I’ve just made my mother a snake dog for her birthday.

The design comes from Miyako Kanamori’s wonderful book Sock and Glove. Miyako’s patterns use socks or gloves to create soft toys.

My mother lives in town these days but for fifty years she was a farmer’s wife. She spent many days alone in the bush with the farm dogs for company.

A snake dog was a great asset to any farming family. Our best was a red cattle dog called Cindy who came from the RSPCA.

She had a great instinct for a quick attack, grab and shake. Dogs that grab behind the head live the longest. Any snakes that came too close to the house would have to deal with Cindy.

She was only bitten once when she tackled a big brown snake under the house. My brother applied a pressure bandage, drove 35 km and paid a few hundred dollars to save her.

This birthday my mother will be 88. She has just bought a five year membership to a local football club. In his later years American comedian George Burns used to tell people he didn’t even buy green bananas.

I had great time making Barker for my Mother. I hope she likes him.

My early hand sewing often ended up in a depressing tangle of knots. Stitching projects were left unfinished and pretty soon I concluded that I wasn’t much of a hand sewer.

So how is it that I now have my own completed tapestries, embroideries, and handquilting around the house. What changed?

Several years ago I attended a sewing class by brilliant designer and quilter Jan Mullen. As she demonstrated some hand stitching to the class her thread got tangled in a knot. Jan stopped and spoke to the class about knots.

She told us that she often gets knots in her threads. She told us that if she relaxed and played a little the knot would nearly always come undone. She told us to tease out the thread - no pulling or tugging. Jan demonstrated a light and playful touch.

This turned it around for me. Firstly if an experienced stitcher like Jan got knots in her thread it wasn’t some unique failing of mine. It was just part of a sewing life.

My knotty problems were no longer a cue for feelings of frustration and self reproach. Jan’s few words cast a magic spell over my attitude to knots. Each knot was now a playful possibility.

As is often the case in life, success built on success. If I get a knot in my thread now I feel confident I have a 90% possibility I can tease it out. If I can’t ..well, that’s just life…it is certainly no reflection on me.

I am sure there are a few zen masters out there who have been able to extend this understanding to their whole lives. So far I’ve only mastered untangling my sewing thread.

I am studying the work of a woman whose standard of dressmaking is very high.

She is teaching me that it is important to choose to take control of your sewing. Let me explain.

There is a rush of excitement at the start of any sewing project. Our spirits soar as we imagine our creation finished and looking incredible.

Sometimes it can be difficult to slow down and walk through the necessary steps. Corners are cut, things are good enough.

Excitement is the driver and at times we are swerving all over the road. So what if the stitches aren’t straight. What if we don’t pin first?

There are no sewing police. It doesn’t matter does it?

Well no, it doesn’t matter if it ended there. However, if we judge our ability by what we produce it certainly DOES matter.

If we never wear the clothes we make it matters a lot.

“I am not a good sewer” Is the frequent conclusion people come to. Each of us can be a master sewer if we choose.

Master sewers have control of their excitement. They follow the logical steps. They measure, they pin. They take time to check their work.

They sit forward at their machine and put their hands on the fabric. They steer, they are in control of what is happening. They concentrate on each step until it is resolved. They will unpick if something is not right.

You may not describe yourself as a precision driver but when you are stuck in a tight corner you choose to concentrate and drive like one.

To master sewing clothes we need to let detail matter. As in life, if we choose to slow down and really focus, we can master what is important to us.

We all have one special piece of clothing that we just can’t part with no matter how worn it becomes. We keep wearing it as it slowly falls apart.

My friend Anne lives in her old green t-shirt. It was the first thing she thought of when I mentioned that my new Bernina 440 has some incredible mending options.

It has a BSR stipple quilting feature that turns a patch into art.

I backed each hole in Anne’s shirt with a contrasting fabric. In thread the same colour as the shirt I stitched a swirly design. This creates a really interesting reverse applique effect.

Anne loves her repaired shirt. It is still just as comfortable and soft to wear - it is also a little piece of art as well.

I suddenly realised the potential of fixing up my friends and families most loved clothing.

I was actually so excited I felt like door knocking my street. Bring out your tired loved clothing and I will fix it for you!

I just finished repairing Jenny’s shorts that she has had for seventeen years! She has a bikers bottom!

It is so much fun watching the joy people feel when their repaired clothing is returned to them with a new bounce in its step.

Perhaps this might be a great Christmas present for family members - a mending of something special.

As awareness of global warming increases, we need to put the brakes on our consuming ways.

Instead of throwing out what we love - maybe we can consider giving them a whole new life by mending them.

This is a great way we can help save the planet and keep what we love for longer.

Here is Lisa’s wonderful sewing story.

Last year I received one of the worst phone calls of my life.

My sister rang to tell me she had just been diagnosed with breast cancer.

I was so shocked I could barely take in the rest her story.

She said although the lump was large it was not aggressive and her prognosis was good.

All I could think about was how I would react to the same news for myself. I would just want to crawl into bed and stay there and cry.

Cathy’s instincts are not like mine. She is a much more practical, proactive, no-nonsense type of person.

She is in her mid-40’s, married with no children, works full time in the insurance industry and likes to scrapbook in her spare time.

She enjoys going boating, fishing and crayfishing with her husband Gary.

Her way of coping with this frightening illness was to be determined not to let it effect her one jot.

She kept working throughout her chemo and radiotherapy and didn’t seem to miss a step in her path.

I, on the other hand, was left feeling like I had nothing to offer her in the way of care or solace.

What could I do for my sister who was coping so admirably and so very self sufficiently with my worst nightmare?

I had recently discovered the addiction of patchwork quilting. My good friend Julia had gotten me hooked and I was popping out quilt after quilt.

At that time I was poring over the book Community Quilts looking for designs for my next project.

It occurred to me that this could just be the thing I could do for my sister.

I wanted to give her a quilt but they take time.

A community quilt, with many loving hands working together, may just be the expression of love and caring that we could all give my sister, our friend.

I got together a crew of sisters, nieces, cousins, friends and neighbours.

To this group of mainly non sewing women I demonstrated how the block that would be used to make the quilt.

I asked the women to choose two matching materials of light and dark values that Cathy might like.

We had one quick demo day where we all worked on the cutting out together so that everyone went away with a kit and instructions.

10 days later all of the blocks were delivered to my home one after another on the same day.

It was the most amazing thing. The door bell sounded and there was my cousin with her patches and those of other cousins.

She left after a quick cuppa and once more the bell rang. There was my niece’s husband with his wife’s patches. And those of her sister and their mother, my other sister.

He left on other errands and I went to get my children from school.

When I returned there was another bundle of patches were waiting on my doorstep.

They had been delivered by my sister’s neighbours and friends.

What a bonanza of patches for me to sew together!

The quilt evolved effortlessly from there.

Miraculously, the colours chosen by Cathy’s loved ones all melded together with wonderful ease.

It was sheer joy to join them all in a blanket that I knew my sister would love.

I didn’t see Cathy cry throughout her whole ordeal, but she cried the day I gave her the quilt.

My sister recently told me she was keeping the quilt in her cupboard.

She was scared it would get dirty and if she washed it all the names of the contributors that are printed on it would wash off.

I told her, “Those names are written in permanent ink and they will be there for you as long as we will.”

*Community Quilts - How to Organise, Design & Make A Group Quilt by Karol Kavaya and Vicki Skemp, published by Lark Books.

Have you ever given a child a present only to see them ignore the gift and play with the wrapping?

It has happened to me and as a Mum I have seen it happen to others.

So I know that rule number one about sewing for babies or children is don’t expect them to like it. The joy is in the making.

With this in mind I set out to make my friend Imari a toy cat.

My sewing buddy Lisa cut out a paper pattern for me to work from. The pattern was by Shawna Waters.

I sewed together a collection of bright quilting blocks I had left over from various projects.

This formed my base fabric. Next I cut out front and back and two arms and legs.

As Imari is only four months old I decided to applique felt eyes instead of using buttons that might be chewed off.

I bought three enamel bells that I put in with the stuffing. I liked the idea that this cat made a bell sound.

I have to say the finished cat is very bright and unusual. The quilting fabrics come together and bounce off each other. Dingle is certainly one of a kind.

There were minor technical hitches along the way. Eventually he was finished and I couldn’t wait to hand him over.

The timing was less than ideal.

Imari was very tired, hungry and having a big yell. Her Mum told me to hand Dingle over anyway.

The two of us stared in amazement as in an instant Imari stopped crying and held out for hands for the toy.

She smiled at it with real affection then looked up at us as if to ask, “Is this mine?”

I am not making this up. It was an incredible moment of love at first sight.

I cannot tell you how amazed we all were. She just loves him.

To me this is not just a sewing story but also a sewing miracle.

I’d like to introduce you to Anne. She and her daughter Jess have a sewing story about their trip to fairyland.

Anne: I once made a little fabric house for my daughter Jess. The house was made in shades of pink and purple. On the outside it had little windows and doors. The house opened out and on inside were little pieces of fabric furniture. A family of fabric rabbits lived in the house.

I did like making things for my children. As the children were small I could only work on the little house every now and then. It took maybe a couple of months at least. The house was cute, fairy land and I loved the way it opened up. Jess found it intriguing. She enjoyed carrying it around with its little carry handle. Making this is one of my best sewing memories because it helped me play in a little cute world of make believe.

Jess: Mum made the little house for me. Let me tell you what I remember. It was a surprise present, I think for my birthday. I remember it had a rabbit and a little bed and little pictures on the wall. The house was special because it was so personalised for me. It had everything I liked in it. Particularly the pictures on the walls were things I was interested in. There was one of a black labrador and another of a brown horse. It had flap that was sealed with velcro so that it could open and shut. The little house was soft to touch and it had cardboard in it that made it stand up. It had two material (like the fabric at the side of zips) handles that turned it into a carry bag. Eventually when we stopped playing with it Mum gave it to a little girl we know. I was OK with that, I loved it but I was happy to give it to someone else to play with.

If you are interested in finding old patterns like this one, try Lanetz Living Sewing Patterns. This online shop is run by Janet, a grandmother from Kansas. She sells all sorts of interesting retro patterns. Have fun.

I just finished reading Cormac McCarthy’s book The Road. Let me tell you this is not a stroll across an open field. This is a look at a post civilisation world. You might be surprised when I tell you that I found the story more helpful than depressing. Let me tell you why.

If I strip away the mountain of false information it becomes clear that I need very little. Survival depends on water, food, a place to sleep out of the rain and someone to love and keep striving for. That is it. Water, food, shelter, someone to live for. I look around at what I have. I consider how complicated and unhappy life can become managing what I have and what I want.

I want a renovation and some more room. Some days my desire for it can feel desperate. If you have teenagers you will understand. If it were not the renovation it might be a new computer or a new car. The eternal longing for more, bigger, better can be so strong. I can convince myself that everything will be OK when I get the next thing. Familiar?

McCormack’s story helped me to remember that real happiness is not in the getting. Happiness is in the appreciation of what is and in connection with my people. On this blog action day I would offer a prayer that I may live more with less. That is what really offers more comfort and security for me and my planet.

Imagine you come upon the most amazing market place. Colourful stalls are overflowing with wild fabrics, rare books, unusual buttons, software and patterns. The place is abuzz with the chattter of people passionate about sewing. You feel inspired and excited by all these wonderul ideas. You are moved by the generousity of people wanting to help you.

You stroll around taking in the incredible diversity of offerings. Gradually you notice that this market seems to include things for all sorts of people. You see patterns for elderly folk, tiny prem babies and people who are disabled. You see things for celebrations, hobbies, problem solving and silly stuff just for fun. There is no shop on earth like this one. This is a true community market place and everyone is welcome here.

This is no fantasy - this is a real website. It has taken Lily Abello ten years to assemble this Sewing Resource Guide. It is the most amazing list of nearly 1000 very special sewing web sites. It is the first entry in The Sewing Circle directory and I think you’ll agree Lily’s is a remarkable achievement. So go and have a look - you are in for a real treat.

There was once a handsome young man who came to be called Fanta. He was a surveyor who had a job making maps for the military during the Second World War. On five occasions his plane was shot down in the jungles of New Guinea.

After the war he became a bit of a clown and a problem drinker. His war experiences were rarely discussed. What is known is that he once sat with a dead friend for a day before making his way out of the jungle.

One day I started stitching a series of aeroplane shapes on a background of different patterns of bright green fabric. It took ages and when the squares were finished I felt dissatisfied and put them away for a year. I then cut these squares into strips. I still wasn’t sure what I was making.

I cut up lots different green fabric strips and randomly sewed in the sliced up plane shapes. Out of the sheet of fabric I had created I cut a big plane shape and tacked it into a three-layered quilt. Over many months I hand quilted small plane shapes over the whole quilt.

The finished aeroplane quilt is big, (2.1m x 2.1m) took three years to make and hangs on my ceiling. It shows scattered pieces of plane in the jungle. All these pieces are contained in a bigger plane that just keeps flying.

I think the quilt is a story about Fanta who just kept going in life. Back in the jungle the plane wreckage rusted. He went back to his job in an office; he paid bills, went camping and argued with his wife.

This quilt is about the extraordinary way ordinary people keep going. What takes the greatest courage for our soldiers? Is it the dangers of war or the challenge of fitting back into an everyday life when it’s all over?

You crash, you survive. That is what the quilt means to me. It is not practical, or useful, or even traditionally beautiful. The strange thing is that whenever I look at this quilt it gives me strength. Maybe you have had a mystery sewing project that evolved over time? I’d love to hear from you.