A stitch in time

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 29/03/2020 (2172 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Place a problem such as a physical distancing due to a worldwide pandemic in front of knitters and quilt-makers, and then watch them craft a way around it.

As the possibilities of face-to-face meetings have swiftly unravelled over the past weeks, these creative folks have picked up other ways to connect over their shared passions.

“We have regular knit groups that meet regularly in the store so we have online threads (catching up) on how we’re doing,” explains Odessa Reichel, co-owner of Wolseley Wool yarn shop of how knitters are communicating over social media.

With more than a hundred knitters meeting in their Westminster Avenue store weekly, Reichel and her business partner Mona Zaharia scrambled to find another way to keep in touch.

As well as congregating on the store’s Facebook page and Instagram feed, the store’s staff are calling members of their weekly groups and encouraging them to check in on each other.

“Our community is so supported and so connected,” says Zaharia of the strong bonds between knitters.

“We’re used to seeing them every week so we’re checking in with them.”

Reichel and Zaharia changed their retail business to accommodate telephone and online orders, offering sidewalk pick-up of skeins of yarns or no-contact delivery. Instead of teaching people to knit in person, they have compiled learn-to-knit kits stocked with yarn, needles, easy patterns and some links to online tutorials, perfect for a beginning knitter of any age.

“That was a response to kids being at home,” Zaharia says about the new kits.

Across town at Design Wall, the proprietor of Winnipeg’s newest quilt shop has gone old school by changing her display windows every weekend and inviting quilters to drive by on Sundays and Mondays to check out new products, kits and designs.

“It’s a safe, non-contact outing, sort of like the old Eaton’s window idea,” says Simone Clayton, referring to the displays in the now-defunct national department store chain.

With her West Winnipeg shop closed to in-person shopping, Clayton serves customers through her website and by telephone, as quilt-makers rally to support her business and ensure they are stocked up with supplies for the duration.

‘It feels like you want to scream some days, you want to cry some days or just want to stare out of the window incredulously… It’s about the act of sewing and just letting the world slip away for awhile’– Cheryl Arkison

“I’m off the hook with the phone,” she says about the increased telephone calls.

Knitters, quilt-makers and other crafters keep joking online that they are perfectly equipped with the skills and more than enough supplies to keep them occupied in long periods of physical distancing or isolation. Several memes pop up repeatedly on social media: “Staying in: We can handle it. It’s what sewists train for on a regular basis.” Or: “I can’t. I’m sew-cial distancing.” And: “No need to worry about self isolation. This is what we’ve been training for.”

Along with the memes, some quilt-makers are posting tutorials or organizing group quilting efforts as a way to pass the time together, buoy up spirits and build community. Recently quilt-maker and teacher Cheryl Arkison of Calgary posted a six-minute video tutorial on Instagram and her website on how to sew an exclamation mark patchwork block in four quick seams, using it as an opportunity to comment on the current world situation and a way for a quilt-maker to learn a new skill in five minutes.

“It feels like you want to scream some days, you want to cry some days or just want to stare out of the window incredulously,” she said about how the exclamation mark can punctuate every thought during the pandemic.

“It’s about the act of sewing and just letting the world slip away for awhile.”

Over the course of a week, Arkison, 44, has sewn dozens of blocks featuring blue exclamation marks on a light background, employing her sewing skills to express the mix of emotions brought on by uncertainty and constant change.

“This is very much about the process, not the product,” explains the quilt book author and teacher about her project which will eventually result in a bed quilt.

Colorado quilt-maker Laura Loewen decided to face the COVID-19 pandemic straight on with a group quilt project, issuing an invitation for quilters through Instagram to contribute a small block to her social-distancing quilt. She hatched the idea after her quilt guild’s meetings were cancelled and decided that a group quilt could still be possible while quilters stay at home.

Inspired by petri dishes shown repeatedly in the news to represent the novel coronavirus, Loewen is asking for six-inch (15 cm) white blocks featuring a four inch (10 cm) circle, embellished with embroidery, patchwork, beading or other creative touches. She posted more details about the project on at www.lauraloewen.com.

“It’s going to be something we remember whether we want to or not,” says the Illinois-born Loewen of the pandemic. At the time of the interview, Loewen was on Day 12 of isolation with her two young children, and her community located in Boulder Country, Colo., was under a stay-at-home order.

Two weeks into the project, which launched on Friday, March 13, Loewen has received about a dozen quilt blocks in the mail, which she carefully quarantines for several days before opening the envelopes.

She plans to make a small quilt in time for the annual quilt show sponsored by the Modern Quilt Guild, scheduled to take place in Altanta next February.

“I thought it would show how the quilting community gets together in a crisis,” says Loewen, 37, a professional photographer who has been making quilts since she was a teenager.

Quilt-makers often rush to offer the comfort of a handmade quilt during emergencies, says Arkison, who co-ordinated an online patchwork block drive called Just One Slab in the summer of 2013 after more than 100,000 Albertans were displaced due to flooding due to heavy rains.

Initially hoping for enough blocks to make 10 quilts, she was overwhelmed with 10 times that amount, enlisting friends and fellow quilt-makers to finish more than a hundred quilts that were distributed to people affected by the floods.

“We’re one of the first to jump forward to help,” she says of the generosity of quilt-makers.

“The Just One Slab project allowed quilters to contribute to a major disaster.”

This time the mother of three feels more overwhelmed by the wide reach of the pandemic crisis and designed her exclamation point block for people to develop in their own way.

“With the floods, we were told to stay at home and be out of the way of the emergency workers, but that didn’t mean staying away from the neighbours and the playground,” she explains.

“The sense of community is still there and we’re checking in on each other.”

Zaharia says people pick up knitting needles at first because they like the tactile nature of touching yarn and seeing socks and sweaters grow under their fingers. But most of them keep knitting because of the strong bonds they’ve created with others doing the same thing.

“People are very connected through craft,” she says.

“It’s different than other hobbies.”

brenda@suderman.com