A bandolier

Thanks to Michael W., I am finally getting the last pieces together to go with my matchlock. He made this bandolier for me, and is currently working on the last 6 bottles. I need to lay in more powder and ball, and probably little more slow match. It must be my inner pyromaniac that loves holding burning match and a musket in one hand while pouring loose powder down the barrel from a wooden bottle with the other.

Then I need to practice the gazillion steps to the Caliver Drill. (I don’t have a musket rest, and my hands aren’t big enough for holding the musket and rest for the Musket Drill, which is longer, anyway.) That way if a certain blogger who has mentioned an interest in matchlocks hasn’t fired one, I’ll be ready if we ever meet.

The Manchester Banyan, part 3

After setting in the sleeves, I tried to mock up a collar following the proportions of the pattern. It was awful. It didn’t stand high enough, and it appeared that the neckline had stretched out a bit. Even with pinning it together on the sides, it just didn’t sit right. And with the front turned back, it just looked … wrong.

First I basted around the neckline and took up some of the fullness like I did with the sleeves. Then I drew a new pattern, cut it out another collar and pinned it on. Not so great. I slashed it apart to get it to sit properly and he redrew another pattern.

Better, but still not great. So I grabbed a scrap and just sort of winged (wung?) it. This seemed to work a little better. A little trimming and I seemed to get a good fit.

Of course, I forgot to get pictures of it from the back and sides, but that's looking pretty good so far. (Knock wood!)

Why I carry.

This past weekend, Sweet Daughterand I traveled to visit some friends, including a young lady 2 years older than SD.

At one point everyone was in our hotel room, and the other girl looked at the locks on the door and asked if they were there to keep the Bad Guys out. I said yes, and that if they didn’t keep the Bad Guy out, they’d at least slow him down enough so that I could get my pistol (pointing to my range bag) and stop him. Then I told her that, as a grownup, it was my job to keep her and SD safe from Bad Guys, and THAT was why I had a gun.

SD’s friend, who is raised in a liberal, Code White world, cocked her head to one side as a new idea entered her head.
“Sweet Daughter!” I called. “Where would you go if I yelled ‘Wolf*!’”

She looked around the room and said “The closet!”

“Behind the bed against the wall is another good choice”, I said. But, since we’re on the ground floor, we have another option. That grown-up (pointing) could open the window and get you outside while I stopped the Bad Guy.”

And I could almost see the lightbulb start to glow over the head of the other girl.

I grew up in a Code White world, and on my way over to the side of taking responsibility for my own safety, I went through this thought process.

Most good parents worth the title often proclaim that they would die to keep their kids safe. This is noble and selfless and good, but at one point I asked myself why I should die to save Sweet Daughter? Why should she spend the rest of her life without her mother? Wouldn’t it be better if the Bad Guy went down instead? I’m willing to die for my daughter, but more importantly, if one of us is going to take a permanent dirt nap, I’d prefer it not be me.

So, yes. If the threat is there, I’m willing to kill for her. And this past weekend, I found out that I was willing to extend that courtesy to other innocents as well.

* “Wolf” is our code name for Bad Guy.

Manchester Banyan, Part 2 - sleeves

I started by sewing the sleeves together by machine, and flat-felling the seams by hand with a prick-stitch. Flat-felling is where you press your seam allowance to one side, trim the bottom-most layer to about half its width and then fold the top layer over it (encasing the cut edge) and sew the folded edge down. This finishes the seam so that there aren’t any raw edges to unravel, and makes a strong seam.

Then I attached the cuffs, and prick-stitched along the top edge.

Sometimes you get really lucky and the pattern matches without you even trying.

Next, I sewed the center back seam, carefully pinning and matching the pattern first. It didn’t work very well. The fabric was slick enough to not want to stay put between the presser foot and the feed dog on the machine. So I ripped out the seam, and prick-stitched it by hand, then flat-felled the seam.  Much better.

Side seams were next, followed by the shoulder seams.

Side seam: the pattern lined up horizontally.

Then it was time to set in the sleeves. The top of the sleeves was stitched on the machine with two rows of long basting stitches. The ends of the bastiing threads were pulled up just enough to take the "slack" out of the fabric without actually causing any gathers to form.

Basting stitches in place.



Extra fullness eased out, and sleeve pinned into place.



The next step was to sew the sleeves into the body of the banyan. I did this on the machine.

This hasn't been pressed yet, but see how nicely that fits?

Next, was the collar. I cut out a trial one using the pattern as a guide line and it failed. It failed a lot, but that's a post for another day.

It's Hot Buttered Rum Day!

It's National Hot Buttered Rum Day, and to celebrate I'm sharing an 18th century receipt with you. It's not some watered-down abomination with sugar and butter "optional".  Use real maple syrup, butter, cider (NOT clear juice) and dark rum, and you have a drink that will relax a gerbil high on meth.

For one:

1 cup cider
1 Tbsp maple syrup
3/4 teaspoon butter
1/4 cup rum

For two:

2 cups cider
1/8 cup maple syrup
11/2 teaspoon butter
1/2 cup rum

For a group:

4 cups cider
1/4 cup maple syrup
1 Tbsp butter
1 cup rum

For a crowd:

8 cups cider
1 cup maple syrup
1/4 cup butter
1 quart rum

Overheard in the car

Three girls, ages 5 to 8 in the back of the car being silly and loud. Suddenly I hear Sweet Daughter pipe up with "HEY! Let's play rock, paper, scissors, shoot!!"

The Manchester Banyan, part 1

If you are really that bored, you can go here and see how I decided to start this project. Basically, I bought a book, saw a pattern, tracked down a photo of the original, found some fabric, and decided it must be made.

I started with a set of measurements from my victim. Okay, that’s not right. First, I started by washing the fabric in cold water on gentle cycle and letting it hang dry. (You only have to have one project ruined because you didn’t bother to pre-wash your fabric to learn that lesson …) Secondly, I asked for his shirt size and suit size. That is not my preferred way of doing things, but I there wasn’t any way of getting accurate measurements, and I was doing a fitting muslin anyway. So I crossed my fingers and went to work.

I found some really horrible (but cheap!!) $1/yard fabric at Wal-mart to use for my fitting muslin. I took the J.P. Ryan sleeved waistcoat pattern that I’ve worked with extensively, the scale drawing in my book, a set of calipers, a yardstick, some chalk, and went to work drawing my new pattern shapes.

I cut it all out, basted it together and found a chance to do a fitting. Unfortunately, that was the weekend of the headcold and conjunctivitis, and I did not get any pictures. I did get a pretty darn good fit, though. That is the beauty of starting with a pattern you know inside and out. The sleeves were perfect, and the back only needed a little shaping down the spine. I did end up cutting the neckline a little low, but I’m probably the only one that will notice.


Isn't this fabric hideous? That's a lavender horizontal stripe, and it has vertical stretch.


With alterations marked, I took the fitting muslin apart and figured out how to lay out all the pieces on the real fabric. This was a challenge as the banyan fabric was about 6” narrower than the fitting muslin. Luckily, we had a couple of really slow days at work during Christmas week, and one of the conference rooms wasn’t being used during lunch. I can not tell you how much easier the layout process was when I could have the whole length stretched out on one table.

Cutting one layer at a time means you can match the pattern perfectly.

 Cut one layer, match patterns, then cut the bottom layer. Perfect match, every time!