Hand made cocktail napkins

My friend Berta has moved to a new home, and I'm going over there to see it (and her) next week. Of course I want to bring a "Happy New Home" present, and not just a bottle of wine.

One of my favorite things that I found among my mother's store of linens was a little pile of small napkins.

We would call them "cocktail napkins" because they're much smaller than dinner napkins. I think they were my grandmother's, and I'm guessing she called them "luncheon napkins," because no decent woman would admit to any knowledge of cocktails in her day. They are obviously hand made - they are not a uniform size and they have that delicate pulled-thread decoration around the hemmed edges that women did a hundred years ago. No one has the time or knowledge for it today, which is a pity.

I decided Berta would like some hand made cocktail napkins in her new home. She and I definitely admit to cocktails, or at least wine, so let's call them what they are. And I would be willing to make them, although I'm not willing to start pulling threads.

I shopped around in my stash of fabric and found this fun dotted cotton I used a while ago to make pillow cases. It's a really nice fabric with a good cottony feel to it, and would make very cute cocktail napkins. I had enough left to make a set of six and, even better, I had already washed the fabric before I used it the last time. One less thing to do.

Using a paper cocktail napkin as a template, I cut 6 identical pieces from the fabric, each 11 inches square. This will leave me a 10-inch square napkin after hemming, which is the size of the paper napkin.

Then I started ironing. Yes, it's true - most of the process of making these little napkins involves the steam iron, and only near the last did I touch my sewing machine. This is fortunate for me, because I'm still running my sewing machine with my left foot, my right foot firmly encased in a big space boot because of my healing broken ankle. However, the future looks bright, because next week I'm supposed to try to fit, finally, into a shoe. My shoe. Here's hoping I find one that fits.

The process
Take one of the 11-inch squares and press a 1/4-inch hem on all four sides. Then work your way around and turn the hem a second time 1/4 inches and press each side, using steam to set the folds. Then, to make mitred corners, cut across each corner like this.

Holding the first fold in place, fold the corner up and join the edges of the folds to make the mitre.

This takes some bulk out of the corner's doubled double fold and leaves a nicely finished corner.

Next, press all the folds once again on the wrong side, and sidle on over to your sewing machine. I like to sew on the right side when it shows, because I'm convinced the stitch is more attractive on the top side. You can stitch on the other side if you want to, because it's easier to see that you're catching the fold. Either way will work fine.

I like to open up the length of my stitch a bit, so I set my length at 2.8. It makes for a prettier stitch and a little less bunching.

Sew the hem, whether on the right side or the other side, all the way around, pivoting at the corners. Then press both back and front again, and press into a 5-inch square.

Here's the finished result of the stitching, front and back

And here's the final stack of napkins, ready to be gifted! Hope Berta likes them!

 

My ankle is back!

This is a long process. But it hasn't been as long as it might be, thanks to an innovative surgeon and good bones.  The surgeon, who had performed more than 3000 of these same surgeries, said to me after mine, "for your age, you have very good bones." I am grateful.

Yesterday I graduated from cast to boot, 6 weeks into it. Yay! More freedom...showers can be taken without protective plastic, sometimes my leg and my foot can get fresh air.  OMG.

When I looked at my leg - 6 weeks under plaster and plastic - it was flaking skin in sheets. So dry. I washed it with zinc soap, good for bacteria, and soaked it in heavy-duty moisturizer and then coconut oil and let it absorb. More skin flaked off and I rubbed it with towels and more coconut oil before reapplying the orthopedic sock and the boot. Oh what luxury for my poor skin!

They said "wear the boot for two or three weeks, then try to fit into a shoe." Wow. That means in about two weeks I can wear a shoe. And walk in it. And then maybe I can drive (this is my right foot, so no driving until it is well).

Today I went to my beloved yoga instructor Domonick for a private lesson.  "Tell me what I can do to strengthen this leg and to maintain flexibility and heal." He created a wonderful program for me to follow for the next month or two until I can resume a regular practice.  Stretch. Strengthen. Be peaceful. Breath. Stretch. Strengthen. Heal. Thank you, and bless you, Domonick. Bless you, my leg.

Short story, I'm doing well, thank you. Tomorrow night we're going out to a club, but I might not dance yet.