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.

Attack of the Mutant Challah!

Here is a challah that I made from scratch over 4th of July weekend. I think it's pretty good for a first try. It grew weirdly on one end & looks like a mutated manatee. It tasted nice, if a little too sweet.

Cross country crafting

Does it make me completely crazy that I am considering gathering bags of dirt along the way to Oregon so I can make a series of dorodango when I get there?

I'm glad crochet takes up so little space. Planning at least one surly cake for the route.

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.

Need Advice

OK I am working on another idea of something to sell and give as gifts. The new item is a Church Dolls aka prayer dolls aka baptism dolls aka plantation doll (I have found lots of names for these little dolls). They originally were made from men's handkerchiefs, then again, I have read they are made from "grandma's hanky", which make me suspicious of the true history of the doll.

Their purpose though is always the same. A simple doll for little girls to play with in church, 0r anywhere else, that you want to keep the child quietly occupied. Above are modern examples of the dolls, I have yet to find a picture of one from the colonial days when they supposedly originated. Another reason why I am suspicious of it's history.

Below is my prototype. Please disregard the wrinkles and unfinished edges, when making this I was more concerned about getting the design correct. Tell me if it looks too creepy. I wanted to use smaller black buttons for the eyes, but I didn't have any on hand. Also I am going to sew the bonnet higher on the head so there will not be such a gap. Thankfully my daughter recognized it as a doll.

I look forward to get every one's input.

Gnomenclature

This unfinished project has caused no end of trouble. Not the project itself, which is done with needle punch embroidery (a quick way to smile according to the French on the packaging) and allows me to stab something repeatedly with a sharp object. That part is great. I haven't even stabbed my leg yet and only have to finish that one mushroom.

The problem is the design, which I stole from someplace online. The free pattern listed itself as being a gnome. This is not how my beloved sees gnomes. I can see his point, but I know of gnomes like this. Then, we fight. So it is a battle ground gnome/man's land in my house. My sweetheart is such a troublemaker. Don't get him started on Santa's not-really-elves, either.


I think it's going to be a little pillow when it is done.

Gardening with a toddler

After weeks spent intermittently turning a piece of lawn into a garden (without the assistance of a roto-tiller) I finally got to planting today. We were out shopping for other things when I asked the 2-year old if she wanted to go home or buy flowers and plants. Then we spent the next 15 minutes of the drive with her saying "flowers" every 2 minutes.

Red and green bell peppers, pole beans, zucchini, cucumbers, basil, lemon thyme and regular and heirloom plum tomatoes. The little one was extremely excited with the bean seeds (another phrase she repeated 100 times or so for the rest of the afternoon). Hopefully they'll come up and keep her interest in the garden, and mine. Since we don't have a fence up yet, my other great hope is that the neighborhood bunnies don't attack overnight.

E enjoyed planting the seeds, and then was impatiently demanding "next" every time I stopped to do something silly like cover a plant with soil. Picking the flats of plants up by the leaves, walking without looking through the garden, sitting down on top of pepper plants. She was scolded numerous times this afternoon with absolutely no effect and probably still has no idea why. Any suggestions to train a little one on watching where she walks?