Chocolate & Roses

Chocolate & Roses 

She sauntered the isles of a fabric outlet. Looking for drapery material for the family room something caught her eye. “Hmm, red roses on a chocolate background. How irresistibly charming,” smiled the Lady-of-the-house. “It will go nicely with our red check sofa,” she reasoned, feeling more rationally headed at that moment than the Man-of-the-house would recognize. 

The fabric was a discount remnant. The yardage was sold as-is. There was plenty on the bolt for the possibility of making a few accessories. “Still, one mustn’t act on impulse. I’ll sleep on it.” 


This done, she returned in the morning with milk chocolate and red roses still tantalizing her imagination, and made her purchase.

Now she had her work cut out for her. The project consisted of making one wide panel per window - to be swept up to one side. It was a simple Colonial style. 


Yet, no project fit the description of simple if it meant setting up the sewing machine. It always seemed that as soon as the machine was threaded and its temperamental tension was adjusted, bobbin wound, a few seams under way, with the usual set backs due to the necessary use of the seam ripper, it was time to put dinner on the table. “I’ll return to it when I can,” she reassured herself. “Tomorrow is another day.”  


This was how she managed to complete so many things in her life; a couple unhurried steps one day and a couple unhurried ones the next. Even if finding time meant once a week at her machine, eventually a project was completed.

A day after her homemade drapes were hung something looked odd. She figured out what it was and with chagrin said to her adult daughter, “Look, that window’s drape is a bit longer than this one. How on earth did that happen?” 

 “Mom, I wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t pointed it out,” her daughter told her, calmly.

The Man of the house was just as calm. He had the last word. He laughed quietly to himself and said, “No one’ll notice.” It was the same masculine opinion the Lady-of-the-house was used to hearing upon completion of other projects - for she was given to consulting him. 

You see, it wasn’t uncommon that after all her careful sewing, imperfections were noticed in the final product by the Lady-of-the-house. As time passed, however, imperfections became less glaring. More time and they weren’t glaring at all.  Her conclusion?

Anything worth doing for Mother Culture 

is worth doing imperfectly.

She made this one of her mottos. If a project ministers to the feminine soul, satisfies a desire for gift giving, if it adds a little touch of beauty to the home (such as sprucing up a twelve-year-old sofa) it is very worth doing – even if the end result is somewhat “homemade” and imperfect. 

Decorating this post is a rose bag, made from leftover fabric, a gift to her daughter for carrying cello music. 

The blue book bag was made for a friend. The Lady-of-the house lined both bags with a soft plaid and semi-secretive lace.

While ironing fabric for piecing her pillow she was met with a surprise. She read -Wuthering Heights  - in the margin and her fancy was tickled once more. 


She likes this fabric so much that she hopes to use it again with the blue stripe for a different pillow.

Do you see the brown piping at the base of the ruffle? Adding this to a seam with gathers was a challenge. But the puckers where the piping overlaps itself is an imperfection that is no longer glaring. The Man-of-the-house is right. No one will notice.

Perhaps she decided to her make her ruffled pillow after being impressed with this painting by George Goodwin Kilburne. 

I don't know how this post's fonts got jumbled. 

Until we meet again,

Karen Andreola