceed to sprinkle it on the front or back doorsill while repeating the following charm: 

I cast this salt upon the ground and by this act my spell is bound.Keep out all harm, grief, and sorrow on each today and each tomorrow! I mean this for this sill and door and throughout this house forever more! Heed this charm! Cause no harm! So mote it be!

I have since devised a new domestic ward spell which is far, far more demanding to cast and so-far, more effective.

Kitchen Witchery

This is the third of the four enchantments that I designed for my House Blessing / Spell Casting party when I moved to Baile Ard in 1999. See Spell To Attract A Cool Boyfriend for more details on the event.

My relationship with cooking fundamentally changed while I lived in Baile Ard. I had never been particularly enthusiastic about it, but there was something about the combination of having a place I was proud to invite people, having a kitchen that was open to the living area, and a decision I made not long after moving there that changed everything.

The decision was that I was not going to wait to have a man in my life before making a home. I was going to be a family of one, if that was my fate, and that included homemaking, home cooking, decorating for holidays, and entertaining.

I started off by delving back into my childhood memories of cooking Japanese food with my godmother, Kimiko Sakai, and with her mother-in-law, Botchan-san. I was still vegetarian at that time, but managed to pull together a couple six-course Japanese dinners. I don't know if my guests stopped for burgers on the way home or not, but we had a laugh anyway.

The epitome of my culinary adventures was the Winter Solstice Banquet, which I and my friend Pandora started as a collaboration. There's a little more about that in this post: Happy 10th Ballardiversary!

This transformation of ingredients into food was a new form of magic for me, but the spell that was cast by so many friends that night which led to my embrace of it was classic Seumascraft:

Kitchen Witchery

Take your favorite of the cooking implements from the kitchen and go back and forth between there and the dining table waving the implement and intoning the following:

By wooden spoon and crescent Moon
By spice mill, sieve and knife
By spinach, potato and garlic clove
All foods that nourish life,
All meals and snacks and feasts herein
with any tool employed,
Shall be full-well nutritional,
un-fattening, and enjoyed!
Heed this charm!
Cause no harm!
So mote it be!