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| braided rug from tee-shirt hems |
Granddaughter Ava and I made this braided rug at Grammy Camp. Unlike the rugs my grandmother created from folded strips of old clothes, ours is made from the hems of tee-shirts. You see, we were making diapers for Honduras at church one afternoon. We cut off the hems from all the shirts and they were going into the trash until it came to me how we might use them to make a rug. I tried looping one randomly colored hem into the next, pulled tightly, making a knot and then we braided three strips into one long length. The final step will be to sew that long braid flat and into an oval using the zigzag stitch on the sewing machine. I could hand sew the braid, of course, but that would take too much time from playing with Ava.
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| Loop one circular tee-shirt hem into another, pull tight and make a knot |
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The following Goodbye Lie excerpt was inspired by my Grammy:
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| Miss Ella |
Miss Ella shook her head at her sometimes
moody, but very wonderful husband, thinking how lucky she was to have him. Back
inside the aromatic kitchen, she checked the steeping jelly kettle of peaches,
stirred the pot of salt pork and bean soup, and cleared a spot for the hot
cornbread among the fresh radishes and onions. It had been such a peaceful
afternoon. Too peaceful, she realized.
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| Grammy |
Where was Jack Patrick? Her only son, age
eight, was usually so noisy, she knew his whereabouts every minute. She left the
kitchen, went down the long hall past the stairs, and entered the front parlor
to find her mother, Hettie Eckert, known to all as Grammy. Grammy was swaying
in her rocker, intently working on a braided rag rug, and there was Jack
Patrick, sneaking up from behind, scissors in hand, about to cut the soft
wild-hair wispies from his sainted grandmother's head.
"Jack Patrick!" yelped
his mother.
Calmly placing the shears back in the
sewing basket, he stated, "Mama, I hope lightning flies through the window
and kills the cat. I'm innocent!"
She knew exactly how innocent he was. She
allowed the boy to dash out the front door before he caught her laughing. Fortunately, since Grammy's hearing was
not quite as keen as it once was, she was oblivious to her grandson's near
attack, figuring only that his mother was yet again reprimanding the boy for his
usual mischief.
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| Breelan |
Leaning against the wall, Miss Ella
thought back to yesterday, remembering her middle daughter, eighteen-year-old
Breelan, as she’d mimicked Grammy in the construction of her own rug. Over the
last few weeks, Breelan had torn three-inch strips of cloth, folded their
frayed edges inward and sewn the long thin tails, one to another. She had
arrived at the final step of braiding and stitching the tails into a flat oval
rug, when her mother had overheard her say, "This will be my scrap mine of
colorful memories. I've made it from the worn dresses and torn trousers we've
saved, Gram, just like you taught me. When I have my little girl, I want you to
show her how to make your rugs, same as you've shown me."
Miss Ella hoped her mother would still be
around in the time it took Breelan to have a child old enough to learn the art
of rug making. And interestingly enough, Breelan seemed certain her child would
be a girl.
"Whenever I look at my rug, I'll
think of this pretty dress." Breelan pointed to the tail made from green
plaid taffeta. "I couldn't wait for Carolena to outgrow it so it would be
mine. Its lace petticoat was edged in red satin ribbon. I'll tell you a secret,
if you promise not to tell Mama."
"I promise, honey," Grammy had
conspired...
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Miss Ella, Grammy and Breelan are featured characters in The Goodbye Lie, set in 1882 on Amelia Island, Florida.
To order e-books or paperbacks in the trilogy, please click here:
amazon.com/author/janemariemalcolm
