Not Dead...

No, I am not dead. Nor injured. Or trapped under something heavy. Just can't believe that two full months have passed by me already. Such is the life.

Hoping to do one of the following in the new year;

a) Blog more

b) Get real and give up the blog

My preference is for a, but we shall see.

Anyhow, if you're still out there, have a very happy holiday, stay safe and enjoy. We here at the Workshop wish you and yours a great new year.

Stay cool y'all, I'll be back soon.

Until later...

The Imperceptible Beep of Terror...

My dog and I have a complicated relationship. For convenience sake, you could say it's love-hate, with each of us feeling both emotions in equal measure. I don't think I was well suited for being a large dog owner and Hank wasn't well suited for...well...not much of anything.

Hank's major issue is that he is a bundle of nerves. He's nervous. Of everything. Most of the time. Well, in the house he's alright. But that's about it. Which is why he lives a cloistered life, since his introduction to new people, scenarios, enviornments, has largely been met with ultimate disaster.

It's not an ideal situation for any of us, but it is what it is, and we work it out as best we can. We have an equilibrium that seems to be enough for now. I've come to accept that this is the best we can hope for.

Sometimes though, you just have to shake your head at some of the stuff he pulls. Par example; my husband and I were watching tv the other night in our livingroom, where Hank is usually a fixture in the evenings. An entire hour had gone by, a show completed, when it dawned on me that Hank was nowhere to be found. Very unlike him to just wander off to another part of the house on his own...unless he's up to something (like, oh I dunno, barfing in our bedroom or leaving a calling card in my craft room).

I got up, checked the hallway, called out for him and then it dawned on me. The door to the downstairs bathroom, because of the unlevel floor, swings closed on it's own unless pushed all the way open where the bottom corner will catch on the floor. This has happened before. What makes him go in there, I don't know, but I went and pushed the door open only to find a sheepish faced Hank staring back at me from the darkened bathroom. I just shook my head and gave him a little pat. A whole hour. And not even a whine.

Just a few nights ago, I was getting ready to go to bed. Hank, who's usually underfoot while I'm on the couch, followed me upstairs as I started my evening routine. Change, go to the washroom, bed, light off, unconcious. Off to the washroom I went when suddenly, this 100 lb + German Shepherd breaks in (door must have only been ajar) and attempts not only to get under my legs but actually behind the toilet. He frustrates me at the best of times, but this was a violation of privacy and personal space that I just could not tolerate at nearly midnight.

My entreaties to get him to leave were unsuccessful, so I just simply left, wherein my big scary black dog followed as close to me as humanly possible back to the bedroom. Something was up. He was being weird. I climbed into bed and Hank decided that he'd do the same. Which is a big no-no. He's never been allowed on the bed...ever. Just not the kind of habit you want to get into with a 100 + lb dog with dominance and authority issues. But he was insistent. I can't get physical with him, cuz he'll get physical right back (with his teeth) so my only hope was that he would obey my commands and get the hell off my bed. He did. But then got right back up. So I did the only thing I could think of. I kicked him out of my room, put the baby gate across the stairs and called my police officer husband who was on duty to bitch about how weird our dog was.

I must admit that I was getting a little freaked out by his behaviour. Something was spooking him and it was starting to spook me. If someone were lurking around, he wouldn't hesitate to let me know, but this was something else entirely. So I called my husband. While I'm on the phone, the dog is trying to climb over the baby gate at the top of the stairs. Which has now woken my daughter. And is pissing me off to no end.

So I put him in his crate, which is in our room. At which time he starts pawing and chewing on the wire. Now I'm really at the point of WTF. What do I do with this dog who won't settle down? I'm not doing a perimeter check at this time of night. Wait, I know someone with a flashlight AND a gun. Maybe I can persuade him to check things out. I call him back and ask him to swing by to see if there's anything in or around our yard.

I let the dog out and we're standing in the hallway when all of a sudden, I hear it. It's faint, ever so faint, but I hear it. *beep* In that instant, it all becomes crystal clear.

My heart softens. I offer words of comfort to this pathetic creature, of whom so many of my friends are afraid. 'It's alright buddy,' I say. 'I'll fix it.'

I grab the step stool from the next room and climb up to check the smoke detector in the hallway. Hank trys to climb up my leg. Wait, no battery. That can't be it. I hear it again.

*beep*

I call my husband again. "Where are you?"
"I'm right outside."
"Can you check the smoke detector in the apartment please? I think the battery is dying."

Early on in Hank's life, the smoke detectors, particularly the one just off our kitchen, left a traumatic mark on his psyche. They are super sensitive, so much so that just setting the oven to 400 or above would set them off. You can visibly see whatever mental fortitude Hank can muster crumble under the weight of an errant smoke detector. His eyes wild, his breathing laboured, the poor animal simply cannot cope. And I think even more difficult for him to deal with than the actual smoke alarm going off is the intermitent *beep* of a dying battery.

Remember, this is coming from a dog who doesn't know any better than to poop uphill.

Long, unecessary story short, my own personal constable on call saved the day, I explained to Hank that we got it all sorted out and that he could calm down now. He uttered a huge sigh of relief and then promptly let his entire body weight just fall to the ground, as is his way of lying down. Usually body checking the bed in the process. There he would remain, snuggled up on my side of the bed, as he always does, until morning, wherein I will figure out how to step over a massive, sleeping pile of dog and our little dance will start all over again.

I have to go have a little chat with him now. He's outside trying to catch crows.

*sigh*

Until later...

Dead Rat...

Are you like this? You think a line from a movie is amusing, so it gets stuck in your vocabulary for a while? Around those closest to you, it becomes an in-joke, a common phrase you throw around.

Well, one of little A's favourite movies is A Bug's Life. There's a scene in the movie when Flick has just arrived in the bug city and there's this millipede that's essentially a city bus, being driven by another bug. The bus driver calls out a series of stops as the bugs are boarding and he ends with '....and Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad Rat.' I don't know who started it, us or her, but either way, my wee girl now goes running around, randomly shouting out 'Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad Rat.' We think it's hilarious, but I'm just waiting for the day when she does it in public and someone asks me, 'Did she just say...Dead Rat?' For now, she's too busy announcing to the wide world when she's successfully used the washroom in public, so I think I'm safe for a while.

So the summer is gone. Just like that, over. Even the weather seems to have gotten the memo. It was a beautiful long weekend, wherein I holed myself up in our spare bedroom to get it painted and cleaned in prep. for company coming this month. Two full days and once I was done, the weekend was over and the sun was gone, only to be replaced by the grey cool and damp moniker of fall.

Le sigh.

We had a nice summer. It's never long enough though. We had the grandparents visiting for two weeks in August, which little A thoroughly enjoyed, then we went on a little family vacation of our own to Cape Breton.

This is us, being all family-like and having a good time.

More company is coming this month, which I'm really looking forward to. My BFF is coming and bringing her wee baby girl, whom I can't wait to hold and snuggle. That is, if little A allows it. She seems to have collided head on into the terrible two's and it's making me a little nuts. I thought teenage girls were emotionally unstable. They've got nothing on her.

But you're here to see knitting I suppose. Time for a little catch-up.

Our knitting group did a little KAL with Elizabeth Zimmerman's Baby Surprise Jacket. I tried this pattern out a few years ago, and it made zero sense to me, so I put it away and scoffed at the 15 000+ people who seemed to have figured it out. To be honest, I couldn't see what all the fuss was about. I didn't think it was quite as cute as everyone was gushing about. Then one of our members made one and I got to see and hold it in person. It was itty-bitty and adorable. She also de-mystified the pattern by letting slip that the seam was at the top of the sweater, whereas I was of the belief it was at the underarm. So I decided to give it another go. And voila, sweater achieved. I will admit, it is an addictive little knit.

Also finished my August socks for my Self Imposed Sock Club. I don't think it shows up in the photo, but this is the Berroco metallic/shiny yarn. It sparkles. It's beguiling. Or I'm simple. Either way.

I also made a hat a while back, a slouchy sock yarny one, and it's actually making me kind of glad that the weather is getting cooler, because I really like wearing it. And I've decided that at 33, if I haven't got a hairstyle by now, then I'm giving up. This summer I found a head band that actually stays on my head and I don't think I've taken it off since I bought it. Head bands and slouchy hats...problem solved. Now if only bathrobes were a socially acceptable mode of dress, I'd be all set. It dawned on me this morning that I should probably do some fall shopping for myself. Ugh. I hate shopping. Maybe I'll get my arse in gear and actually go to the city rather than resort to Reitmans, the only option around here. Oh how I loathe Reitmans. And yet my closet is stocked full of it. Anyhow...I could do a whole post on how pathetic my wardrobe is.

Well, I managed to get through almost a whole post melt-down free. Back to reality. Until later...

Ahhhhhhhh....

That would be a contented sigh of relief.

My little weekend project is complete and I know have a shiny new(ish) toy storage solution.

While I was working away on it, I had another idea.

Either side of this cabinet was just begging for some sort of clever upgrade. At first I thought chalkboard, but then I remembered that this was going in my livingroom and I didn't necessarily want to encourage chalk use near my furniture or carpet (we've already had one incident that I'd rather not repeat). So I went with magnets. Here's how the primer went on. Black. I was a little worried that the white wouldn't cover it.

But it did. And it works. Not great, but it works. The magnetic force is pretty weak, but it serves it's purpose. I'll just get heavier duty magnets if we plan to put up pictures or anything like that. For now, for her number and letter and animal magnets, it works just fine. They say that every coat of the magnetic primer increases the magnetic strength and the directions recommended three coats, which is what I did. Before the top coat the strength was pretty good, but after two top coats of the white, it was weaker. Since the topcoat covered as well as it did, if there is a next time with the primer (which there likely will be...I barely used any of it) I'll do more coats.

Total cost of this project; $24.99 for the magnetic primer. That's it. Everything else I had on hand (including the handy-man to cut the plywood shelves for me). Once it was all assembled and complete, I thought of a couple of other improvements. 1) Some funky contact paper for the shelves and 2) maybe some curtains for the front. So there I'd need the paper and a curtain rod. I'm sure I could find some fabric in my stash that would do.

Anyhoo, glad to have that out of the way. Onto the next project.

Until later...

Someday...

Someday I will be able to start and complete a project without interruption.

Someday I will no longer have tools adorning my living space (like the air compressor that has lived in the landing upstairs for over a year) and I won't have to pass it off as 'reno chic'.

Somday my husband will work a nine to five kind of shift and we'll see him more.

Someday this house will be done. I might not be living here by that time, but it'll be done.

Someday my daughter will understand the concept of 'I'm on the phone.' Probably not until that becomes important to her though. I think when she's a teen, I'll stand by her and pester her with questions, insist I need to use the washroom THISVERYSECOND or, ya know, just scream for no reason.

Someday she won't shove the last wedge of her banana in her mouth all at once only to spit it out again seconds later in a choking panic. Seriously, how many times does one need to do this to realize maybe I shouldn't do that anymore?

Someday I'll read a book again.

Until then, I'll satisfy myself with getting things done at a snails pace. Remember this dresser? Well, I didn't end up taking an axe to the whole thing, just the drawers. No seriously. It sat in our shed for the longest time, then finally, in the spring, when we were doing a big clean-up, my husband brought me the sledgehammer and said 'It's time.'

By then, my rage had quieted and I thought to myself, 'well, it ain't all bad.' We stood there, contemplating, discussing, and suddenly, an idea dawned. So I took the drawers out and off to the burn pile we went, sledgehammer in tow. I smashed the hell out of the drawers and man, did that ever feel good.

I got out the orbital sander one afternoon and went to town. I wasn't overly concerned with getting it right down to being totally bare, but just wanted to rough up the finish enough that it would take a coat of paint. I managed to get most of the finish off, except for the really fine, tricky spots.

Yesterday I did manage to get two coats of primer on it (in between potty breaks and lunch and filling up the water table and chasing after an AWOL toddler on deck and getting out her own paints so she would be less fixated on 'helping' me paint) and I think it's really starting to take shape. Now I'm just waiting on the constable to cut me some plywood shelves to fit into the drawer slots and I can put a couple of finish coats on it and it'll be done. The master plan you ask? Toy storage. Small house + livingroom x complete toy takeover = loss of sanity and visual clutter. Bins and baskets on the floor were a good solution when she wasn't as mobile, but now that she's up and about and much more able to get things out on her own, I think this is going to work well. Shelves, with some baskets or boxes, will, I hope, be much neater and more efficient.

Speaking of painting, here is the artist at work.

These were just cheapo-filipo paints I picked up who knows where. I think it's time for finger paints.

She really immerses herself in her work.

OH, and in other exciting news (well, exciting to me), I grew a cucumber :)

Of the four tomato plants and one cuke plant I have on the deck, this is my first harvest. We had some last night...very tasty. Much tastier than the ones from the supermarket. I've got lots of tomatoes coming now, and about a dozen more cukes on the vine, so I'm looking forward to an August full of fresh veg. This gardening experiment has gone rather well, so the constable and I are planning a plot for next year.

Well, I should go figure out something to do on a rainy day. Anyone else panicking that it's practically August and that means summer is almost over? No? Just me? Alright then.

Until later...

'A' List Crafts...

We've had a few rainy days around here this summer and on those days, I've been trying my hand at doing a few more crafts with miss A.

It is with a bit of shame that I must admit that I've been very lax on the craft front with her. In my defence though, really, up to this point, I think she's been a wee bit on the young side. I couldn't see much point in delving into a craft project where she wouldn't be able to at least partially participate.

During the school year, I take her to Storytime at the library, a free program for pre-school aged kids. There's stories, songs and a craft. While A is kind of hot and cold about participating in the first two, she's adamant in her enthusiasm for the latter. We've brought home untold pipe-cleaner/paper bag/paper plate/construction paper creations. It was sort of eating at me though, that here I am, a self-proclaimed craft enthusiast myself and yet I wasn't holding my own when it came to crafts with my wee girl.

About a week ago or so, on a rainy morning, I finally broke out all the little empty toilet paper rolls I had been saving up, the coloured pipe cleaners and the tote full of other assorted craft miscellany. We made bugs. I forgot to catalogue the experience. To sum up, there was a Mommy Bug, a Daddy Bug and an Avery Bug. Then I took a Premium Plus cracker box and made a bug house (re: cut a door in one side). She was quite content with those for an entire afternoon. Those and the Popsicle stick people I made. Here's the tutorial; take some craft Popsicle sticks and Sharpie. Draw faces and clothes on the sticks. Watch your kid go ape shit over them. Feel like a crafting genius. In that instance, there was a mommy, daddy and two Avery 'poppa sticks'.

Anyhow, today I decided to take all of the little bits of broken and de-labeled crayon and make new crayons. I have seen this on the web a few times in a few different places. So I broke up and sorted the bits.



I don't think the sorting step is actually necessary but ya know, this is just how I roll.



Spray a mini muffin tray with some veg spray and let your kiddo fill up the cups.



Take a moment to admire her handy work.



Pop the tray in a 275 degree oven for 7-8 minutes until just melted. Allow to cool for a bit and then put the tray in the freezer to help the solidifying process along. If you leave them there for as long as it takes you to do a sink full of dishes, that should be plenty.



Once the little pucks are hardened, they pop out quite easily...



...and are as much fun to stack as they are to draw and colour with.

Overall, a successful craft. Here's why I liked it; it was quick, easy, I had everything I needed on hand and little A could do it with me. I also like the waste not, want not aspect to it. It seemed a shame to throw out all those little crayon bits and now we have 24 new crayon pucks :) Other suggestions out there for doing this are to use cookie cutters or candy molds to create different shapes. I think next time I'll try and come up with an option that would make the new crayons a more crayon or pencil like shape as I think those might be a little bit easier to use. Either way, a very cool and practical idea. Gotta love those.

Until later...

She Hate Handknits...

I think it's one of my life's cruel ironies that none of the people I live with likes my hand knits.

I've been saying for a while now how much my daughter despises what I make for her. I think it's become kind of a joke, and frankly, I'm not sure anyone took me all that seriously. I would lament at knit night...well, not so much lament as just state the fact...that I can't get within two feet of her with a garment that I've toiled over long and hard. Example; I knit her a cute little cropped ballet bolero for her birthday which she refused to put on, even for a photo. Believe me, I begged, I pleaded, I bribed. No dice. I was relating this story to the other moms who came to little A's birthday party this past March with their little ones and once I was out of the room, they tried their hand at getting her into it. As I was fussing over the cake, I heard a wail come from the living room. I return to investigate, only to find three sheepish looking grown women who are giggling and admit to me they tried to put the sweater on her themselves.

One of the theories proposed for her strong opposition at my knitting group when discussion of this has come up is that I ruined her by bringing her home from the hospital in cashmere. I set the bar too high. I keep trying though.



I mistakenly thought that smooshy bubble gum pink knee socks would win her over. As you can plainly see, I was sorely mistaken. If looks could kill, etc. etc.

I have to admit, this breaks my heart a little bit. And it doesn't stop with things I've knit for her. She's actually yelled at me to take things off that I've knit for myself. I was proudly parading my most recent FO, the shawl from the previous post and she stood in the middle of the hallway, little pointer finger firmly extended and barked, 'No Mommy. You take that off.'

Did I mention she's a bit of a bossy pants? Last night at dinner she's eating her spaghetti and had eaten up all of her fresh grated parm cheese. She turns to me, brow furrowed, hands on hips and demands, in no uncertain terms, 'I want more cheese.' Oh yeah? Well, I want a million dollars. Lets see how likely either of us is to get what we want.

I shouldn't say that no one here likes my hand knits. My husband has worn the hat I've made him a few times, goes straight for the hand knit socks when he's feeling sick (he says they make him feel better) and did admire the felted slippers, but found they didn't fit very well and have since been abandoned. And I bet if Hank weren't a walking sweater himself, he would gladly and proudly wear anything I made for him. That's the story I'm telling myself at least.

Anyhow, back to the pink socks. So inspired to finish the second one at this point. I've asked her if she would help me out with modelling some recent FO's. We'll see how that photo shoot turns out.

Until later...

Gripped...

As a knitter or crafter, does this ever happen to you? A project seizes you, sinks it's teeth in and won't let go? Well, I give you such a project.



I give you...the Shaelyn Shawl (pattern name, not mine). A friend (Chicken Betty) sent me a big 'ol bag of fibre, it sat in my craft closet until I obtained a spinning wheel, I spun it all up into a scrummy two ply yarn then let it marinate for a while until I found the perfect project.



Once I found the right pattern, the yarn started to call for me. It started out as a whisper, grew to a dull hum and ended up being a loud annoying, nagging sound that would not leave me be. And once I did cast on, I quite literally could not put it down. The pattern called for five repeats of the lace pattern and I had intended to do ten, but at a certain point I realized that I needed my life back. That and I needed to lay off the muscle relaxers. Whether it was the yarn itself or my obsessive nature, this shawl caused me pain.

S'okay though, because people, I am smitten. It's one of those projects where I keep looking at it and going, 'Really? I made that? From like, scratch?' I spun the damn yarn for crissakes. Next stop; sheep shearing. I've caught the bug.

Now I'm watching MasterChef and it's making me hungry. Until later...

All Good Things...

I've been sick for about a month. Which made me very cranky. Very, very cranky. I try not to spread the cranky around. It's no one else's problem that I'm so damn cranky, that's my philosophy (doesn't always translate to husbands though). So just like the movie Groundhog Day where we learned the little pearl of wisdom, 'don't drive angry', I try not to blog cranky. Hmmm...maybe that's why I blog so little anymore. *pause to consider this thought*

Recently though, the sun has finally come out and I've been able to get outside and enjoy our epic deck (it really is depic...have I ever told you about the deck?) and I haven't been cold enough for sweaters or mittens or any sort of wooly, layering type clothing at all. As a matter of fact, yesterday I got half a sunburn. Yes, only the right half of me is burnt. I was sitting partially under the table umbrella, engrossed in the fact that it was the middle of the day and everyone was sleeping (the toddler because she's growing, the husband because he got called out twice the night before and didn't get home till 9am) and I had, what felt like, the whole world to myself. Just me, the sun, the birds and my sock.

As I sat there in my little reverie, it occurred to me, without overstating this too much, that despite how utterly craptacular I've been feeling lately and how focused on that I've been, I've got an awful lot to be grateful for and most of the time, without even realizing it, dreams really come true.

When we bought this ramshackle, run-down, sad, sorry, ugly stepsister of a house four years ago, all I saw beyond the cobwebs and the dust and OhEmGee the dirt was potential. I saw my dream house. Wasn't hard for it to live up to that standard. At that time, my dream house was just a place to call our own. Check. As we started to clear away the cobwebs and sweep up the dirt (and tear down plaster and rip out lath and sand floors and put up drywall and paint and paint and paint), my visions started to take shape and slowly over time, I've seen them materialize into concrete reality.

And it has been slowly. So slowly that it really drives me bonkers some days. But then we have a day, like the other day, where we finish up something, or get it to a point where you can allow yourself to get excited about the fact that maybe sooner than you thought, it really will be finished.

See, our kitchen has this big picture window. In front of that window sits my little kitchen table and chairs. Outside that window used to be the rotten and punky deck that was hideous and unsafe and really only good for going back and forth to the shed. I used to sit at my kitchen table and dream about the day when we'd have a nice deck, one that wasn't terrifying, and when I could look out that window across to the wall of the shed and instead of seeing bare plywood, I'd see siding and in front of that, container gardens full of kitcheny goodness; herbs, tomatoes, small veg. That sort of thing.




Well, there's the deck at the end of summer 2010...(kitchen window over by the 'chimney')


...and from the scraps of decking etc., the constable built me the first of three container gardens to sit across from my kitchen window. His own design, which all in all was rather ingenious. It's on casters so I can roll them around (since they are rather big and heavy) and there is storage underneath with doors on the opposite side so all of my gardening crap is right there where I need it.



T'would appear as though I have a helper as well. And an enthusiastic one at that. Here she is helping me get the plants in while her dad finishes up the container.

For yesterdays supper, I harvested my first bunch of herbs for my homemade pizza crust (pizza on the grill...divine) and a few sprigs of mixed greens for my salad. Really looking forward to those tomatoes so I can make the pizza sauce too ;)

As for knitting, I really did make May Mitts.



The yarn is an alpaca silk blend, so these are crazy soft, cozy and warm. I'm actually quite happy to report that shortly after they were finished, I had little occasion to wear them. Pattern is just improvised to fit my own hands/forearm.



I've recently gotten over a hump with this sweater as well. I started this in September of 2009 and have had stops and starts with it ever since. The end is in sight however. Once I managed to figure out how to count to three on a consistent basis, it practically flew off the needles. Oh fair isle, how I love thee. Let me count the ways (one...when you're going smoothly).



While I'm not exactly finishing a pair per month for my Self Imposed Sock Club, I am still cranking out pairs of socks, the latest being these Owlie Socks, which has been a very satisfying knit. Quick, easy, cute...love them. Love the yarn too. Got it in a swap, not 100% sure what it is, but have been told it is most likely Lucy Neatby. These are definitely for me, and I see myself knitting these again in the future. Not exactly making much head way on the gift sock knitting front. Ah well.

That should get me caught up for now. Now if you excuse me, in contrast to yesterday, I have a non-sleeping 2 yr. old who has done nothing but yell at me from her bedroom upstairs for the past hour and a half. Time to pull the plug on today's nap I think. Le sigh.

Until later...

Death of the Sun...

It's my unhappy duty to report to you all that the sun has in fact died and will not be shining on us ever again.

At least that's what I keep telling myself to stave off insanity. It's been grey here in Nova Scotia since November, and one can only keep a stiff upper lip for so long. Enough already. This is like the non-existent spring/summer of '09 that nearly gave me xenophobia I had to stay indoors so long.

So...another extended blog absence. This time due to another unexpected trip back to ye olde Ontario in April for a family funeral. My husbands grandmother passed away at the tender age of 98 years, a strong and darling woman whom I was very glad to know for the past decade. Little, Dutch, with a beautiful smile and a remarkable life story. She will be celebrated in the younger generations and missed by all.

That said, there is very little to report on the knitting front unfortunately. I've got a bad case of startitis at the moment, and just can't seem to settle on any one thing. There have been acquisitions however.

I wasn't expecting to do any yarn shopping back home as there really aren't any yarn shops, at least not the calibre of the ones I'm now quite used to here, plus I wasn't interested in lugging back a bunch of additional cargo in our already overstuffed luggage. I knew we were going to be doing clothes shopping while we were there, so I allowed room for that and little else.

However, my BFF sent me a link to a little hole in the wall yarn shop that was (in no way) on the way to the city we were planning to do our shopping in. So I made a little detour to check it out. Gotta support local business, right?

To my delighted surprise, it wasn't just yarn but also spinning supplies, so I stocked up on bobbins, which I needed, and overstocked on fibre.



The big pink bump is Corriedale, the bright orange and pink is silk and the remainder is natural Shetland that came from the sheep of the lady who owned the wee store where I bought it all. I'm almost embarassed to admit it, but I don't think it had ever occurred to me that there were brown sheep. I'm anxious to spin it up and see what comes of it. Very excited about spinning the pink. There's 8 oz and I'm waiting until I have something rather special in mind for it before I sit down at the wheel.

I did have the presence of mind to grab a cake of sock yarn in my packing frenzy and damned if I didn't get almost a full pair of socks done while I was gone.



I'm not sure what brand of yarn this is since my online bloggy friend ChickenBetty sent it to me a few years back, sans ball band. Anyhow, they're lovely fraternal twins and I refer to them as Northern Lights, cuz they kinda remind me of what I think they would look like were I ever to see them. (aside; pretty sure I saw them once when I was very young but it was so long ago now that it's a rather hazy memory).

And that, I gotta say, is pretty much it on the crafting front. I was so chilled the other day just going to the grocery store that I resolved to come home and knit some fingerless mitts, which then sent me into a spiral of despair because no one should think fingerless mitts in the middle of May. Even after four years, I really don't think I've acclimatized myself to the Atlantic coasts' version of spring.

Thanks for hanging in there for anyone who still is. Until later...

Just Go Sit and Spin...

Honestly. I really have no idea where the time goes. Lets move on.

Where to begin. So much to get caught up on, craft wise. I think a large part of the blog silence was in waiting to gift the projects I was working on, so as to not spoil the surprise. Lets start at the beginning, shall we?



For my nephew's second birthday, I made a pair of skull shorties Ravelry details here. I think I made them more for my SIL, who has a great love and passion for wool shorties, longies and soakers. Anyhoo, the orginal pattern called for an owl cable which was adorable in itself, but then I saw the girl do the skull chart and just had to mimic. They turned out super cute and, well, I'm quite partial to the model as well ;)



Then for my BFF who is expecting her second bundle of joy in May, I'd been working on this. Too much fun. I found a bag of Bernat Jr. Jacquards that needed a home and well, went a little nuts. The little pink sweater was a pattern picked by her and knit by me, a wee Helena. But the show stealer is the little wee baby cloche. Can you say Oh Emm Gee??? I cannot wait to see that modelled. It'll just be too much.



This past weekend I attended the Martime Fibre Arts Retreat at the Atlantica resort just outside of Mahone Bay. This is the third year of the retreat and I finally made it. What a blast :) My photos are crappy because I didn't bring my camera (my bad) so these were taken with my phone. Now, I think anyone outside of the fibre arts community would look at going and sitting in a room full of other crafters as perhaps not a fun filled way to spend a weekend, but for me, it was awesome. I think a large part of the appeal was having such large chunks of time to sit and do whatever I wanted. And to be able to do it in a room, a large room, full of other people doing the same thing...well, it was just pretty damn cool.



I went with another crafty friend of mine (who's blog post should be up soon...right Heddy?) who didn't forget to bring a camera, and we arrived promptly at 3 on Friday afternoon, staked out our piece of real estate for the weekend, plunked ourselves down and commenced intense crafting. I brought some knitting to finish and my spinning wheel as well. I was a little shy to break out the wheel the first day, as the huge circle of spinners was a bit intimidating to a newbie like me. So I finished some socks while I took in the room. I'd never seen so many hookers in one place before...rug hookers that is. I had the wrong idea about rug hooking. When I thought of it before, I pictured latch hooking, which isn't quite the same thing. These ladies are quite the artists. They do some amazing things with bits of wool.

There were also quilters and felters, knitters, spinners and weavers. It really was very cool. I think I was so excited by the prospect of having so much time to sit and work on my projects that I didn't spend much time cruising the room chatting with other people. I did a little, but I think next year (oh yes, I'm already planning) I'd like to do more of that. Particularly the spinners. By the time I decided to sit down at my wheel on Saturday, the spinners circle was jam packed and wanted to continue to visit with my friends, so I was this one lone spinner on the other side of the room. There was so much I wanted to chat to them about and learn.

There were some amazing projects on the go too. Beautiful rugs, stunning quilts, squishy fibre and hand knits that you just wanted to run up to people and say 'Did you knit that? It's beautiful.' Like self striping socks for example. Sitting next to Heddy, working on my intricately cabled sock, I was made to endure endless reams of people who oogled and oooohed and ahhhhed over her three by one rib self striping sock. Of course I kid, but it did become quite the ongoing joke the whole retreat. Ladies would sail by, admire the sock, then bring their friends from across the room to have a look. All the while, I sat there baby cabling away, getting no love. Not that care. I don't hold a grudge. But I will have my revenge. Plans are hatching for next year.

On our way out, we did a little yarn bombing but you'll have to wait for Heddy's post for that. It was amusing. Plans are afoot for more bombing next year as well. I'm thinking extensive MochiMochi bombing. Can't you just picture the resort staff wondering what in the hell is going on with all of these little snails etc. all over the place? Too much fun.

Anyhow, here's what I managed to accomplish over the weekend;



BFF socks by Cookie A for my BFF. She knows they're on their way, so this isn't really spoiling anything.



I plied the last two skeins in the picture here to add to the others already spun, for a total of around 750 yards. I'm not sure of the content, this fibre was a gift, but it's so soft and squishy and awesome. I want to knit something really awesome out of it...for me.



I spun about one and a half bobbins worth of singles of this, a hand painted merino wool top that Heddy gifted to me as part of a little arrangement we have. I finished it just yesterday. Really an amazing turnaround time from fibre to yarn. I don't know if the colours really show up very well, but it has what we decided were deserty colours...muted oranges, greens and blues.

And that should should pretty much get everyone caught up. If you're thinking that hey, I'd like check out this retreat thing too, just head on over to the MFAR (Maritime Fibre Arts Retreat) group on Ravelry as the dates are now posted for next year. At first I thought the idea of no workshops or speakers or vendors would be a bit boring, but it was so the opposite of that. It was relaxing, inspiring and best of all, productive and a heck of a lot of fun.

Remind me to post next time about miss A's second birthday. Yep, she's 2 now. Craziness. There was some crafting related to that as well. For now, we need breakfast.

Until later...

A Sticker Situation...

I really thought I was being clever. Little A had taken to ripping the books I gave her to 'read' at night before going to sleep, and it frustrated me to no end. And broke my heart a bit. I loved that she would content herself with a book for the few minutes between the end of our bedtime routine and sleep itself. I just couldn't abide going in to get her in the morning and find one of our beloved stories in a heap of little flakes beside her bed.

Then about a month ago, A got invited to her first birthday party. As part of the treat bag, she got a few sheets of stickers. I let her play with them and gave her a piece of paper to put them onto. It all seemed to go well. So well in fact that little alarm bells went off in my head, reminding me of my younger days when sticker albums were all the rage.

The next time I was out after that I found a cheap little sticker album and a few sheets of stickers. If nothing else, it gave me a 20 minute reprieve while she busily took stickers from one surface and affixed them to another.

She loved the sticker book. Loved it like no other. As a matter of fact, she loved it so much that she (still) clutches it to her chest and chants, "I love it I love it I love it!!!" That's when another little alarm bell went off. What if she took the sticker book to bed? After a long drought of no books at bed time, this might be a welcome change of pace.

That night I sent her off to bed with said sticker book in hand and we were both serenely content in the knowledge that we both got what we wanted. She, a book to 'read'. Me, the peace of mind in knowing that good money and a good book were both spared. If she ripped the stickers, who cares. I spent the rest of that evening congratulating myself on being one clever chick.

That is, until my husband got her up in the morning. Stickers, so I neglected to take to heart, stick to things. She did rip the stickers. Just about every last one that she had in her book. And they were stuck to e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Her sheets, her blanket, her pillow, her hair, her stuffed animals. And still, a nice little pile on the floor. What I thought was a win, clearly a fail.

She still loves the sticker book, and it's still in rotation. I haven't put it in a time out. I just seem to be having the darnedest time finding any new stickers for it.

So it's Valentines Day. I'm not a huge celebrator, but I do enjoy it. It seems to perk everything up right when you need it, in the midst of February. A nice colourful day when everything seems endlessly gray.

A and I did some crafts.



Here we did the melty the crayon bits in the wax paper thing, then used my Cricut cutter to cut out some hearts. She loved this. I let her help as much as she could, even sticking the hearts on the window. We also made a card for constable daddy guy with the Cricut, which was very cute but I forgot to take a picture.



Then we made some cookies. Well, I made some cookies. My crafting partner had a particularly long nap this afternoon and I had to get these in the oven to free it up for supper time. But she swooped in at the last minute to help decorate the last four on the sheet. The little design on the cookies was courtesy of my friend Carrie (now sadly blogless) who sent a little care package for the two of us not long ago, which included some cookie stencils. Just so happened that a few days after receiving the package, a tutorial popped up online on how to make your own coloured sugars. Voila! Just plain sugar cookies, cut and stencilled. Too easy.



Also in that care package was a couple of meters of ballerina flannel, since my BFF knows how much my little girl is into ballerinas at the moment. It was kismet, since I was just about ready to go buy some fabric to make her a little bath robe. She always makes a fuss over my robe and she always seems a little chilly after her bath so when I mentioned to her that I would make her one, she was quite excited. I gotta say...the cuteness meter went waaaaaaaaaaaaay off the charts when she put this on. To see her walk around the house with it on too...it just about kills me. And it fits her to a 'T'. I can't stand it.

A and I both got lovely flowers from the special dude in our lives. I always enjoy getting fresh flowers and to see my little one's face light up over her very first rose was pretty priceless, I must admit. She keeps wanting to smell it! I think I'll have to press it for her.

Anyhow, now that Valentines Day is all wrapped up, I'm going to crash on the couch with a tea and a cookie. Hope y'all had a nice day. Until later...

Sneak Attack...

Sometimes I wonder if parenting isn't an extended exercise in abject failure. Okay, maybe that statement is a little too dramatic. Maybe it should be more a matter of learning, every day, every moment, with every breath you take, to lower your expectations. Of yourself. The child has no expectation of you, other than to be nice and feed them and play and sing 'Twinkle, Twinkle' 8000 times at their behest. They don't sit and stew over whether or not they are being properly socialized or watching too much television or getting a balanced diet or going outside to get a boost of vitamin D because it's winter and we all know that we're all vitamin deficient in winter and I've heard that it might be possible that vitamin deficiencies are responsible for learning problems or behavioural problems or was it just mood problems or was that iron?

I thought I understood, before I had children, about how everyone said you worry about them. I thought you worried about their safety and whether they were warm enough and practical things like this. I had no idea about all the lunacy of what is out there in the zeitgeist about today's modern parenting would seep into my psyche and threaten my mental health. There's no chapter in 'What to Expect...' about that. As a matter of fact, that book started it all. Don't eat lunch meat when you're pregnant, don't go near microwaves, stay away from dark haired strangers, they'll put a hex on your unborn fetus and the child will be doomed for all eternity.

So I sit and I stew. And I bounce back and forth between worrying that my not-quite-two year old isn't enrolled in eighteen activities and doesn't have a bevy of playmates for play dates and saying 'Ah *fudge* it, we're just going to sit here and watch Nemo of the 100th time because it makes her happy.' It fatigues me. It really does.

Sometimes I wish there was some sort of parenting quality control, some polite little bureau that checks in with you with a list of boxes to check off every six months or so and says, 'Lots of fruit and veggies? Check. Going to Storytime at the library? Check. Hanging out lots doing fun stuff like colour and Play-Doh? Check. Well, seems to me like you're a jolly good parent then. Keep up the good work. Oh wait, just one more question. Are you singing 'Twinkle, Twinkle' 8000 times a day? Right-o then, carry on.' (Why these people would be British caricatures, I don't really know).

It's really hard not to think you totally suck at this job sometimes, when really it's just you. Which it is, a very large portion of the time. Example; I tried to play with A in the snow this past weekend. I went and dropped $25 bucks on a sled and three minutes into the excursion, I get the familiar mantra 'Alldone alldone alldone!' Three minutes. I don't know why I took it so personally. I guess the effort to reward ratio was a bit one sided, and my feelings were a little bruised. One trip to get the sled, one trip back, get bundled up, three minutes in the fresh air and sunshine (which in itself seems like a monumental feat some days) and I am utterly defeated.

Then there is this whole food issue. All in all, she's a good eater. Really can't complain. Just not a fan of meat and most veggies in their whole state. So with my Christmas Chapters gift card, I bought Deceptively Delicious by Jessica Seinfeld. I'd seen her schlepping it on Oprah a few years back and then just recently, the follow up cook book. The whole premise is to sneak extra veggies and other good stuff into your cooking in the form of purees. Then you make stuff that kids like already, like mozzarella sticks and burgers and pancakes etc. etc. I'd been kind of doing this stuff anyway, more along the lines of sneaking extra veg in pasta sauces, but I wanted some actual recipes to get an idea of measurements and portions and so forth.

So I got all the veggies and prepped all the purees on Saturday in anticipation of making a weeks worth of recipes to try. Saturday night I made the mozza sticks. Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you that I use recipes the same way I use sewing patterns. Really more of a guideline. The recipe in the book called for cauliflower puree and mozza cheese whereas I had a small chunk of cheddar I wanted to use up before breaking into some new cheese, so I used that and some squash puree (part of the idea is to match up colours, so that the kids don't catch on to the ruse). Also, I didn't plan on using any of the low fat substitutes that were called for in any of the recipes. They creep me out. So does cooking spray. Why use something that comes from an aerosol can when a little bit of olive oil will do? It's not like she needs to watch her calories. Me, that's another story. But we're focusing on her. And I feed her well all of the time. I just need a little peace of mind that she's getting a good balance.



Anyway, I mixed them, froze them briefly (like the recipe said) and lightly pan fried. Look just like mozza sticks, eh? I wasn't sure how they'd be received since A isn't really old enough to have any sort of preconceived notion of what constitutes 'fun' food, other than say, pizza which she really likes or noodles, which she could eat every day of her life and never tire of. So I really played up the whole aspect of them being 'cheese sticks'. Would you like to try some cheese sticks tonight for dinner? See, I made cheese sticks. Aren't these cheese sticks good??? FYI, she really digs cheese.



I was encouraged that she seemed to be taking to them right away. But, a few bites into it and she was spitting it out. Fail. I, on the other hand, thought they were great. Definitely tasted cheesy, with a touch of sweetness. I'll try them again. Maybe it was the breading she doesn't like. Maybe it was the hard sell. Like I was going to get a commission if she ate them up. That'd probably annoy me too.

The next morning I tried the scrambled eggs with the cauliflower puree. I was really skeptical about this one. I like cauliflower (and really, almost all veg), but I wasn't sold on how a puree in eggs would taste. Turns out, quite good. Both she and I ate them all up. Win. That night for dinner she had a choice between my husbands Superbowl chili or my cheese and sweet potato quesidilla (with homemade flat bread. Hubby brought home whole wheat flour for another recipe he tried and I've been endeavouring to use up the bag). The chili won, but only after she refused to eat it in her chair, was excused to the living room (which is my way of not throwing a huge fit myself because she won't eat dinner. It's done wonders for my blood pressure, not to mention likely doing much less damage on my poor daughters future relationship to food), came back to the kitchen and orbited me in my chair, occasionally entering my atmosphere for a spoonful of chili. Whatever. She ate it. Beans and meat and all. I'm still calling it a win. With an asterisk.

Today for breakfast we had french toast with sweet potato puree and we both enjoyed that as well. Overall, I'm calling the book a success. I'm going to try some of the baked goods with the purees, as I'm sure she'd gobble those up no problem. I'm much calmer knowing that she's getting as close to a full compliment of fruit and veg in a day. That part of my crazy internal dialogue has quieted somewhat. Which is nice
The only thing that bugs me about the book is that any time Ms. Seinfeld includes a tip or an anecdote (which are dotted throughout) she refers to 'healthful' food or 'healthful' eating. Is that even a word? If it is, it's awkward. What's wrong with health-Y? It's snobbish nit picking I know. But every time I come across it, it bugs the crap out of me. That's my only complaint.

Also, I made socks.



I wanted them done for my birthday at the end of January, which they were, so I actually got to wear them on my big day. They also qualify for my January Self Imposed Sock Club (a la the Yarn Harlot). Win again. The February pair are in a time out because I'm upset with the pattern. I think they are going to be waaaaay too big. Thinking of starting a different pair. My club, my rules. We'll see. Other than that, I'm either knitting up or have finished some gifts, which I can't talk about. That always seems to be the way.

Until later...

Some thoughts on housework...

Confession time. I'm a lax housekeeper. I see it as one of my primary duties as a SAHM (stay at home mom...took me a while when I first saw that too), but if truth be told, I certainly don't keep up with it with any sort of verve or urgency. This is in direct contrast to how I was raised. My mother, another SAHM, was a committed and devout, details oriented housekeeper. That is, until she finally got to an age where she hired a cleaning lady. Honest to goodness, half of the house I grew up in looked like a magazine spread. It was impeccably decorated and impeccably kept, mostly because no one was allowed in those rooms. You know those houses where they have a formal living room that no one sits in and you're just supposed to hurriedly run through on the way to your room? Yeah, that was my house.

This was my psychic landscape as well. Over the years, it's crept into more and more of my subconscious, taking over those parts of the brain that are well suited to adolescent rebellion and keeping all of your worldly belongings in a heap on the floor. Things really started to change in university, where I roomed with perhaps the most disorganized person I've ever met. In first year I ended up with two roommates in residence, one of whom was prone to walking on her bed with her shoes on (books on a shelf up above and she only 4' 10") and a wide variety of food stuffs to be found in amongst her bedding. Whenever she left for a weekend, my other roommate and I, tidy organized people that we were, would pounce on her third of the room and clean it up. I don't think this ever sat well. In any case, my little corner of the universe at that time was always swept, mopped, be-postered and pretty smelling. It was then that I started making my bed on a regular basis. It just calmed me down to come back from my classes (when I went) to see the quilt my grandma made and the afghan my mom made smoothed out and welcoming me to blow off my reading and instead sit down and watch some Star Trek.

Now I live in an unfinished and in perpetual renovation house devoid of baseboard in most rooms or real flooring in the entire upstairs, half finished moldings around the windows and more dog hair and claw scratches than I had ever anticipated living with...ever. Yet my expectation of my home is to live in something resembling House and Home. Thank you mother. I continually endeavour to lower my expectations. In doing so, I've come up with some basic rules of thumb for me to live by.

1) Whenever I get cranky about having to do housework, which we've already established is not often, I try to remember the kind of effort it would've taken to do 100 years ago and then I calm down about it. I put the clothes in the washer and walk away. An hour later, I come back and put them in the dryer, then walk away. I put the dishes in the dishwasher, set the 4 hour delay button and go to bed. When I wake up there are clean dishes (this NEVER ceases to amuse me). So all in all, it's really nothing to get so uptight about.

2) My benchmark for cleanliness is Hoarders. Have you ever watched that show? These people who are literally burying themselves alive with crap (sometimes, literally)? If I can stave off that particular outcome, I think I'm meeting my quota.

3) Really, no one in this house seems to really give a sh*t about this except me. I'm not counting the little one or the dog, so we really know who I'm talking about here. He never complains, so I guess I shouldn't get so bent out of shape over it.

4) When things get to the point where they start to make MY skin crawl, it's time to break out the Lysol.

5) Other than keeping the kitchen and the bathrooms at peak cleanliness at all times, everything else can wait until I have company coming.

This, of course, is all just a series of elaborate excuses to create more time for crafting. Hence;



I'm addicted to granny squares lately. I had some acrylic scraps and I broke into them to try out this rainbow-y blanket. This took me two evenings to do, which is why I heart crochet so much. I've used up as much of the scraps as I can for this, so now I can throw the rest away with a light heart.



I can't stop spinning!! Seriously. I think I've done nerve damage. Both my legs feel tingly all the time. But still, I can't stop. Chicken Betty sent me some fiber eons ago and it's so lovely that it practically spins itself. I've spun up about 400+ yrds already and have roughly 5 oz left to do. I think I'm really starting to get a hang of this too.



Little A is really into ballerinas right now, and on my latest trip to the fabric store I found this ballerina themed flannel. Gimme a bunch, please. I had hoped to make jammies and a fitted sheet for her crib, but instead bought enough for jammies and a top sheet. This is her throwing a mild tantrum over Idon'trememberwhat. But she was still for about ten seconds, so I managed to get a photo in.

This last one comes with a warning. Upon viewing, you may be overcome by an insatiable urge to make this. Just sayin'.



I got this through the Martha Stewart Craft a Day email. I pretty much get only newsletters in my inbox anymore. Anyhow, this looked irresistible so I had to try it. Felted sweater teacup pincushions. Really too easy. I raided Frenchy's for all the wool sweaters they had and came up with these two...so far. I still need some i-cord trim for the saucers, but really, in an evening (sans i-cord mind you...I did those another evening), they were done. And adorable. They're from designer Betz White.

Speaking of housework, I've gotta go figure out what to make for dinner. That's a whole other post.

Until later...

Output...

The other night, during our bedtime routine, I was singing my usual repertoire of songs to miss Bean when I decided to ask her what she might like to hear next. We'd already been through several renditions of 'Koopa' (Kookaburra), 'Rock-a-Baby' (Rock-a-bye-Baby) and 'Fwisee Song' (Not sure of the actual title, but it's the one where the two fishies 'swam and they swam all over the dam.' I'm going with The Fishy Song). She answered with 'Deedle-dee'.'Deedle-dee?' I repeated. It took me a moment to search my mental Rolodex for what this might be. Then it dawned on me. Sometimes, for no discernible reason, I hum the Super Mario Bros. theme song, substituting in 'deedle dee's' here and there. She did a celebratory dance when I figured it out.

So some of the following is going back a while. I thought I had deleted photos of some of my Christmas crafts, but they suddenly appeared when I plugged the memory card into the reader on the desk top. Weird. I don't understand computers and I don't have the patience to try and understand them. I know 'working' and 'not working' as defined by me. That is all. The entire spectrum of my understanding of computer science. Anyhow...



This is a scarf I started knitting when I first received the yarn from a friend of mine (Colinette Jitterbug, not sure of the colourway other than to say that it is LOUD). I wasn't sure who it's recipient might be until about half way in when it seemed to suggest that a hip and stylish young lady might appreciate such an accessory. Fortunately for me, I know such a young lady! So it was to her that this was gifted at Christmas and I think it was pretty well received.



This was a cowl I knit for my sister (Ridged Lace Cowl) which, I think, turned out quite pretty and soft. In retrospect though, I think I may have eliminated a repeat or two. I like cowls to be, well, cowly, but this might be a bit too much so. Either way, it was fun and fast to knit and blocked out really nicely.



Crochet made a good showing this year as well. These were a couple of lunch sets I made for some culinary-inclined toddlers in my life. Shamefully, my own was not among them. Another of my goals this year is to craft more specifically for her. I made virtually nothing for her for Christmas this year, and that's just not acceptable.



I also made a bunch of Chicken Betty's Summer Coaster Set's (pattern available through Ravelry) this year. They're perfect little gifts. Quick, easy, festive...can't ask for more than that.



Once I was all done with Christmas, I was itching to get back to my wheel and starting working on my spinning again. I pulled out some pencil roving from the stash and within a few days had it all spun up.



Singles ready for plying.



Finished product. I have a confession to make. Once I'm done spinning and plying some skeins of yarn, I carry it around with me for a while, like a security blanket or a teddy bear. I'm just so amused with the fact that I can actually turn roving, raw wool (okay, it's been washed and carded by the time it gets to me, and in most cases, dyed as well), into actual yarn. And it's not half bad either. This is roughly 266 yrds. I'm trying to get up the nerve to actually knit it into something. Any suggestions?



Finally, on an organizational tear at the opening of the new year and in keeping with my resolution to make-over my craft room, I cleared out the corner I had designated as Miss A's space for creating...



...and ordered my pneumonia-stricken husband to put up shelves. Yes, I am ruthless in pursuit of my own goals (relax...he'd already been on a weeks worth of anti-biotics by then. I'm not totally heartless). It's a little sparse and bare at the moment, there's lots of ways in which I can cute it up, but for now, it's fitting the bill. She has somewhere to colour and Play-Doh (which she is a little freakishly attached to I have to say) and we can hang together in our collective creative space which is a dream come true.

I've got other WIP's to show, but the clock is running out on nap time here, so I'd like to spend a little time at the wheel before I have to put the mommy hat back on. More later...