Where's that damn muse?

I have been told I need to revitalize my hobbying strategy. Lately my hobbies have included, in no particular order: advanced worrying, budgeting for the weak willed, feeling guilty for spending money, cooking after cooking, trying not to kill plants, and not finishing hats. Also I have been experimenting with frustration and playing zombie computer games.

Yeah, maybe he's right. But I'm sure you guys can sympathize. I have ideas for things I would like to do, but all of them require Bright Shiny Purchases; right now I can't justify spending for anything new. I have lots of great yarn, but don't feel like knitting or crocheting. I have a scanner, printer, camera, thread, modge podge, awesome aluminum tape, altoids tins, nature, a sewing machine that hates me, a needle punch doohicky, perler beads and the more stuff I put on this list the worse I feel for not doing anything with it and/or feeling like there is a need to buy anything ever. Gah! Rampant vicious consumer guilt cycle! I want little projects, not quite instant gratification but something that I can put down when the pastry cream boils over but still want to pick back up when the strawberry tart is done.

Really, though, I want something that is mine. Something that is more than just copying someone else's project. Something that is immune to the critique of others. I read on someone else's blog recently that cooking professionally is the equivalent of saying I love you to complete strangers every day knowing they will never, ever say it back. What I'm looking for right now is a project that lets me say I love you to MYSELF, because I know I will totally reciprocate.

Know the feeling?

you know how some people just can't pull off elegance?

I consider myself in that category. Not that I wouldn't want to, mind. I mean, it's a lovely thing to have people walk in to your home and say, "My what an elegant foy-yay and such a fabulous patina on that armoire!" but these people are not going to be swinging by my apartment any time soon. I mean, first of all, apartment. Not exactly Auntie Mame, either. No, I find myself in a place that has white walls and beige carpet, again, with miniblinds, again. At least this one has a few fun details that make it distinct from my last place. Like stairs. But I do not own. I do not even rent to own. I just rent. And that means I know, with absolute certainty, that at some point all of my belongings will be packed up and moved out, and I'll need the place to return to its white and beige self.

People say I could repaint, but who wants to do that when they are moving out? I could put up curtains, but with the exception of my kitchen there are drywall issues involved. No carpets yet, but I know one day I'll be able to tie the room together. Until then, I'll just have to find other ways of adding a bit of color. Like this:It's amazing what you can do with temporary spray mount and old betty crocker recipe cards. And I can look at things like chicken salad in melon rings every day! Inspirational!

Excuse me, I was promised there would be hats.

So far, since we moved here, I have made seven hats. Yes, seven. Scary, eh? It's good, because I need hats to wear over my hair at work, as opposed to always working the Aunt Jemima/ gang warfare look that is the bandana.

I've never really gotten the hang of bandanas, I have always felt.

Anyway, the small single skein crochet project that is the hat seems to work for me. I was even going to make seasonal ones if I can muster up appropriate yarn. I couldn't get candy corn colors that weren't acrylic (bastards!) but I still have hopes for an election day hat. Guy Fawkes day hat is a little much, though. I even have budget hats! I made this one with yarn from the dollar store and everyone loves it.

I've also started playing with stitch patterns and the like, with some successes and some weirdness. But honestly, for working, this green, floppy organic cotton one is probably my favorite.

It is really difficult to take a picture of yourself wearing a hat.

Little things

This really is the only good use for that percolator. Also, I made a set of origami box lights for our stairs. Now if only we could be finished unpacking.

Also, I crocheted a hat, but haven't taken a picture yet.

Tailoring advice, please!

It is time, after years of chocolate, raspberry puree, passion fruit coulis, chlorine bleach and other assorted products, for me to start replacing my chef coats. The ones I have, I love. They are short sleeved so they are great in the summer and when reaching in to scrape out 40 quart bowls of cheesecake batter. They are a women's cut so I don't look like I have on my big brother's shirt and weigh another 30 pounds. They also are no longer being produced, although when they were, they were like a hundred dollars a pop. No thank you!

So I found a short sleeved jacket for twenty dollars. The problem is, it fits in the shoulders and chest, and everywhere else is just not right. Lame! I think, maybe, I could tailor it myself. I know, it's sewing, but I can hem up the sleeves and bottom of the jacket, and I think I could take in the sides a bit. But I'm not sure. Should I even try? Just take it to a professional? Whatchall think?

Superior help for hard working hands

Here's a useful little thingy.

My hands are wrecked this week. Completely. It started with a peeler gouge while I was making 250 poached pears. It went on to include some fabulously ugly blistered burns from tuna oil from the guy next to me on the line (Harumph! Indeed!) and some innumerable bumps, dings, cracks and overall dryness all thanks to what one of the sous chefs refers to as "the worst week every year" - and that's counting December. Now, I wouldn't lay claim to any vanity where my hands are concerned, but well, I am a girl. So this is one of my favorite fixes.

In a bowl mix a couple spoonfuls of plain yogurt or cream and a spoonful of honey. Add some ground almonds and a bit of rosewater if you've got it. Slather that on your hands, especially the backs of them, and throw on a pair of powder-free latex gloves. Go about your business for about ten minutes. Toss the gloves, rinse the hands in cool water. You could go all out at this point and moisturize your nails with almond oil and stuff like that but that's all up to you.

It really really helps and is way cheaper than some schmancy hand cream. Also, it tastes good. Don't look at me like that, it does.

Why are granny squares so hard? There is something I am missing...

It's January, so free time is once again in my life. In case you couldn't tell...

Hey, I made magritte for my feet and it cost me less than ten bucks. (Hey if all those craftster folks can do starry night fake vans, i can do my nod to surrealism. I just wish I could use paint like everybody else.)

More projects I'm contemplating:
1. I want to make a blanket of some undecided 8-bit character out of granny squares. which means I will unravel the mystery that is the granny square. May take a while...
2. Collage some shoes! I have no idea why I want to do this. But I really do. What drives women to collage?
3. I got an amiguriumi book for Christmas, and I must make the duck. The duck is required.
4. Surly Carrot Cake!

That should keep me busy, especially the blanket. And since I tend to totally fade out interest wise in big projects, if I can finish it, go me!

I know, what use could this possibly have, but I like it anyway.

I made a shiny ball of mud.

I really don't know why the japanese art of hikaru dorodango is so fascinating to me. Maybe because it is meditative. Maybe because it is fascinating watching something made simply of earth become a shiny sphere. Maybe because it is an elevated reason to PLAY WITH MUD.

I don't know.

That aside, this is a cheap, and interesting way of creating a lasting memory of a very specific place - the color and shine of the dorodango are directly related to the dirt you are using. This ball here is forever a piece of my backyard in Alpharetta. Now I want to collect dirt whenever I travel. Won't that be fun for airport security?

There are a couple of websites that explain the method for making these. I used this one. Basically, you start with barely damp earth (think good sandcastle dampness) and you try and make the most round of round spheres you possibly can. OCD is an asset here. Then, you let it dry a bit - some methods suggest using a ziploc for this, I didn't - and from that point you just add layers of fine, dry dirt, rubbing as you do, until you develop the gloss you want. It took a few hours to make total, and a good portion of that was sitting in front of a movie while my hands were adding the last fine dirt layers.

The dorodango lightened in both weight and color as it dried and now it is sitting on the mantle above my fireplace. There is a scale of shininess that rates dorodango from 1-5, 5 being super ultra glossy awesome explosion. I'm figuring this around the two to three range, but I'm hoping for a four for the next one. On Moh's hardness scale, I'm figuring it's around a 2, because I like to classify these things.

I did try a second one, but rubbed too hard and cracked it, so I have to attempt again. I've got some super red dirt from near one of the restaurants I used to work at. Shiny red mud ball...