No, I haven't been just goofing off...

I had a shower to go to. I made a duck with matching hat. It also got wrapped nicely with a little hand stamped card. Now, I have to go to work.

Crafting home

Maybe it is a girl thing. It probably is, something to do with nesting. Although in the car, I wish I had a tape recorder, because HE said he wanted to really pull the house together, to not have anything in boxes, because we've come to far to live like kids in their first apartment. Or at least something like that, I'm paraphrasing.

We still have no furniture, it's on a truck somewhere, and yet, there is already things hanging on the wall. I bought a few plants and pots for the patio and we've discussed furniture placement. Oh, and the spongebob bathroom is mostly set. That came together first.

I have 652 other ideas for what to do here, with immediate finances being my major limiting factor. (Hello! Idiot! It is not cheap to move across country! Put down the awesome stone patio accessories!) Some of those ideas I know to be, well, a little quirky. This time, though, I'm giving myself permission to try them. They may not be things that most people would do in their houses (and some may be failures that I hate) but I'm going to try them anyway, because even though once again we find ourselves renting a space with beige carpet, white walls, and blinds, it's still supposed to be our home.

So maybe its time to live that way.

The ghost in the machine

My sewing machine was my mother's, with all the baggage that you can imagine that brings. My sister and I both learned some of our craft skills from her, and a whole lot more on our own, after she died, when faced with the piles of her unfinished projects. The sewing machine is the only sewing machine I can remember, and the memories are not always happy. Trying to stay still while yet another stupid dress was pinned on me. Her critiquing over my shoulder when I tried to sew something. Fights that usually ended with me giving up, and her taking over to finish whatever it was I was working on.

This is why I give serious thought to my training methods at work.

I take these memories with me every time I lug the heavy thing out of its case and set it up on my dining room table. And the machine objects to me. I know it does. I don't understand it, don't understand why tensioning knobs don't work, how thread can get knotted up inside the bobbin, why I have to keep rethreading the needle at random intervals. It didn't used to act this way.

It hates me.

Still, I manage to turn out some ok looking things. Maybe it has personal pride at stake? I don't know. I made this Japanese style knot bag because I hate a purse but like having something for my wallet and phone on a plane. Not bad, right? It's good you can't see in between the two fabric layers. And it isn't exactly reversible the way the pattern is supposed to be. (Hey, props for taking a picture of my own arm!) But passable enough that I'll use it.

A couple of parts of the machine broke off recently. Kinda important parts like the thing that holds on the foot. I went to Jo-Ann to ask about the existence of replacement parts. A lovely woman called Viking for me after we discovered no such listing for the model in the parts book. New parts, they said, are just not available anymore, even to those who would be able to service it, if I could find someone. The lady at Jo-Ann broke the news. "You're going to have to start looking for a new machine."

I know this will help my sewing. A new machine and I could become at least understanding if not outright friendly. But I'll admit it, I'm not ready for a new machine just yet.

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.