New (to me) Technique for Half-Square Triangles
STITCHERY
There’s always a new way to create a familiar block in quilting.
I learned this incredibly easy technique for making half-square triangles this weekend, and couldn’t wait to try it.
I started with two five-inch squares, put them right sides together, and pressed them.
Pressing two pieces of fabric together encourages them to cling to one another, cutting down on slippage when you sew.
Sew a quarter-inch seam around all four sides of the squares. I sewed one side at a time so that the lines of stitching criss-crossed at the corners.
Start with two squares the same size.
Press them together so they “stick” to one another a little bit
Sew around all four sides
Cut your squares in half diagonally once.
Cut in half diagonally once.
And then cut those two pieces in half again, as shown.
Cut those halves in half again
Press the triangles open, toward the darker fabric.
Be sure to cut off the “ears” that stick out beyond the half-square triangle. The top block in the photo below still has its “ears” intact.
I would recommend that at this stage, you trim all four triangles so they are the same size.
Press the triangles open. Cut off the corners that stick out beyond the half-square triangle
At last count, there are a bazillion different blocks that include half square triangles. Two of the easiest are this variation of flying geese. And then there’s the proverbial and always interesting pinwheel.
You can put them together like flying geese or…
…put them together in pinwheels.
UPDATE: I learned this technique from guild member Jennifer Heels who added this handy equation that will help you figure out how big of a square you need to start with:
A = your desired HST size (unfinished)
B = the side dimensions (in inches) of the square you will cut from your two fabrics (i.e. 8″ x 8″)
(A + 1/2″) x 2 = B
Shadow + Meandering = Shandering
Passion for Patchwork by Lise Bergene
I’ve developed a simple way to machine quilt that’s not stitch-in-the-ditch but can still be done with the feed dogs up, and the walking foot in place. I guess you could call it shadow meandering.
My first quilts were quilted in straight lines, the most difficult pattern to quilt. Boring.
Then I tripped across Lise Bergene’s book, A Passion for Patchwork, and she has all these wavy lines criss-crossing her quilts. Have I told you how much I love this book? I haven’t made anything from it, so far, but her design style inspires me.
Detail from Treehouse Steps quilt by Sonja Hakala
So I started quilting in wavy lines. It’s pretty easy, actually, especially if you are wearing sticky-fingered gloves to move your fabric around. You set yourself a steady pace of stitching, feed dogs up with walking foot engaged, and while the quilt is in motion, hold your fingers in one spot on the left. The quilt will pivot around the point you set so your stitching curves.
Lift your left hand, put down your right, and do the same thing so your stitching waves in the opposite direction.
Or plant both hands on either side of your needle, and use them together to shift your quilt gently from side to side as you stitch.
You can see the results from this in the detail of my Treehouse Steps quilt pictured above.
This was fine, as far as it went, but the result looked too scattered to me. I wasn’t completely satisfied.
Detail from Werthy Sampler by Sonja Hakala
Then during a conversation with a quilting friend, she happened to mention how much she likes to shadow quilt—making two identical lines of quilting, most often around a particular shape in a top to emphasize it.
So what would it look like if I shadowed my meandering quilting? I’m here to tell you, I loved the effect. I stitch a single meandering line from top to bottom, side to side or along a diagonal. When I reach the end, I return to my starting point, align the outside left edge of my presser foot with the stitching I just put down, and follow that line to the end.
Most of the time, I sew only two lines together but for my Werthy Sampler, pictured above, I used three and sometimes four, using different color thread.
A wide open zig zag stitch meandering across a quilt
Now I’m shadow meandering (shandering?) with different kinds of stitches, like the wide-open zig zag I’m applying to my orphan block quilt, a detail of which is pictured above. So far, I like the slightly ruffled quality it adds to the surface. I’m withholding final judgement until I get the stitching done in the other direction so I can see if it causes wrinkling problems at the intersections.
This is quick, good-looking utility quilting that adds a level of interest to a piece. Try it. Send me pictures if you do, and I’ll post them here for all to enjoy.
More Than One Way to Make a Goose
Large flying geese blocks
Orphan block quilt by Sonja Hakala
A quilting friend once teased me that it’s all right if I sew without a purpose.
But I have a wide practical streak in my nature that I couldn’t ignore if I tried so this orphan block quilt had a reason for being right from the start.
My favorite quilt size is the one I make for the Parkinson’s Comfort Quilt Project. (See the page for this to the right.) The optimal size for these quilts is anywhere from 32 to 36 inches wide and 50 to 60 inches long. With that in mind, this quilt still had a ways to go once its center was complete.
Enter the large, scrappy flying geese running up and down the two sides of this quilt.
Every quilter organizes her scraps in different ways. A couple of years ago, I started cutting the bits of fabric left over from my projects into squares ranging in size from 2 1/2 to 6 inches. I cut my leftovers to the largest size in that range, and store them in plastic bags.
Well, of course, when you have enough of that sort of thing, you have to use it once in a while.
That’s how these geese got their start, as 6-inch squares of light fabric. Since I wanted the final blocks to be as large as possible, I decided to construct them out of two half-square triangles instead of the more traditional route of squares sewn to triangles.
As I pin basted this project at a sit and sew sponsored by my guild (there are large tables there just perfect for this activity), one of the other quilters commented on how I’d made these.
“I would think the points would be harder to line up,” she said.
I’ve made flying geese this way many times without a hitch, and find this method especially useful for making the larger birds in a flock.
Also note, in the finished top, that I added a block of olive green fabric to finish up the strip so that it would be the right size. And the dark brown fabric in the geese is also used in the border at the top and bottom of the project, tying it all together.
I’m in Pieces, Bits and Pieces
Orphan block quilt began here
Then these were put together and added to the log cabin blocks
Then these flying geese were added to the bottom
I read a great quote the other day in one of the Morse mysteries by Colin Dexter: Once you’ve started, you’re halfway there.
Which is a pretty good description of what happens when you tackle an orphan block quilt.
This one started with an abandoned table runner. That’s it at the top of this piece, four log cabins with a half-square triangle border on two sides.
Once I picked this out of my block cache, I had a color direction, and something of a style path—fall-ish and traditional.
When I make a quilt like this, I pull every possible candidate out of my block accumulation. In other words, flamboyant colors, large hungry prints, and chartreuse didn’t get invited to this party.
The bits in the top center of the quilt included three nine-patch blocks, one four-patch that I turned on point, some stray squares in two different sizes, and a strip of a harvest-themed print featuring pumpkins.
The bottom strip of flying geese are left over from pillow covers. The cheery yellow fabric that sets off the browns has a silvery cast to it and tiny threads of red when you get close up so it really strikes the eye.
Each of these elements is connected to the other using the same fabric, a light mustard batik spattered by dark brown with some late summer green thrown in for good measure. The choice of connective tissue is key in a quilt like this because the eye needs a map to follow.
If you look closely, you might notice that the strips of this cloth are not a uniform width throughout, especially on the sides. These differences occur as you cut or expand on size so that the pieces eventually fit together. Sort of like carving your own puzzle pieces as you put them together.
Once the center piece came together, I had another decision to make—how to make the piece wider while enhancing the center and keeping with the established theme.
With a Block, Block Here and a Block, Block There
My latest orphan block quilt in a state of becoming
Teach Yourself Visually Quilting by Sonja Hakala
Four years later, I still have a drawer full of blocks created when I sewed and wrote Teach Yourself Visually Quilting.
And truth to tell, I’ve added to them in the intervening years.
For the uninitiated, quilt blocks that don’t have a home are referred to as “orphan blocks.” Strictly speaking, these aren’t scraps because a scrap, by definition, is a single piece of fabric that you don’t need at the moment for anything in particular.
Nope, these babies were destined for a life with others like them but along the way, they weren’t needed or didn’t fit in or the project was abandoned, etc.
They can be a real challenge to fashion into a quilt that makes sense to the eye. You’d think that all you had to do was pick out blocks at random, sew them together, and you’d end up with a quilt.
Not true. In some respects, orphan block quilts can be more of a challenge than starting off with all-new fabric because the blocks don’t work with one another very well or their differing sizes call for additions or subtractions in order to fit.
I hadn’t made an orphan block quilt for quite some time when a member of my guild started talking about them. Inspiration struck, as in “I haven’t made one of those in a while. I think I’ll do that as an in-between-other-projects project.”
Like I need another project.
Anyway, I dove into the odd-block drawer, and the quilt pictured at the top came out. Right now, it’s in the process of being quilted in a way I want to share with you as the week progresses.
And now we have a theme for this week—orphan block quilts and some fun utility quilting tips.
Woodn’t You Love This Quilt?
This is the first half of the center of my autumn nine-patch quilt sewn together.
I cut my teeth on quilting how-to books with Wiley Publishing, the folks who did my Teach Yourself Visually Quilting book and its companion, Visual Quick Tips Quilting. It was a great way to learn, and great folks to work with as well.
For consistency and probably to maintain good contrast, Wiley insisted that everything be photographed against a white background. My photographer brought a number of foam core boards to my house, where we took the pictures, and they worked just fine.
I wrote here the other day about one of my newfound loves, my Epson printer, which does a great job of scanning the smaller pieces of a quilt in a state of becoming. I’m working on a new quilt, part of which is pictured here, that’s one of four that will be featured in my newest pattern book. Now it’s too big to fit in my Epson any more.
Which brings me, believe it or not, to the hardwood floors in my living room.
My husband installed them last year, pre-finished oak. We love them. And I’ve discovered they make a great background for many of my quilts.
This particular spot on the living room floor is near the windows that look to the southwest so on a sunny day like today, I get a lot of reflected light.
And I love the warm color of the wood.
Besides, it’s my book and if I want to use a non-white background, I get to make the rules. As long as readers understand what I want them to see in my images, that’s what matters.
