How to Make: Heat Socks

I promised you a post on heat socks, so here it is, even though I'd rather blog about yesterday. The day dawned dreary, but that was beside the point. I got a good night's sleep, Julia was home, and my daughters watched the baby while I went to my church for Bible Study. We're not studying the Bible though. Instead, we're going through a quiet little book by Ruth Haley Barton called Sacred Rhythms.

After hearing Ruth's teaching about Elijah in the wilderness, and the time and the solitude he needed in order to be restored, we had a half hour of silence. Silence. No music. No chit-chat.

I found it so difficult to be still, and focus my thoughts, and enjoy the calm. I wanted to check my phone.

Then we met as a small group. I already love my group.

I appreciate studies at my church, because we are trained to listen without interrupting. This discipline is good for both the talker and for the listeners. It's so restful to know you are going to be allowed to finish your thoughts. And it is relaxing when you know, as a listener, that no response is needed. Just listening is all that is required.

But maybe you want to know how to make heat socks. You will need:

Cotton fabric, about 1/2 a yard (ticking works well)
Feed corn (I get mine at the Anoka Feed Store on 2nd Avenue)
Lavender, if you like

My current heat sock is about 18" x 10". I also have two others that are smaller. At times, I have one on my sore shoulder, one on my sore sciatic nerve, and one draped over my sore left ankle. It's a sad creaky mess I'm getting to be.

Directions:
Cut fabric to desired size, two equal pieces (about 10"x18" is great for feet).
Place right sides together.
Stitch around three sides, about 1/2 inch from edge (both long sides and one of the short sides),
leaving one short side open.
Zig-zag around the sewn edges to limit fraying.
Turn fabric right-side out.
Fill bag with feed corn. (Fill bag halfway. That's about 4 or 5 cups of corn for a large heat sock). You will want to sift the corn through your fingers a bit to get out the chaff.
If you like, add about a tablespoon of lavender.
Turning raw edges inward, stitch the open end of the bag shut.

To heat the sock:

Place in the microwave for about two minutes. My big sock takes three minutes, but do not let your sock burn. If you do, the whole house will smell awful and you'll have to cast the sock outside to get rid of the odor.

Sometimes I crawl wearily into bed with my cuddly little baby and my array of heat socks, and it's all so wonderful that I don't mind winter one bit. Especially when I wake up with Malachi at one in the morning and the sock is still warm.

(Many thanks to my sister Joanie, who did the research on sock fillers years ago and discovered feed corn was the best option. You are such a handy dandy sister).

Make and Mend

"The secret of life is patch patch patch." (Anne Lamott)

Something about these cold gray days makes me want to make stuff.
I love to make stuff. It's so gratifying to take iffy materials and create something useful and beautiful.
I don't like to sew, but for some reason sewing produces the best results.
My machine is broken, so these days I'm sewing at Nate's folks' house. That works out well, because I have extra people around to ride herd on the baby so I can get to work.
These pillows were made from the 100-year-old French grain sack that I found at Junk Bonanza. It was from the UberChic booth, the guys who bring a trailer from Utah and almost sell out on the first day. By the time I saw their space, almost all the furniture was gone. What remained was a table piled with French and German grain sacks. I only had $20, so Chris let me have this wonderful old textile at a discount. The original price was $25.

I still can't believe I bought something with red in it.
I don't normally allow any red in my house at all.
Once you let red in, it tends to take over.
 

I couldn't decide whether to let these old patches show. In the end, they stayed on the inside.

This patch is on the back of the pillow, but I can see it and wonder, Who repairs a grain sack? Maybe somebody who grew the flax and wove it by hand? Such respect.

 

This is how I decided to display the pillows. The front one is backwards, because that side is more interesting.

The corner of our dining room, when I was undecided about which pillow side I preferred.
I like things very simple. So I'm going to have to simplify that photo cabinet in the corner. It's full of family pictures, especially ones of our big boys. Since we miss them, I'm in no hurry to take away their pictures.

My other project this week (okay, I had totally forgotten how HARD it is to get anything done with a toddler in the house!) was Malachi's whale shirt.
This should have taken mere minutes, but because of my broken sewing machine, I had to stitch it on by hand. I love how it turned out. Whales, lobsters, sails and anchors: anything nautical is my favorite these days. But there's another color I don't like: navy. Everything navy does, black can do better. Except on baby boys. With this little guy, I'm on the hunt for navy nautical clothes. However, this whale needed to be gray. Ah gray. A lovely color.

Julia and Malachi under the locust tree.

To make the shirt:
Find a cheap white shirt or onesie (this was new from the consignment store).
Draw a whale. I copied one from another outfit.
Trace it onto two-sided transfer web, cut it out.
Iron the non-paper side of the whale onto your fabric.
Cut the fabric, using the web paper as your guide.
Peel off the paper backing of the transfer web.
Stick onto the shirt, iron into place.
Stitch around the outside with zigzag (or in my case, laboriously by hand).

Look who can walk!
Once he gets outside, he never wants to come in.
If we leave him alone in the entryway, he escapes to the outdoors.

So that was my week. I have spent a lot of time praying for my three big college-age kids as they endure midterms. I hope this finds you thankful, as I am, for the seasons of life. Even on hard days, we are growing and changing, being mended and being made into something useful and beautiful. All for Jesus.

A little gift for your day: one of my favorite songs from Ben Kyle. Listen to it here.