winter crafts

I've been crocheting quite a bit this winter.  I've made fingerless gloves and owls and hats to sell at my friend Hope's store "A Bit Of Earth," at the Flint Farmers Market. And I've made Christmas presents.

It's made me remember all the presents my Mom and I used to make for Christmas when I was a kid. I remember a whole series of house hold items made from Popsicle sticks and wooden tiles that ran over a period of years. When I was six, we made trivets, seven was napkin holders.  They were much harder, pre-hot glue guns.  All we had was Elmer's.  I wonder if anyone ever used them. I wonder if any of them survived.  I've seen similar things in magazines lately as "retro" projects.  Mom was ahead of her time. 

Then there were all the ornaments. Plaster of Paris, stuffed, needle point, cross stitch.  Wreaths, trimmed with herbs Mom grew, or lamb's ear leaves.  One year we made them out of premade bread stick dough rolled in birdseed. We baked them into the shape of wreaths and put bows to hang them outside on them.

I wonder if the recipients of these gifts enjoyed them as much as I enjoyed making them with my Mom.  She did instill in me a need to make things, and make them personal for people.

Anyway, here are a few of the things I made, for sale, and for presents over the winter.  None of them are as good Popsicle napkin holders, but I'm doing my best.

Updates, and new views on life.

It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry. Life's been a little rough for the past year. I haven't had the time with either the sewing machine, or the computer I would have liked. I've had a little tragdey, followed, I'm sorry to say, by a big tragedy. The little tragedy was that we lost my oldest cat over the winter. He was a lovely old thing, big and welcoming to any sort of stray we ever brought into the house, with, or without fur. I miss him, as much as I've missed some people. But he was seventeen, and I know he was ready to go.

The big tragedy was somewhat harder to deal with. At the end of April, my Mother died. She went in for heart surgery, and didn't pull through. The surgery was risky, but still, I ddn't expect it. I kept thinking that it would be just be okay. That she would be okay. And in the end, as hard as it is for me to say it, she was okay. It was clear to me that my Mom, as funny, creative and active as she was, would never have wanted to live the way the complications from her surgery left her.

But that was not much comfort, honestly, to me. So, I've been avoiding the sewing room. My Mom taught me to sew--well, she taught me the basics, and then shook her head continually when I refused to follow the rules. She loved to sew, and taught me to love to sew. I remember, in the 70's, after a Stretch-and-Sew class, she horrified me by sewing underwear and night gowns for me. MO-om. But it didn't stop her. She once made matching full length skirts--quilted, no less, for my sister, me and her. For Christmas. She made countless Christmas tree orniments and stuffed cats, and crocheted Loch Ness montsers to sell at craft shows to put me through college, as well as curtains, table clothes, even a stuffed Nativity set. When the kids had moved out, she decided she wanted to learn to quilt, and she did, in spite of the arthritis that plagued her. She also made hundreds--I mean hundreds of polar fleech gloves, hats, blankets and pj's for her church's clothes give-aways.

So I was eager, after all the hospital time, and sick time before that, to get into my sewing room again. I thought it would be a way to sort of be closer to Mom, now that I don't have her any more.

I'd like this to be the part where I talk about how that's what I did, and it did help me, but all I can really say is, not yet. It hasn't helped me yet. I don't seem to be able to finish the things I think I want to start, and when I force it, that just makes me make horriable mistakes, and then I think of my Mom, and well, right now, it just feels worse. So I'll just say this: I'm trying. I miss my Mom, and maybe it's just too soon. I'm hoping this won't last, but it's one reason I haven't posted. I want to write about good news. So, be patient with me, okay? I'll keep trying.

Seriously, back to business

It's been a very, very long year so far. My sewing room has been held hostage--which is another story completely. There's been some sicknesses with the parents, and my old cat seems to be failing, slowly. So.... No sewing for months and months. I've bought the fabric. And I've crocheted my butt off. But I've been in mourning for my sewing machine since October.

So here's my not-brand-new-year's resolution: More sewn projects done.

Okay, so that's not that specific, I know. I'm not that specific a person. I want to populate the esty page with more stuff. Keep it new and shiny. Sell stuff. Make all the trips to the fabric store pay off. I'm looking forward to spring, because as beautiful as winter can be, there's still no heat in my upstairs. Yike! So if it felt like being fifty degrees until the end of April, that would be FINE with me.

Here are two scarves I did manage to make for Christmas. They are from Twinkie Chan's Crochet Goodies for Fashion Foodies. Yes, that's peperoni on the pizza and the other scarf is fried eggs and bacon.... I modified the patterns a little, but if you crochet, you should check out that book. I really had fun. Next I plan to tackle the salad scarf.....

Wish me luck........

Back to business

Well, it's been a while since I've posted. I've had excuses to be away from the sewing machine. We got lovely new windows in the sewing room, but that meant that my table was down for a while. Well, a week.

Then there was a great doll. She's still great, but I can't seem to get her finished. The pattern didn't work the way I wanted it to. I have to make another arm... Sigh.What I've been doing lately is a lot of hand sewing. I've been making felties again, and really enjoying them. There's something about the simplicity of them that I love. Every time I stitch a face, I try to make it as expressive as I can, and try to find different ways to do that. I love to make a simple face that looks like it's about to tell a story.

The little guy above, for example is saying, I know my teeth are Sharp, but I don't look hungry, do I? I'm really friendly.....

And then there's this little guy. He's obviously a Micheal Jackson impersonator, right? But he's got the jacket, and the hair. Both of little creatures are from felties books by Nicola Tedman. They are fantastic patterns, which are easily adapted, which is what I did, rather than try to trace them. I love the detail of the Micheal Jackson Thrilla, but my hair turned out a little big. I love that between the eyes and the mouth, it really does look like the dancing zombie.

I'm sort of sick of my sewing machine. I'm hoping that these little bits of whimsy will push me back up there. Before it gets too cold....

And the kits all say hello. They miss you. And think you should bring them treats.
Now.

Cleaning

I've cleaned off my sewing table. It's not perfect, that's for sure, but everything is Put Away for a change. I even found the foot pedal that goes to my good machine, so the portable is taking a rest and I'm back to normal. Almost.

I've had a doll in my head for a while. She's a little curvy, and I keep seeing her with a carpet bag. Enter my friend Paul who, at some point, randomly sent me a box full of upholstery scrapes. Blues and greens mostly, with some reds. The scraps are all pretty small, because, I'm guessing they were samples. So, yesterday I began cutting the doll out of her muslin, and sewing the body peices together. I got as far as stuffing the torso and the head, and I knew I didn't have anything for clothes. But then I remembered the box. Spreading the scrapes out on my ironing board, I found a velvet for the skirt with flowers and a castle, and a scrap of bright green for the bodice. Then I remembered a dragonfly scarf that I never wear that would work for the blouse and underskirt.

Have I gotten to the carpet bag yet? Not yet. But this doll is going to be amazing. Her story is coming right a long with the clothes. I know so far that she will be called "Give me your Dreams."

And I have an idea of what is going to be in that carpet bag of hers.....

Maybe pictures soon. For now, say hi to the kits.

Chaos

Good Morning. It's seven o'clock on your day off. This is the first living thing you encounter. No, not the cat. His tail. And hind end. You know those dinosaurs that had a brain in their tails to operate them because they were so big? Figaro has that same thing. The problem is, in his case the brains plot against each other. And me. Unfortunately you can't see the full effect, because what his tail-brain is doing is swishing the tail UNDER my iron while I'm trying to iron the piece. Yep. It's seven AM on a Saturday and the tail-brain of the cat feels that we should go to the emergency vet. Which doesn't help fill this purse order.

Now his head-brain is getting into the act, trying to school the tail. None of this appears helpful to me, does it? Appearances can be deceiving though. I've found, over the years, that a certain level of chaos actually helps me make stuff.

Now, this is like kryptonite to others. I've mentioned my Mother. She can't stand to even enter my sewing room, it's so stacked up with random stuff. Check out the boxes and bags behind Fig. Yep, I'm not sure what's in them, but I know I'll probably need them some day... My poor roommate is similarly afflicted. She has to share the place with me. I don't disagree that organization has it's place, it's just that for me it doesn't work. I wouldn't blame her if she put a line of tape down the middle of the place.

But for now I work in sort of a rag bag, with a cat on my head most of the time. I do envy those people in the magazines with beautiful work spaces with lots of storage, all color coordinated and stuff, but I need things where I can see them. Within easy reach. If I put my stuff in cupboards, I'd forget about it. How do you work best? Everything in its place and a place for everything? Or are you more like me, super cluttered like a grab bag table in a church basement? Do you have a partner in crime, or do you have the place to yourself?

Discuss.

Or sew.

So this is one of the cats. Yes, of course I have three. Figero is the teenager cat, and so, of course, he helps me sew. Someday when I actually clean off my sewing table, I'll put up a picture of the window in front of it. In the winter that window was a curse, because it was soooo cold. Now it's amazing. The light is the reason we bought the house. Anyway... Right. Cat. Fig is a little hyper, but he's not stupid, so I often find him sprawled out on his back on the table, soaking in sunlight. The problem comes when he wakes up. As you can see, he's very, very sneaky. And plots against me. He's part magpie, and has a fondness for doll heads, and god help me, doll boobs. He's always stealing them and stuffing them under the stove downstairs. I know. I don't know why.... At any rate, I just thought you'd like to see what I'm up against.

mart