small things

I signed up for the Gocco Swap on impulse.  It is hard to resist the promise of 11 people’s inspired work arriving in my mailbox.  The problem was finding my own inspiration.

The theme of the swap is one.  One image?  One color?  One print per person?  It was up to each of us to decide.  Having always loved broadsides (and lacking any drawing skills) I decided to print some text.  A not-so-broad broadside.

I looked through multiple books of poetry, but nothing felt quite right.  Alas, sometimes inspiration is right in front of one’s nose.  In my case, it was hanging on the kitchen bulletin board.  Rising to the top of the visual noise of the board was a quote the hubby pinned up a while ago.   I don’t know about you, but it is a sentiment I need to be reminded of regularly.

Thanks to Hubby for finding the inspiring words and for being the ever-patient font master.

Summer Skirt

Skirts are an essential in my summer wardrobe.  The other day, I was wearing one that I made a few years ago.  It is a simple bias cut a-line, made from fabric I brought back from Hawaii.  Since it was sewn for a pre-baby #3 body shape, I decided I could use another similar skirt with a little added room around the waist.  I pulled out the pattern pieces and made some adjustments.  I’m sure my method of alteration was not the recommended way, but it seems to have worked.

As much as I love my skirts, I have noticed a severe deficit of pockets in the skirts I own.  I decided to add some in-seam pockets to my new skirt.  Here’s where I really went off the map.  I drafted a piece that seemed okay and added the appropriate seam allowance.  After sewing one side, I realized that the pockets weren’t deep enough.  Hello, seam ripper!  I have a love-hate relationship with my seam ripper.  Love that I have it.  Hate how often I use it.

Anyway, I was about to throw in the towel and sew it up without pockets, but girded my loins and tried again.  Success!  Next time, I might research the proper way to do in-seam pockets, since mine seem a little bulky.  Regardless of the bulk, I do love having pockets.

As for the hem, I took a cue from Liesl’s Lazy Days skirt pattern.  Instead of ribbon, I used a wide, single fold bias tape.  Makes for a far more even and cleaner hem than I tend to get by measuring and ironing and measuring and ironing.

I’m guessing there are more of these in my near future.

Sewing Japanese

Last summer, my parents traveled to Los Angeles to visit relatives.  Traditionally, they send us a box of various Japanese and Hawaiian foodstuffs, that are often hard to find in Middle America.  This time, in addition to boxes of Kauai Cookies and Japanese candy, I put in the request for a Japanese sewing book.

Mom came through with a book of super cute clothes for both girls and boys.  (Perhaps a hint that The Boy is getting the short end of the stick regarding my sewing projects?)  I’ve spent many hours looking through the pages and making a long mental list of projects I want to try.  A few weeks ago, I finally worked up the courage to trace a pattern.  Of course, the first time I traced it I forgot to include the seam allowance.  For all the clever, cute and wonderful things that Japan produces, you’d think they could include the seam allowances in the patterns.

Anyway, I finally got the pattern traced properly and decided on fabric.  I had ordered a few yards of this fabric from Jenean a while back to make Big Girl a new dress for Easter.  I ended up finishing a different dress for her instead, so I knew I wanted to use some of the fabric for this project.

I chose the pattern because it looked simple but, simple isn’t always easy.  At least when you are trying to follow a pattern written in a different language.  One of my problems is that I read just enough Japanese to confuse myself, but not enough to really follow the directions.  This is a source of great annoyance to me.  I majored in Japanese language in college.  I was always too self-conscious to speak really well, but writing and reading were always my strength.  I guess after 14 years of not practicing, skills do tend to atrophy.  *sigh*

After some time with a stack of Japanese reference books, I finally gave up on reading the pattern.  I was able to fudge my way through and ended up with a wearable product.  Fortunately, the parts I really botched aren’t visible and I doubt Baby Girl is going to complain.

Playing with Sticks

Wednesday was the first day of summer vacation. Let’s just say, the kids and I were off to a rocky start. That night, after some tears (mine), the hubby and I came up with a plan. Stopping short of a rigid schedule, we drafted a check list of tasks for the kids to do each day. Everything from “get dressed” to S.Q.U.I.R.T. (super quiet uninterrupted independent reading time — acronym borrowed from school).

Arts and crafts time was included in the afternoon. Soon after lunch on Thursday, The Boy asked if it could be arts and crafts time. “Sure, what do you want to do?” He responded, “can you teach me to knit?” Twist my arm. I ran upstairs to grab a pair of needles and some leftover yarn. I cast on for him and showed him how to make the knit stitch, while reciting the rhyme:

In through the front door,
run around the back,
peek through the window,
and off jumps jack

With minimal coaching, he was off and knitting. I watched him for a bit, but soon felt free to putter around elsewhere. Occasionally, I was summoned back to help with a problem, but for the most part he did very well. I could hear him from the kitchen, reciting the rhyme as he knit.

Before dinner, I found him sitting in the backyard with his knitting. “It’s such a nice day, I thought it would be nice to knit outside.”

A boy after his mama’s heart.

Sparkly Sewing

I’ve discovered the danger of sewing for my children – word gets around.  Back in early March, I got a call from a teacher at the kids’ school.  My first thought was, “uh-oh, what has the Boy done now?”  It quickly dawned on me that this was not his teacher.  Nor was it one of Big Girl’s teachers.  The teacher then asked if I might be interested in helping with costumes for the school play.  With a small sigh of relief, I replied, “Sure, I’d be happy to help!

Immediately following my answer of yes, it occurred to me that I would inevitably be sewing with materials I would normally avoid like the plague.  Call me a fiber snob, but I would rather poke my eye out with a stick than sew with most synthetic fabric.

Let’s be clear, ours is not the kind of school that puts on a production of Our Town or anything established like that.  A new play is written each year with the kids’ (grades 5-8) input.  Parts are crafted with particular kids in mind.  The themes of the play reflect current events, with overarching themes of justice, hope and “kid power”.  It is really exciting and uplifting, but agreeing to sew costumes was a bit of a leap into the great unknown.

In mid-March, I attended the brainstorming session for costumes.  The teacher who writes the play gave an overview of the characters and the rest of the teachers, staff and volunteers, started tossing around ideas for suitable costumes.  Some of the costumes are already on hand.  Some are alterations of existing costumes.  Others get made from scratch.

My assignment?  Glamorous starfish.  Red and sparkly.

A few different ideas were tossed around at the meeting.  I went looking for a pattern that would approximate what I had in mind.  It took me several weeks to work up the courage to buy the fabric.   Ten yards of red sparkly fabric is a big commitment.

With less profanity than I expected, I whipped up 4 of these babies:

Admittedly, you have to use your imagination to get to starfish, but they’ve got glamor in spades.

Last night was opening night and I have to say, the girls looked pretty fabulous on stage.  (I didn’t get any pictures.)  Based on the heaping helpings of praise I’ve received for these retina-burning babies, I have a feeling that I am in this for the long haul.  Only 11 or 12 years until Baby Girl graduates 8th grade. 

UFOs and DPNs

I am typically a pretty monogamous knitter.  One project on the needles until it is finished.  Every once in a while I get stuck and that project gets tucked into my basket to languish.  I knew there was a sweater for the Big Girl buried deep in the basket.  I hadn’t looked at it for at least a year and was figuring I’d rip it out and find another use for the yarn.  I’m not certain it will even fit her at this point.  Nevertheless, during my recent hunt for a project, I  rescued it from the depths and discovered  I was farther along than I remembered.  Just have the sleeves and button bands to knit.  Since I can’t remember the reason I put it aside, I decided to finish it.  Baby Girl can wear it in a couple years.   I will not let this UFO (unfinished object) taunt me any longer.

I grabbed the sweater, the pattern and my DPN roll and figured I was good to go.  Have you seen my DPN collection?

I have every size from 0 to 13.  Or so I thought.  Turns out, the one size I am missing is the size called for in the pattern.  Hmmm, maybe that’s why I put it aside in the first place.

My first instinct was to run to my favorite yarn shop and buy the missing needles.  I stopped myself and channeled my cheap frugal hubby.  At first I tried the Magic Loop method with a relatively long size 9 circular.  Then I remembered my Denise interchangeable set and decided two circulars would suit me better.  At least until I break down and go fill in the gap in my needle roll.

B.D.I.T.W.

The Boy was diagnosed with strep throat on Monday.  He started his antibiotics, but couldn’t go to school Tuesday, since it hadn’t been the requisite 24 hours.  Hubby stayed home and they spent the day painting part of the coop, working in the garden and playing board games together.

At one point The Boy asked, “Daddy, do you know what B.D.I.T.W. stands for?”

“Umm, I don’t know.”

“Best Dad in the world.”

To think, this is the same child I was ready to ship to boarding school last week.

And there I was, with nothing to knit…

For Mother’s Day two years ago, Abby and I ditched the families and went to Shepherd’s Harvest Festival. (There is no rule that says a mother needs to spend the whole of Mother’s Day with her children, is there?)

So much fiber. So little money. I resisted so much beautiful yarn. Really. You should be impressed. Alas, I couldn’t leave empty-handed. That would be rude.  I came home with a hank of lace weight suri alpaca from Little Gidding Farm.  Given how much time I stood at the booth fondling all the hanks, I felt it was the right thing to do.

I pondered what to knit with it, but eventually the hank found a home in my bin o’ yarn.  It was pulled out, petted and admired on more than one occasion, but I was saving it.  Saving it for what?  Apparently, I was saving it for inspiration.

Last week, I met friends for tea and knitting, but showed up with nothing to knit.  The two women I was with stared at me uncomprehendingly when I said I didn’t have anything in the queue.  In an attempt to jump-start my knitting mojo, I spent some time on Ravelry and came up with a couple potential projects.  Unfortunately, I am woefully short on money to purchase yarn for those projects.

Plan B:  survey what I own.  I went digging through my stash.  Mind you, the bulk of my stash is leftovers from completed projects.  Single skeins.   Partial skeins.  Two, at the most.  Eventually, I pulled out the lovely hank of alpaca and *voila* I was inspired.

The pattern:  Easy Flame Lace Scarf from Knit and Tonic

The pattern is very easy to remember and I can even knit and talk at the same time.  Very important for future knitting with friends.

Logic Problem

On the way home from daycare:
Baby Girl : Where we goin’?
Mommy: Home.
Baby Girl: NO! Not home. Where we goin’?
The Boy: Grandma’s son’s house.

Owie

Baby Girl sums it up best:  “One mine baby chickens has a owie on her leg”.

One of our chicks has injured her leg. We don’t know what happened, but her hock (the joint) is swollen, the shank (the lower part of the leg) is at a wonky angle and her foot is kind of floppy.  Reminds me a little of when the hubby dislocated his shoulder, but with significantly less swearing.

She is kind of the runt of the brood, so we moved her into her own space so the other girls wouldn’t pick on her.  Before we moved her, they were walking all over her, literally.  She gets around surprisingly well by hopping on the good leg.  There is a lot of balancing with her wings and occasionally putting down her hock to right herself (I’m guessing that is not helping with the swelling).  Otherwise, she keeps that leg up, but is still eating, drinking and pooping regularly.

So, here is our dilemma.  Do we wait and see if she improves on her own?  Is there something we can do to help fix it?  Do we loosen the purse strings and take her to the vet?  From similar-sounding cases I’ve read about, the responses have run the gamut.  At the very least, I can say with certainty that we aren’t willing to put her down.  She has a much gentler temperament than some of the other gals, which seems an especially desirable trait while being raised around kids.