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Welcome To Our Blog
On this Blog you will find articles about our activities and archives from 3 of the Guild's Web pages:
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Friday, July 1, 2016

Show & Tell / July- September 2016

Three Storied Rugs ! 

This is a selection of rugs from our September 2015 Exhibition, held at the Beaconsfield Library and at Centennial Hall.

Gnome by Muriel Wilson (1979)

Gnome Hooked By My Mother
Rug by Muriel Wilson - Story by Cathy Wilson

This rug was hooked in 1979 when my mother was a student of Lois's. She used #3 cut wool that she dyed herself at her rug hooking classes. My parents had a cottage in Vermont at that time and subscribed to Yankee Magazine. The idea to hook a Gnome came from the illustration on the cover of the Magazine. I started hooking with Judith when my mother no longer lived at home and resided in a group home where she received medical care. At each visit I would bring my Pig rug to show her, and at each of these visits she did a critique that was quite harsh at times. I hook primitives using #6 or #8 cut wool and don't pay attention to details as my mother did . Thus the criticism. After my mother passed away, my two sisters and I had lots of difficulty deciding who got what rug. We now proudly have her rugs displayed in our homes where we give our own “show and tell” to any guests who ask .

The Yellow House - Isabelle Rollin (2016)

The Yellow House
Isabelle Rollin
36” x 50”

This rug brings back fond memories of having lived in this house for 20 years. While trying to fit in most of the existing elements,  the landscape seemed to form itself around the house as I worked on it. I hooked this piece using #6 cut with recycled wool as found, so the hunt for colors was a challenge on its own. This happy rug hangs in our new home, and I am glad I made it with love for it gives back much joy.

Grampy's Oxwn Adventure - Carolyn Ells (2007)

Grampy’s Oxen Adventure
Carolyn Ells, 2007. #4 cut on linen.

I designed this rug from a photograph taken by my father in December 1972. We are in the Annapolis Valley, Nova Scotia, on my grandparents’ farm. My grandfather hitched his oxen to a wagon, loaded on four of us grandchildren, my father and a sharp axe, and we were off to chop down a Christmas tree. It was a slow plod for Lion and Bright up the dirt road, along the grassy edge of the field, to the woods. After a careful selection of a suitable Christmas tree, Grampy had us step back to a safe distance as he swung the axe. Soon after we were loaded back on the wagon with our prize, and the oxen took us back to the farmhouse to decorate it.