Wowza the seasons sure have changed quickly at the Quiltunes headquarters! The days are short and the mornings are extra dark. The furnace is running, the duvet is on the bed and the sandals have been swapped for boots. The leaves are showing off a riot of beautiful colors, which unfortunately in my neighborhood, also coincides with the relentless drone of leaf blowers. (Don’t get me started on when society started to demonize leaves!) I have spent my whole life living in places with four distinct seasons and realize just how much each one affects me differently. And even more so as I age — I am much more attuned to seasonality than I used to be. As the season transitions to winter, I realize that I too am changing and preparing for the cold, dark months ahead.
One of the bigger winter adjustments where I currently reside is the lack of light. This is the furthermost north I have ever lived and there is a distinct difference in the amount of daylight — both in the summer and the winter. So in preparation and because I always appreciate a healthy dose of Scandinavian wisdom, I recently read My Hygge Home by Meik Wiking. For those unfamiliar with hygge (pronounced HOO-gah), it is the Danish concept that roughly translates to coziness, which is a very simplistic definition. Hygge is so important to the Danish people that it is enshrined as one of their core national values, alongside tolerance and social welfare. (Side note: gotta love the Danes!) It is not just slippers, candles and warm blankets; it is embracing seasonality and nature, simplicity, comfort and contentment. One tenet that I really appreciate is that living a hygge life is also about embracing frugality and making the best use of what you have. Hygge is about taking care of your belongings, mending and extending the life of things through reuse. Meik writes that hygge is not about consumption and so the notion that it is being used to market consumer products is hypocritical. Although in the past, I have turned to lessons on hygge to help with home design, I am now more in thrall with the ethical and practical values that hygge offers. I am more interested in how it can be applied in practice to revel in a simplified life.
Another of my seasonal struggles in the winter is the rampant consumerism surrounding Christmas. For years I have been challenged by the inundation of material goods that begins now well before Halloween. Call me a curmudgeon but I am so frustrated by the constant messaging that in order to show love, you must buy things (often disposable, rarely memorable) in abundance. There is a lot of stress surrounding the holidays that really just sucks all of the spirit out of it for me. So to learn about different approaches to giving, and to know that entire cultures exist where my nonmaterialistic sentiments are the norm, makes me feel like less of an outlier.
My latest project is a quilt made entirely out of Pendleton wool remnants to outfit our camper. Although I can proudly say that I have camped in a tent, on the ground in every single month of the year, having a camper really allows you to extend the camping season in true comfort. This new blanket will come in handy as we take several annual trips out to the Coast when the weather is not pristine. We joke that we visit when the weather is “extra coastal”. Our camping lifestyle requires something both warm and durable and these Pendleton scraps are perfect for the task. The Pendleton Mill store in Milwaukie, Oregon sells the leftovers of their fabrics by the pound. Just think of all the amazing, useful objects crafted from high quality scraps that could have wound up in a landfill. Kudos to Pendleton for recognizing that these fabrics have a future and selling what less eco-friendly companies would toss. And at a very reasonable price, I might add. For this design, due to the thickness of the fabrics and the subsequent seams once sewn together, I utilized the fabrics as stripes to create a sort of log cabin style design, built from the center outward. Many of the long pieces are the end cuts of blankets. The majority of the fabrics remain in their original size and I love the way that the plaids, herringbone and Indigenous designs came together overall. Who says you shouldn’t mix such patterns? Obviously, not me.
Our new forever quilt is made entirely out of the leftovers. The backing is a mix of mostly shirt weight Pendleton wool fabrics (also from the remnant bin) that I pieced together. The center “batting” is a cotton sheet that was no longer in use. This quilt is HEAVY and so there was some consternation and debate on how to actually finish/quilt it. There was one brave attempt to machine quilt that was so cumbersome and challenging, it was quickly abandoned after 8 inches of stitches. To finish the blanket, I tied the quilt using all of my leftover Pearl Cotton thread balls, which conveniently I had just enough of in matching colors. (I draped the quilt over my large worktable to do the tying.) Lastly I bound the quilt with leftover bindings from other quilts. Just for kicks I sewed on an official Pendleton label leftover from an old shirt. I cannot describe the level of pleasure and satisfaction that I derive from creating something useful and beautiful out of the leftovers. It feels radical, an act of both defiance and an act of love. It makes me feel powerful and it makes me grateful to have what I do have. It allows me to stretch my creativity in ways that feed my soul. Especially as we head into the season of excess consumerism.
To continue with the Scandinavian wisdom, I listened to the Norwegian folk duo the Kings Of Convenience while working on this blanket. The Kings of Convenience produce quiet, thoughtful songs and this post is named after one of my faves. Many years ago when I saw them in concert, the band strategically placed handwritten signs around the small venue that read, “Please no talking – we are a quiet band.” And people abided! There was respect for the musicians and the crowd, which is more than I can say for some recent experiences I’ve had at shows. I’ve owned the two albums Riot on an Empty Street and Quiet is the New Loud for many years, and although they don’t get as much play as they once did, there is a nostalgia that happens every time I listen to them. They are definitely cozy, winter albums. Albums to sip coffee or a nice glass of wine to. Albums to knit to. Albums to rest to. There is beauty in the quiet, which is what the winter reminds of. To embrace the quiet, to enjoy the downtime. To cozy up under a quilt with an album on the stereo and not feel obligated to do anything more than savor that moment.
As we transition into winter, I feel better prepared to embrace the benefits that lie ahead. There will be moments where I just want some sunlight and to be warm please, but those will be offset by the moments of peace, quiet, rest, lots of good books and hearty soups. I will remember the lessons of hygge and the contentment of slow, simple downtime. Now is the time to retreat and enjoy the respite. All of the Scandinavian countries vie for the honor of the world’s happiest people, despite facing extreme seasons. There are lessons we can all take to heart from folks who have learned to enjoy the simple pleasures and joys in life — during each and every season.
Quiltunes 