The History of Penny Rugs

Originally penny rugs were made from scraps of dark wool fabric or felt from used clothes and hats and were used as mats to clear mud and dirt off shoes.  They were named penny rugs as they were made of three different sized circular medallions layered on top of each other.  The top medallion was the size of a penny, though in the 1800’s pennies were larger than they are now.  Sometimes pennies were actually sewn into them to help weight them down and make them lay flat.

They were backed with burlap, heavy canvas, or recycled pants’ materials.  When a circle of wool on the rug wore out, it was replaced with another circle. These rugs were embellished with colorful wool yarns that were hand dyed using vegetable dyes.  Blanket stitches were sewn around each circular medallion, which added strength and durability, making them quite functional.

Penny rugs were strong enough to withstand being beaten with a rug beater to remove mud and dirt. Washing them was done infrequently, by hand in a tub, usually outside and then hung out to dry in the shade to prevent sun fading. 

Eventually penny rugs evolved into a traditional and colorful folk art. Women used their remnants and scraps of wool from making clothes, or “turned” wool from used clothes to make their penny rugs. They would use bits of material too small to be used for strips for hooked rugs.

Designs evolved from the simple circular medallions into colorful works of art with primitive appliquéd patterns of various animals, stars, hearts, flowers and other shapes. Personal and elaborate stories were communicated through them using designs that included people, their homes, various scenes and landscapes, thus transforming their scraps into wonderful works of art and story with elaborate stitching.

Decorative edging also became part of the art.  Scalloped edges or tabs cut in the shape of teardrops or tongues were added and many of these were decorated with appliquéd circles of wool using colorful blanket stitching.

Penny rugs have recently made a “comeback” and are used to cover beds for warmth and decoration; or to decorate table and mantel tops; decorative and colorful pillows; wall hangings or pictures or throws for the backs of sofas.  Variations of penny rug art have moved into quilt making as well, and almost every quilt show will have at least one wool penny rug style sampler.  They are both a delight to see as well as to create and sew!

Penny rugs should be kept out of direct sunlight as much as possible to avoid sun fading.  When not being used they should be rolled up, right side out, not folded as the fold may discolor and wear. Penny rugs may best be kept wrapped in a clean sheet to store them and NOT be stored in an airtight bag which can cause dry rot. It is now recommended that they be washed as little as possible and only spot cleaned with a damp sponge. If washed, use cool water and woolite and rinse well and lay flat to dry. (I like to use tape rollers on mine to remove dust and lint.)


Information compiled and summarized by Jane McMillen using the following references:
1) “Rug Hooking Tips/FAQ’s” http://www.paytonprimitive.com/rug-care.html
2) “Button Rugs have their roots dating back to the early 1800’s when they were called Penny Rugs.” http://www.clairemurray.com/PennnyRugs.cfm
3) “Old Time Rugs—Penny Rugs, Penny Rug Patterns” http://oldtimerugs.com
4) “The History of the Penny Rug Article 1” http://ezinearticles.com?The- History-of-the-Penny-Rug—Article-1&id=1641406
5) “History of a Penny Rug by Rag-a-Muffin Collectibles http://sites.google.com/site/ragamuffincollectibles/hsitoryofpennyrugs
6)“Penny rug” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pennyrug

New Scrap Bag Pincushions!

Some of you are asking about when there will be more wares up on Etsy, and I must answer you truthfully. My intentions are to quickly learn all the computer skills I need to be able to do this independently, but after The Brycer left, and all was in order and organized, I wildly pulled out my materials and gave into what I call “the creative moment”. 

I designed pincushions with attached scrap bags made out of felted wool.  I had bought one at a quilt show and in my head I had re-designed it many times over.  The one that I had bought had become my most frequently used pincushion at my small table in front of the TV as having an attached scrap bag is ever so handy.  

Starting with a pattern similar to the one that I had purchased, I began to alter it starting with changing the materials from cotton to felted wool. That was just the beginning to my alterations. I then changed the pincushion as well as the bag's design to make a bright colored Black-eyed Susan and then onto another more stylized flower and then onto a sort of muted, multi-colored, traditional Penny-Rug-styled flower and then yet another with one of my felted tweed wool and plain wool button style pincushions, and then re-designed coordinated bags to go with each one.

Although my family gave my first scrap bag pincushions a thumbs up, my daughter less than enthusiastically added, “more pincushions?”  Just the way she said it, I knew it to be a question, not a statement. I hate to admit that it didn't seem to matter to me that her tone was less than raving.  I have such a good time creating them!  I don’t want to tell her but there are still more pincushion designs floating in my head and crying out to be created.

I responded out loud to her question, “Yes, BUT…” and before I could defend my latest creation, I realized that I have done it again.  I have followed my heart and like a Johnny-one-note, created still more pincushions. I am, after all, known as The Pincushion Lady.  Some of you have started collecting my pincushions, and I am so glad, as it is important to me that each of my pincushions are adopted by loving homes, for each is created with love and takes on a unique personality of its own.



As I finish my scrap bag pincushions, I realize that they would also make a great home for a TV remote controller.  Mine always seems to be hiding, mostly between sofa cushions. I have created these pincushions with a rubber mesh on the underside to help them grip to any surface and the pincushion heavy enough to counter balance both a remote controller and a cell phone.  There is also a small pocket suitable for small scissors, thimble, a package of needles, or some other small treasure!

To collectors of my pincushions, I excitedly proclaim, “These are not my final pincushions”, but to my daughter, I add, “Yes, Hannah, there are many other creations in my head besides pincushions”. To all following my blog, items are slowly being posted onto the etsy page, so do keep your eyes peeled, and yes, there are many items besides pincushions coming!

A Tomato Is Born

While my readers patiently wait for me to learn the computer part of getting stuff up and into my store on Etsy, as well as entering my own blogs, I want to tell you why my large plump tomato pincushions are one of my favorite pincushions.

This is a true story and was written many years ago after we had moved from Denver, Colorado to Orwell, Vermont.  We were seeking a less stressful way of life, though little did we know that we were simply trading our stresses.  Leaving behind city ways, rush hour traffic, a job with good benefits, and cross bussing our kids for the purpose of racial equality for greener pastures literally, a rustic farmhouse and all that went with it, long beautiful commutes and many wonderful stories.  We are still in Vermont, but have since moved a couple of towns away, to a college town, where we have the best of both worlds.  We aren’t quite so rural, have some of the cultural opportunities that we had left behind, and are but twenty minutes from a small city that offers us what city folk need, jobs and a few more amenities than found at our local mom and pop small town shops.  Life is good!

The Tomato Farmer

I had no clue that I was to become a tomato farmer when we decided to move to The Old Wilcox Farm.  We had come from the city and were excited about our new life.  Not wanting to appear too green at country ways, I moved into the garden just as I had moved into the old farm house.  I first cleaned out the garden and then filled the space.  The garden was so huge compared to anything I had known in the city, that it didn’t matter what I put in it.  My only goal was to fill it.  I only wanted to appear to be a real country woman.  I found nothing wrong with buying my produce at the supermarket.  Besides, we were renting and our landlords should be made comfortable with our care of their house and land.

To my surprise I found pleasure sitting out on the ground in the garden playing in the dirt.  The garden overlooked the lower barn, pastures, and orchard, all surrounded  by woodland, a view that was breath taking.  The other advantage of this endeavor was that no one else was interested in joining me.  It appeared to be too much like work for my girls, and it soon became a place of refuge, a haven of my own.  It was a quiet place, with no bickering or demands.  Pulling weeds, I came to realize, was also therapeutic!  With every weed I pulled, came satisfaction, like eradicating evel from the world.  I filled my mind and heart with the spacious country view and air, so healthy and beautiful, so natural and right.

Then I got out my old seed box, full of seeds that I had dreamt of planting, for I had always been a farmer in my heart.  It was late enough in the season that I couldn’t be faulted if nothing came of my endeavors.  And so I pulled weeds and planted by seeds.  Although I had many seeds, I found that there was still three fourths of the garden empty when I had finished.  Needing more therapy, I then decided to fill the rest of the garden with the small tomato seedlings growing wild to the side of the garden.  They were the result of my landlord cleaning out her root cellar.  She had thrown out her spoiled produce from the harvest of the year before.  Then I planted and planted and planted the small tomato plants that I later counted and counted and counted.  There were ninety-five in all.

The rain came along with sun, and then more rain and sun and my seeds grew, though the real success were the tomato plants.  They grew and grew and grew!  At last our garden had become the envy of every gardener.  We not only had impressed our landlords, but any who came to our farm visit or work.  We hadn’t a clue what we were doing, but the garden became our joy.

The little plants spread and grew into tomato trees.  Their fruit was bountiful and voluptuously large. Though squeamish about bugs and worms, the tomato plants became like pets and I found myself picking off tomato bugs.  Forgetting that I didn’t have my garden gloves on, I would pull off gross, disgusting intruders.  They too were fat and healthy, like the fruit they wanted to feast upon.  I was not about to have my little pets violated.  I would be their loyal protector!

I still had not realized that I had a tomato orchard and was a true farmer!

I defended my crop and was becoming a real country woman, complete with dirt beneath my nails. Though my produce had true monetary value, for they were not just beautiful, but organic as well, I invested my wealth in our landlords, and neighbors and gained the respect and acceptance of our local Vermont village, not usually open to “flat-landers” like ourselves, though we had come from the mile-high city and our mountains bigger than these wonderfully green hills.  Tomatoes were given away by the bag and box full, along with our bumper crop of pumpkins.

 At Christmas, I received a special gift of honor from my landlord, a true tribute to my tomatoes, that then filled my pantry shelves as well as filled my freezer: a lovely ceramic tomato dish.  This is not just a dish to me, but a true trophy to commemorate my days of being a tomato farmer.  With it came a note saying it reminded her of my tomatoes, that were like none she or I had ever seen before.  I must give credit where it is due, for they had been hers and were no ordinary tomato plants.  They were the largest and beefiest tomatoes and I was a real tomato farmer!

This story is dedicated to Debbie K. of Bar Harbor, Maine, our landlord and friend.  It was by her country garden inspiration that my first tomatoes grew and now my over-sized, plump tomato pincushions.