As an artist,  I am continually fascinated by and collecting supplies for new techniques expressing creativity. For years, I have painted, beaded, stitched, knitted and more. For the longest time, the one thing I admired, but never tried my hand at, was traditional rug hooking.

I love all things vintage and enjoyed seeing this art form displayed  on the walls of a cousin’s home.

I often watched a close friend as she hooked rug after rug. These “rugs” were displayed as table runners, chair  pads, stool covers, wall hangings and even coasters called “mug rugs”.

My artistic friend begged me to give it a try.  “No.” was always my response. Because  I had my own business and spent much of my day designing and painting products to sale, I felt I had no time to start anything new.

Even though I refused to attempt it, I was always eager to see her latest project and hear the story behind her original designs. As I fingered the stacks of wool that filled her work space and unrolled bundles of her handiwork, I gained a greater  appreciation for this art form.

Just before I moved away, she presented me with a kit, one of her favorite hooks and the strips of bright-dyed wool needed to complete one of her simple designs.  Giving it a couple of feeble attempts, I tucked it inside one of our moving boxes to revisit another day.

After a few months of living in our tiny apartment, I was starved for the company of other creative souls. An internet search revealed a rug show and guild meeting within walking distance from me.

The Hubs and I attended the rug show, chatted with the artists, and I received an invitation to join them for an upcoming class. From that first meeting, I was “hooked”. I immediately finished the two small Santa pieces in the kit, then joined not one, but two local guilds. I attend weekly hook-ins, workshops and guild meetings as often as my schedule and the weather allows. Because of the generous support I have received from these guild members, teachers, and long-time “hookers”, I have found a new passion. This past year, I was even able to teach a few projects of my own design.

There are many rug hooking chapters across the nation and I strongly urge you to see what they are all about.

Although many miles separate us, my sweet friend and I talk about our hooking projects now.  To honor her,  I wrote this in remembrance of our times together:



She holds out her petite hands. She shows me the fingers that time has marked.“Years of hooking rugs will do this.”

She is beautiful like the rugs that are piled high in her spare room. Her life a story of God’s love, His turning trial into triumph. Romans 8:28 is worked out before my eyes.

She tells me of her childhood, of growing up in the Alaskan village, of hardships that make one strong.

She, a beautiful soul of grace, loves God. I am blessed as we visit, inspired by her gentle faith-words, encouraged.

Her hands are rapid as she works the wool into art. These little strips that she has dipped into dyes yield to the hook and stand firmly in the linen’s weave.

I bend over, watch fascinated, try to learn. She passes the hook to me. Awkward in my grasp, I received instruction and draw in breath and hope and loop. Again, I test, try, pull  through, compare my work to hers. My rows show the wobbly uncertainty that I feel standing next to her practiced handiwork.

We talk over breakfast biscuits and jam. We share food and sweet fellowship.

I learn more of her story.

She draws out my hopes and dreams, concerns and news.

We sit, heads bowed close, and work on rugs. She works her faith and courage into my heart, like the rows into the hooped fabric.

It is time to go. We gather up the scraps of wool and friendship. I pack away the hook and the bits of wisdom that she gives me to take home and work into finished beauty. I hold her tightly in embrace, this sister God has given me.


I love the history of this art form. I try to make it a goal to learn from those before me and pass it on to those behind me. I think having that connection is so important and otherwise, so many skills and history will go away in time, if neglected.

As a novice, I am blessed to learn from ladies who have hooked for decades, several having generations of hookers to teach them. The oldest in our guild, still attending meetings, is a beautiful lady, 100 years old. How fortunate I am to glean tips and instruction from their experience and artistic skills.

I am dyeing wool, and working on my  design patterns and will have some kits available in the future.

I would love to hear your own stories. Are you a rug hooker, know someone that hooks rugs, have guild meetings or workshops nearby?  Looking for specific designs or wool?  Feel free to comment below or on my social media spots or email me directly.

Until next time,



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Shadow Play

I have always loved quilts, have grown up with them, in fact.  My youngest memories include piled stacks of quilts over cousins, asleep with a fan in our faces, us buried deep within their warmth and weight.  Cold winter nights included their cottony presence.

Picnics included an old quilt at a favorite campground and a good book.

A wedding quilt showcased my love for the horses of my youth, folded neatly.

My nursery included a tiny version, complete with animals embroidered lovingly, and another hung over the crib.

On a recent visit to my parents’ home, mom spread the quilts of our heritage across the bed and filled our arms and my suitcase with the treasures of our past.

So naturally, when we reached for our “What to do in Hawaii” guide, my hubs was the first to notice the quilt demo and classes the very first morning of our stay. He insisted that my girls, (meaning my crafty friends, new and old), would want to see this. So off we went after an amazing breakfast–dare I mention as a side note how amazing the pineapple boat was after a long walk there ?

I was surprised by the great number of fabric and quilt shops in this small area and the several gatherings of local guilds.

The tiniest of stitches were rhythmically pierced into delicate layers, while a lovely stitcher told us the history of her craft.

A beautifully made story quilt depicted the missionary’s wife teaching Polynesian wives to make the earliest of these works of art.

As she worked delicately around the curved lines of applique, she told us of early fabrics, reaching into her bag to pull out samples sleeved for protection.

Continuing to show her small group of fascinated onlookers,  she relayed the way native quilters sat under great trees and mimicked what they had been taught.

Leaves on the trees, along with branches and flowers cast great shadows upon the surfaces of their work.

The repeating designs of these quilts were a result of the play of sunlight and nature as they worked.  Symbols of the flora and sea provide endless patterns.

To mark our visit, Hubs purchased one of the pineapple pillow shams and a few fabric remnants as I flipped through stacks of pattern books.

Of course, I don’t know if I will ever attempt a quilt, but appreciating the graceful lines and curves, I have already incorporated some of the blocks into my current fiber art project, a wall design with highlight motifs of our trip.

I will always remember this experience and share it with the many quilters and artists that will appreciate the delicate work of Hawaii’s quilts.

Are you a quilter, fabric collector, or just a lover of vintage ? Feel free to share tips in the comments, email me or post on my Facebook page. We love to hear from you.



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Healthy Heartbeats

Heartbeats–heard, felt, taken for granted.

That day when life is amplified as a swooshing cadence, a rhythmic testament of being, existing, present. That is the sound of life, demanding to be heard. The confirming drum that proclaims there is life within.

That sound, those words, we all want to know, deep down, certain, that all is well.

But sometimes, it is not, all is not as we had hoped and dreamed.

I was recently confronted with reminders that sometimes little hearts have big problems. A close friend’s tiny grand needed surgery to repair hers. A young relative received a transplant. Both are doing well, each a miracle gift for which we are grateful.

February is my birth month, and also, the month my mom was born. We shared one body, two heartbeats. It is the month known for heart health.

My knitting projects right now are in shades of red. Red, for the life’s blood that flows, for hearts that beat, and for those whose hearts are less than perfect.

Go Red Knitting Video

There are so many free patterns available, ways to contribute, information about living a heart-healthy lifestyle.  Find ways to join me in raising heart health awareness.

In honor of little K, and Miss E, I have already started items to donate.  Many others who are dear to me suffer from heart disease. It is my hope to find ways to express my love to them in the weeks to come.

I have included some tips for infant hat making:

  • Avoid buttons, bows or any attachments that might be a choking hazard.
  • Machine washable yarn is a great choice for a new mom to launder hats.
  • Including an informative tag, listing size, laundry tips, etc. would be helpful.
  • Check out your favorite brands of yarn to see if they have shades of red available, patterns,  or even donations or discounts this month to complete projects to donate.

Some links you might enjoy are:







We’d love to hear from fellow knitters, crocheters, anyone and everyone! Tel us about your favorite patterns, your favorite yarn stores, places you gather to share you hobbies. Comment below, share our posts, visit our Facebook page, just keep in touch.




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