Two things you might not know about me: I have a Thing for the color red (ok, if you look at Needle ‘n Thread, you might gather that), and I have a deep-seated affection for Sunbonnet Sue.

Sunbonnet Sue is iconic. When she’s done right, she’s just adorable. Admittedly, there are some Sues I like better than others. The vintage, homey, sweet Sunbonnet Sue – well, she just pulls my little heartstrings.

And so, there I was, a few weeks ago, meandering through new embroidery books out on the market, when my eyes were arrested by a whole redwork collection devoted to the sweet, vintage, homey Sue that I love!

Be still, my heart! Oh, I must have you! said I.

And the rest, as they say in Kansas (and many other places as well), was history.

The book was everything I hoped it would be. Here’s my review of Sunbonnet Sue Redwork Collection for All Seasons by Loyce Saxton of Yesterday’s Charm.

Happy Monday! Let’s start the week with a splash of color, shall we?

I’m still plugging away on the Secret Garden Embroidery Project. Now, it’s just the long haul with the feathers left, and some little accents here and there.

Do you ever feel as if you’re the only person in your personal world who is interested in embroidery and the needle arts?

Before Needle ‘n Thread, I used to feel like the odd guy out. I live in a small rural town in Kansas, and there aren’t a lot of social options for stitchers out here. I don’t know anyone close by who is as freaky-weirdly-interested in embroidery as I am. And traveling a long distance to participate in guild meetings is not possible for me.

If you’re in a similar situation, it can be kind of lonely, can’t it?

There are online groups, though, that can help you overcome the isolation of the lonely stitcher, and today, I want to tell you about three of them.

When Robert Burns consoled the Mouse, saying something about the best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men (undoubtedly in a heavy Scottish brogue) often going awry, I really think he was talking about me.

I swear I’m the best layer-of-schemes in the world. But they always seem to be the kind that go awry.

Take, for example, my plan for embroidering some beautiful little monograms and mounting them on mirror compacts, for a few of my nieces for Christmas. I had plans to make matching drawstring little bags, to house the mirror compacts in. And all decked out with pretty monograms…. my, my, ’twas sooch a good idea!

I even went so far as to buy the mirrors. And once I had those in hand, you know, it was just a matter of whipping out a few pretty monograms, doing some quick finish work, monogramming the outside of the drawstring bags, constructing the bags, and having them ready for Christmas.

I bought the mirrors at the end of November.

Hmm. Perhaps it wasn’t the best best-laid scheme, after all.

It’s Wednesday – a good day for a game!

I am the happy new owner of a collection of exquisitely fine, detailed embroideries that I’m going to tell you more about later on, as I finish up some research on them and clean them up.

I’ve been on a quest – thanks to the prodding of a reader in Australia who was on a similar quest – to find samples of this embroidery, and finally, I’ve got some in my grimy paws.

As you look at the photos below, can you guess what fabric this embroidery is worked on?

Corticelli, once upon a time, was The premier silk thread company. Corticelli silk was known around the world, and even now – though the company no longer exists – their threads are still well known by name.

The Corticelli silk company has an interesting history, which began in Florence, Massachusetts, in 1838, in an area where folks had been dabbling in sericulture and silk manufacturing for many years.

In 1846, one Samuel Hill took over the company, which was at that time the Nonotuck Silk Company, and under him, the company grew, especially due to his invention of a machine that produced the first successfully-made silk thread for sewing machines. The Singer company jumped on the thread, and the Nonotuck Silk Company really took off.

It was around this time, too, that the actual silk production shifted to China and Japan, because the US workforce could not affordably produce the amount of silk needed for the growth of the company. The raw silk was imported from Asia and then finished (dyed, twisted, spun, woven, etc.) in the mills in the US.