beware the hulder

I have been shoddy.  No surprise there right?  Aaaaaages ago the lovely Laura from Dropstitch sent me this gocco print in thanks for uploading her some English instructions.

“These mountain trolls I have been telling you about sometimes marry, but very seldom because there are only a few troll women.  They are the most horrible, ugly old women, like witches, but they know a great deal of magic and are, therefore, very powerful.  However, as they very rarely appear, it is not at all likely that you will ever meet one of these old troll witches.  But it is quite likely that you may one day come across one of their daughters, who are called hulders.  Walking through a clearing in the woods where some cattle are grazing on a summer’s evening, you may see a very beautiful young girl; so beautiful that you will stop to gaze at her.  She may be a hulder.  If she is, beware, for you must not talk to her, for anyone who says a single word to a hulder immediately becomes her captive.  Young shepherds were often so entranced by the beauty of one of these young girls that they would long to walk through the woods with her and talk to her and hold her hand; but if you wish to remain free you must remain absolutely silent.  This was often very difficult for the poor shepherd boys because the hulders appeared to be so really sweet and lovely and promised the shepherds mountains of silver and gold.  If, under this temptation, the shepherd broke his silence, he was forced to follow his enchantress into her mountain home, and the moment she got there she changed into her real self – and oh, how hideous she really was!  Now I’ll tell you a secret, there is one way by which you can always discover a hulder: if you walk behind her you will find that she has a tail – a cow’s tail – and this she simply cannot get rid of or hide!”

From ‘Norwegian Fairy Tales’ by Gert Strindberg

Laura works wonders with a gocco, much more than I’m able to and she’s one of the most generous and enthusiastic bloggers out there.  She hasn’t even mentioned how long it’s taken me (and it is a stupidly long time) to publicly thank her for this print that is now hanging happily on my living room wall next to a picture of a mournful dog.  Thank you very much Miss Donald x

the grand unveiling

I know it’s no excuse but I’ve been up to my neck in GCSE marking over the last few weeks and descriptive essays on bus, car, train and plane journeys have been floating around, clouding my poor little brain and leaving not a lot of time for anything else.  Before the exam madness began though, I got the chance to go to my mum’s, bundle in hand, and finish this,

That’s a year’s worth of hand stitching and two day’s of sitting in the back garden getting a trucker’s tan and very sore fingers you can see right there. 

The quilt 99% hand stitched.  We got lazy when it came to attaching the patchwork to the batting and the backing.  I got even lazier and let my mum do the machine sewing whilst I ’steadied’ the rest of the quilt as she rammed the edges through the sewing machine.

We always been a pretty arts and crafts family.  My gran was a dress-making teacher at her local college and my mum always made our clothes for us when we were younger.  From a very early age we were steered away from TV and given more creative things to do with our time and that’s one of the reasons why I’m willing to try pretty much anything when it comes to arty things.  Generally it doesn’t even phase me if something goes wrong, it’s always been the creating that’s been the most important part of the process.

And this quilt way great for getting to know my mum even better.  We spent the whole two days we were doing this talking and just being with each other, something we don’t get to do that often.  She’s a much more methodical crafter that I am, she knows about laying the groundwork and prepping your fabric and that’s why the quilt has turned out so perfectly.  Had I been on my own I would have ended up with something fit for the dog’s basket and I don’t even have a dog.

The back of the quilt is covered in tiny buttons at regular intervals.  I am sure that this has a proper name and there’s a proper way to do it but essentially all I did was sit with it on my lap and sew through were it felt right. 

I said when I found this quilt that it was going to be so full of stories it’ll overflow and we’ve certainly sewn quite a few in there already.  Now I’m starting to have slightly grow-up thoughts about the children I’ll one day pass it on to.  And if anyone in North Yorkshire knows someone who started a quilt twenty years ago and sold the beginings for £2 at a car boot sale last year, let her know it’s finished now will you? x