Note to self: Turn on the light.

Just because a project is top-secret doesn't mean you have to make it in the dark.

Me (last night, talking to myself) : Ok, so that dark purple color looks good for that squiggly part. I'll use this dark brown for the not-so-squiggly part.

La dee dah. Stitch stitch stitch. Hmmm.

Me (to Sidekick later in the evening) : I'm not very pleased with how this secret project is turning out. For some reason the two colors I've used are looking really similar. I don't like it.
Sidekick: Huh.
Me: I can't figure it out. I used a purple and a brown, and they just don't look different enough.
Sidekick: I'm sure it's fine.
Me: No. I don't like it.
Sidekick: Huh.

Me (this morning, to myself again) : Let me see what is up here. Let's put this item in the sun and get a better look. If I simply place the dark brown floss directly between the squiggly and non-squiggly parts from last night...


Holy shit. Yeah, ok. Anyone could've made the same mistake, I suppose. But the truth of it is, the two colors looked "too similar" because they were -- in fact -- "the same".

Live and learn.

Saddest part? It's about 100 degrees here today. So while I sit by a window for the good light, pulling out last night's non-squiggly work and trying to finish the item, I will also be slow-roasting. Upside? By the end of the day I should be tender-er and juicier than when the day began. So I've got that going for me.

Delicious Purl

I have a very dear friend who reads my blog, despite his having zero interest in crafting. He is a fine, fine friend indeed. Being an outsider to the crafting world, he makes observations about it that are astute and humbling.

"What I find truly fascinating," he once said to me, very sweetly, "is that the crafting movement seems to be all about hand-making things, standing up against corporate culture and consumerism, and yet..." He paused here for a moment to sheepishly chuckle, "you guys are always buying stuff!"

Yes. Yes we are. It's a puzzler.

From Purl (clockwise from left): Kacha Kacha row counter, knitting needles, bias tape maker, quilter's curved safety pins, and wool felt.

Oh, let me get you a closer look at those needles I bought.


Wait. That's not really clear. Here you go:


That shot is dedicated to my former LYS. You're welcome. (Instead of "You're welcome" I wanted to say "Peace, bitches!" but thought better of it. See how I did that? Smooth move, me!)

ANYway, let's briefly discuss the felt! It was expensive, but it is so beautiful. It has a really subtle herringbone pattern in it, and it's just great. Here's another photo of it.

Scrumptious!

Side note: Pleased with how those photos were turning out, I thought I'd give the embroidery another try in that same warm sunlight.

I'm starting to believe it just can't be done.

Oh, Irony. Is there nothing you can't do?

I have so much fabric. So, so much fabric. A shameful amount, really. I have lightweight fabrics and heavier-weight fabrics. You want whimsy in a fabric? I've got it. All class? Got that too. And yet...

I'm carrying my knitting around in a raggedy-ass plastic bag.

The affront is not just that this bag is ugly or that it makes a lot of noise when you touch it. (Like people turn to see what all the commotion is about when I take it out of my purse. It's that kind of noisy.) The real rub is that I could make myself a perfectly glorious project bag. A really, truly spectacular little tote. I've got the fabric!

And yet somehow it just doesn't happen.

So I crinkle, crankle, crunkle in waiting rooms, at the car wash, at a friend's house. I apologize for the noise and try to keep it down.

Ah ha! Maybe that's why my Chevron Scarf isn't finished!

I'm so concerned about all the noise, I don't ever reach in to grab the little guy.

My poor little scarf is trapped in a loud bag 'cuz Mama won't make a quieter one!

Does that sound like excuse-making to you in any way? No? Yeah. I thought not. It's too airtight an argument to be an excuse.

Awesome.

The blurry means it's working.

Embroidery of this pillow is still in progress.


I must think it's turning out pretty well since every photo I take of it is straight from Blursville, USA.

Also? Just to reiterate - the colors are SO much more beautiful than they appear here.

What I should do is go take a photography class with an emphasis in macro lighting tech-mology and not return to the blog until I've mastered that. Or I could go take a class in Photoshop so that I could adjust the colors after the fact.

Given that neither of those things is likely to happen, you'll prolly just have to keep trusting me... well, squinting so the photos will be in focus and trusting me. Spanks! We appreciate it!

I support things that support me back.

I don't believe in revenge as a practice. I really don't.

But it just so happened that when I was poking around online last night, I saw that Purl had the needles that I need to make those socks. You know the needles. The ones that this one had never heard of. There they were! Ready to be bought! So I bought them.

Now, after all your comments and a lot of soul-searching, I decided I won't go back to the LYS that gave me so much grief about these needles (among other things). Life's too short. And there's no need to get involved in any more nonsense. Why buy the drama when you can get the milk for free? (Oh, wait. That's not how that goes.) It makes me genuinely sad to have to make those kinds of decisions, but it seems like the ethical thing to do. Just put the whole thing down and walk away with loving kindness.

I am happy to give Purl my business, as they have never been anything other than prompt and kind. They also have that kick-ass Purl Bee. So, there's that.

My sock-making, online-buying, picky-needling self is gonna just have to drive a little further to get knitting supplies locally. And that's too bad. But it's preferable to giving my money to a place whose business practices are so problematic.

Thank you for all your thoughts on it. If you have any others, I'm all ears (or eyes, I suppose, in this case).

Back to crafting content with photos tomorrow!

Totally random tip/observation

I just discovered a way to reduce the chance I'll have a meltdown in the dressing room when shopping for clothes (one of my absolute least favorite activities).

(1) When going through the store, select every item I'm considering trying on in two sizes -- a bigger and a usual size, remembering that the size -- like weight -- has nothing to do with anything (not my discipline or my worthiness, etc.).
(2) Once in the dressing room, start with the bigger size of the item I like the best and has the best chance of looking good on me. This was my major discovery. Turns out, it really gets things off on the right foot and has me in a good spot for the rest of it.
(3) Remember that none of it is critical. It's just not.

I got lucky today and started with a kick-ass top that made every other top seem stupid. This allowed me to ask of the other tops, "Why would they make a shirt this shape?" and "What were they thinking?" as opposed to, "Why are my boobs so big?" or "Why am I so short?" The latter two questions? Nothing we can do about those things. The first two? Well, those are things that will change next week.

That's all. Just thought I'd share my random -- but major -- discovery.

Do you have other tips that work for you, or do you like clothes shopping and need not worry with tips?

An Embarrassment of Riches: The Parade

Do people still go to parades? There are some that are always immensely popular (your Rose Bowls, your Gay Prides, your Weiner Dogs), but as a popular form of entertainment, I think the parade has pretty much been replaced by other (dare I say) more entertaining things.

That being said, a virtual Parade of Items has potential, I think. For starters, you are probably more comfortable right now than you would be if you were outdoors sitting on bleachers. Also? Maybe your choice of snacks is a little more varied than a pile of spun sugar, ice with syrup on it, or a snout tube on a stick. (Unless those are delicious to you, in which case I hope you have them handy.) Finally, if you're lucky, right now you aren't smushed up against a bunch of sweaty dudes, their kids, and... well, sweaty dudes. (Again, unless that's what you're into. And if that's the case, again, I hope you're knee-deep in them.)

Did you get lots of soft things to protect your precious bones from breaking when you see the awesomeness?

Ok, then. Cue the trombones, the clackety-clacking drums, and the flag wavers! Here comes your Parade of Items from My Birthday Shopping Spree!

First up... pandas.

You'll see here that the Pandas come in two colors -- delicious pink and fantastic yellow. Nice one, pandas.

Here come the sheep!

Those sheep are always a favorite with the knitters. These are on an especially hefty fabric. Who knows what this fabric could become?

Get a load of these guys.

Bears. What's the matter, fellas? Why so stunned? Out in the woods and don't know what to do? Come on. I'm sure you can think of something.

(As I side note, I hadn't really realized how many animal fabrics I'd grabbed in my frenzy. Plenty, apparently.)

Next up, a few representatives from Echino, the teeth-smashingly good line from Japanese designer Etsuko Furuya.

Stripes, dots, and more stripes.


Now, prepare yourselves to behold the Frenzy Maker. The big finish to the parade!

The fabric you are about to see is the last yard that Superbuzzy had of this colorway of this fabric. Getting it before someone else did was the reason I was so reckless with my purchasing.

When I tell you I squealed out loud when I saw it online, and then again in person when it arrived, I'm not lying.

Here it is.


It. Is. So. Beautiful... to meeeeee. (that's the high one at the end)

Hooray!! That's the parade, folks!

There are many other fabrics that were purchased that didn't get their floats together in time. But I'm sure they'll make some special appearances in the future. Keep a lookout.

We'd like to thank my PIC for her generous contribution to the madness, and we hope you found today's parade enjoyable. Drive safely!

(See? Another upside to the virtual parade. You may already be where you were headed! But, drive safely anyway. It's good for everyone.)

An Embarrassment of Riches: The Teaser

I got so caught up in the yarn store story from Friday, I neglected to present the obligatory Parade of Items from that little spree I went on. So in that spirit, I offer you the teaser above. I don't mean to play games with you or anything, but I can't really parade until tomorrow. You understand. I still need to find a marching band and a baton twirler, and they aren't as easy to come by as you'd think.

Lucky for you, the delay should give you ample time to surround yourself with lots of soft things so that when you start freaking out at how cute and beautiful the items are, you won't hurt yourself.

So, between now and tomorrow, ensoften your surroundings. 'Cuz it's gonna get real cute, real fast.


P.S. Thank you all so much for your supportive comments about the yarn store thing. I really appreciated your sharing your experiences and sage advice. (Isn't it sad that most of us have had similar experiences? Sad! Urgh.)

Knowing, needles, and an LYS

So I'm gonna make these socks, right? Right.

Wrong-yarn wrong-needles test? Check.

Run-through of the basic elements of the chart? Check.

Right yarn? Just arrived yesterday. Beautiful hand-dyed.

(As usual, poor quality of photos tells you how beautiful the yarn really is.)

Right needles? Still not in my possession.

Here's where my local yarn store (LYS) comes in.

The story I am about to tell you is from my perspective. Others who were there will tell you a different story, because that's how life is. And that's cool. Everybody's gonna have a different telling, but rest assured, my version will have the most flair.

Also, let it be known that I don't like to call people out. I really don't. But sometimes things are just too egregious to ignore.

Let me start by saying that my LYS is a complex place, made up of complex characters. It is very conveniently located around the corner from my house, so it's got that going for it. However, more often than not, my LYS has That Vibe rocking on full blast. Maybe it's because famous people shop there, maybe it's something else, but those ladies have somehow perfected the art of down-the-nose-vision. As I've said before about this, you're trying to sell yarn, no? You're not weeding the hacks out of the neurosurgery rotation. One day that gravitas is gonna kill a person.

OK. That's too strong. Sometimes they are perfectly cordial to me. Let's just dive in to what happened.

A few days ago, I decided I should just run into the store to buy the needles I needed for these fancy socks so that when the yarn arrived, I'd be ready. So, in the middle of the day I zipped over there. I was in a perfectly good mood, cheerful and friendly. Really. I would tell you if I'd been crabby. I promise you, I was at peace with the world.

There were three women in the store. One works there (the one who literally pushed me over once), one was a Regular who had come to knit for the afternoon. And the third was the Owner, who was sitting in a little knitting area across from the Regular. The latter two were knitting.

Me (to Owner, cheerfully): Hi! I need some needles.
Owner: OK.
Me: Just some double-pointed 1.5 US needles.
Owner (cocks her head to one side and squints a little. I get a little whiff of The Vibe): 1.5 US?
Me: Yep!
Owner: What are you making?
Me: Socks.
Owner and Regular together: OH!
Regular (knitting, not looking up): I've never understood why people make socks. You never see them!
Owner (to the Regular): Oh, there are people who love to make socks. Sockers.
She says "sockers" like someone might say "cancer" or "racists".
My inside voice: I'm standing right here.
My outside voice: I'm making some socks for a friend who asked me to make them for her. It's not that I really l-o-v-e to make socks.
Owner (to me): I've never heard of 1.5 US needles.
Me: Uhm.
Owner: There are 0. And 1. And 2. But no 1.5 US.
Me: Huh. That's what the pattern calls for.
Owner: Well, just because the pattern says it doesn't mean it's right.

At this point, I'm starting to get the sense that this isn't going well.

Employee: Let me show you what we have.
She disappears into the back.

The rest is a bit of a blur, a flurry of very awkward moments.

At one point the Owner tries to engage me with: You've been knitting this summer!
Me: A little, but I've actually been sewing quite a bit.
Owner: Me, too. But it's always with my knitting. What have you been sewing?
Me: I made the Purl Rabbit recently. From The Purl Bee?
Owner: Oh, yeah. She has a nice site. Do you shop from her store online? (very serious) Don't tell me you've bought yarn from her.
Me: I haven't. Cross my heart. I've bought fabric.
The Owner and Regular then get into a conversation about the "Yarn Shopper" and how savvy "they've" gotten, how they'll just look for the best deal online and buy their yarn there instead of in a store.
My inside voice: Again, I am standing right here. In. Your. Store.

The topic returns to needles, and the Employee is now trying to give me some Lantern Moon Ebony needles.
Me: Oh, I've had a bad experience with those. They split.
Owner: You don't know that.
Me: Yeah. I had some that just split and ate my cashmere.
Owner: But these might not.
Me: I've heard from other people that they've had the same experience with that needle. So, I'd rather go with metal. Do you have any metal needles?
Owner: No.
Me: Oh.
Owner: What kind of metal needles would you use?
Me: I haven't used them, but I hear Knit Picks makes good ones.
Owner (fully sponsored by The Vibe): Knit Picks makes needles?
Me: Yeah. They're what the Yarn Harlot uses.
Regular: The Yarn Harlot?
Owner (to the Regular): She's this wildly popular online knitter. I'm telling you, you have to cater to these people, because there are a lot of them.

My inside voice: I. AM. RIGHT. FUCKING. HERE!

Owner (and I swear to God she said this to me with the Vibe-iest Vibe that ever Vibed): For someone who doesn't really make socks, how come you're so picky about your needles?

I tried to make the best of it. I really did. I even bought some needles I didn't really need. The cherry on the sundae? This final exchange as I was leaving:

Owner: You should bring your socks in and come knit with us sometime.
Me (with a smile and a playful tone): I don't know if I will. They are socks.
Owner (not playful. at all.): Oh. Now you've got an attitude!

This was absolutely the craziest display of crazy-making I've seen in a yarn store yet. If they'd been super busy or I'd been acting like a jerk, it would be more understandable. It wouldn't be the best way to treat a customer, but I'd understand. But this? All I can figure is that someone with knowledge they've acquired online has somehow become public enemy number one at this store.

I understand that brick-and-mortar stores are having it rough. I do. I want to support local business as much as humanly possible. But this store is not just having it rough because of The Online. It's saying something when there's a yarn store right around the corner from me, and I'm not in it every day of the week.

Sad.

But here's a question: In the spirit of wanting a peaceful planet, should I take her up on her invitation and go knit with them? Try to better understand the situation?

No, right?

Making knots is fun

We do love to make us some knots. Knitting? Series of knots. Embroidery? In this case, all knots. My stomach? Why yes, thank you for asking, it's in knots too.


I'm so thrilled to have had my Yarngentina post selected for the most recent issue of Yarnival! Cara did an incredible job of assembling a group of amazing writers and artists for this issue, and I am super-excited to be in their company.

The follow-up -- including actual photos of the yarns described and poorly drawn in that post -- can be found here, here, here, and here. It's worth a peek, if nothing else just for the aah-OOO-gah factor. It's pretty high, so you might want to prepare. (The Aah-OOO-gah Factor appears courtesy of that cartoon where one character sees another very attractive character and then his eyes aah-OOO-gah out of the sockets.)

In the meantime, while I un-knot my stomach, I'm continuing on with my version of this pillow. I didn't mark the fabric ahead of time, as some of you wisely suggested I do. Not because I don't love and respect you, but because I still haven't found a marking tool I really like, particularly for a bunch of dots.

It seems to be going OK so far, and I am especially pleased with my thread selections (the colors are really beautiful in real life. You're just gonna have to take my word for it).

However, since it has been going so well up to this point, that means debacles are right around the corner. And, as you should know, I am nothing if not an expert in debacles.

If you're new to my blog, please let me know you've stopped by, won't you? Cheers!

Happy Birthday to Due!

August is a month full of birthdays, I tell you what. And today is my sweet father's birthday! I made this card for him, and if he likes it, maybe I'll even send it to him in the mail! (See how I did that? See how I made it seem like I'd missed sending it on purpose?)

For his birthday, I'd like to tell you a story that captures a lot about him.

When I went away to college, my dad would send me small packages pretty regularly. They were almost always sent in one of those manilla envelopes with a clasp, the perfect size for the items he'd send: the local paper from my small hometown, a handwritten letter, and some quarters so that I could do my laundry. Occasionally there were other tidbits, but those three were the regulars.

That was super sweet and thoughtful. Sending care packages at all was more than any of the other dads did. But here's the thing: When my dad does something, he really does it. And he does it with love and careful attention to detail.

(Prepare yourself for some serious cuteness.)

My dad would always decorate the outside of the manilla envelope with adorable and clever drawings. Sometimes they were nature scenes with butterflies and trees. Other times he would decorate them according to the season -- Halloween, Thanksgiving, Flag Day, what have you. Anyone who was around when I got my mail always asked to look at the envelope and then promptly turned green with envy when they found out it was from my father. He is not an artist for a living or even as a hobby really, and yet he is a profoundly talented artist.

But, I have to say, the crown jewel of these packages were the quarters -- not just because they were thoughtful and useful (for some reason there wasn't a change machine in the laundry room), but because of how they were packaged. My dad would take a pink index card and tape quarters on in neat rows. I think he usually got about 12 quarters on each side of a card. Again, very thoughtful and really handy -- just throw one of those cards on the basket of clothes and you were good to go. My dad thinks these things through.

But wait. There's more.

When I would take a quarter off, there behind it on the card was a tiny, adorable sticker that he had placed perfectly in the center of where the quarter had been. For every single quarter. Every single time. A small little sticker of a kitty or a heart or a flower. I mean, adorable. And perfect. So every time I took a quarter off that card, I was connected to him in that moment. I was connected to his creativity, his attention to detail, and his practical thinking. I was holding a creation he had made deliberately, with care and with love. And that's just not something you see every day. And it's certainly not something you see regularly for four years while you're away at college. Amazing, right?

There are so many exceptional things about my father, I am looking forward to many more birthdays so that I might regale you further with tales of his genius. (I suppose it doesn't have to be his birthday to do such a thing, but I would like him to have a lot more birthdays anyway.)

I love you, Due! Happy Birthday!

May there be care and love everywhere, always!

Happy birthday, SIL!

It's my beloved sister-in-law's birthday today, and that is a glorious thing.

Here's what you need to know about my SIL: She can make something cute just by being near it. Her en-cutening properties are stunning to see in action.

Take this last Christmas, for example. We decided we were gonna do a little sewing project, just for fun.


Despite not being a seamstress of any kind, she just sat down at the table, and -- zip zap zop -- an apron!


Look how cute it is! This from a woman who, at one point in the process was all, "What's bias tape? I don't know what that is. Oh well, I'll just give it a try." And it was perfect. Yeah. She's that person.


Once she returned home to NYC, she added a little pocket onto the front in that same polka-dotted fabric. Adorkable!

She is talented and hilarious and brilliant and an awesome person all around. You can read more about her in these posts. I could not be happier that she and my little brother share their lives with one another.

Happy, happy birthday, chica! You really are the best. (I say we give three cheers.)

Why do you hate cute things so much?

All I'm saying is Superbuzzy is having a sale. There are honest-to-goodness discounts on many items.

Between my PIC's generous birthday gift certificate and my own willingness to spend money, I just ordered a boatload of fabric. And the boat I'm referencing? Large. It's a large boat.

I could've been more measured and smart about my purchases, but I got all caught up in the frenzy. It was a little like this experience, only without the updates part.

See, what happens is, when you're looking at a particular fabric on Superbuzzy, you can see how much of it is left in stock. When I saw that there was only 1 yard left of a super-great fabric, I felt like I needed to race through my order to be sure to get it before someone else did. The only problem was that the fabrics are in alphabetical order, and the one-yarder started with "E". There were 705 fabrics, and I was only at about 180 at the time. (I would've linked to the fabric I'm talking about just now, but it's gone now. Because I bought the last yard!)

So, I may have been reckless. I may have just thrown things into my cart with arms a-flailing. There were things I'm sure I missed and things I grabbed without enough thought.

But, it's my birthday tomorrow, and I figure a little fabric-and-notions shopping spree isn't the worst thing in the world. (Even if the size of the spree was Large Boat.)

Huzzah!

For my next trick

I'm back! Vacations are cool. There should be more of those.

Thank you so much for your sweet comments about Bunny! I'm amazed at what a hit she's been.

Riding the wave of Bunny's success, I am now very interested in making a modified version of this pillow.


I've selected the fabric and embroidery threads that you see above. (The fabric is actually a lovely rich lavender color, and the pillow will be for a dark chocolate brown chair, if all goes according to plan.)

I've done a sketch of the design I want to embroider that pleases me greatly. Now I am just trying to figure out whether to mark the fabric before embroidering it or whether I should just eyeball the design and get knotting. Eyeballing is probably funnier and more likely to yield "you'll never believe what happened..." posts. But marking it has the potential for "can you believe how much this looks like shit?" posts. So there's that.

While there are other projects still in the works -- these socks, the raglan sweater for Bunny, the Chevron scarf, Quiltie, and others -- this will be my only embroidery project in progress. Oh, I lied. There's still that Brazilian embroidery thing. No, wait! I didn't lie! That one was just a sampler. A SAMPLER!

Ha HA! Didn't you miss my crazy?

Yeah. Thought so.

Back in a flash

My sidekick and I are off for an extra-long weekend holiday.

While I'm gone, please poke around the blog and read things you've never read, won't you?

I'll be back Monday.

Until then, may your crafting be glorious and your debacles spectacular!

Love,
Dr. B.

Bunny was a huge success

I am proud to announce that Bunny's life just got a lot more exciting. And the transition from crafty item to cherished play companion was pretty remarkable to behold.

Bunny was presented to her proud new owner yesterday, an awesome and adorable 20-month old Little Girl, and they are truly and completely in love.

(As you know, I don't care for children. But for this particular Little Girl, I have a great deal of fondness. And watching this whole thing unfold yesterday only made that fondness grow.)

When they first met, Little Girl looked long and hard at Bunny's face, looking deep into Bunny's french-knot eyes to make sure Bunny was trustworthy and/or kind. After this careful assessment, it seemed all was good in the world, and Bunny was promptly relieved of her pink dress and placed face down on her little quilt for a nap. The pillow? That was placed on top of Bunny like a blanket. Well, that was for a second. The pillow then became Little Girl's pillow, and there was a quick demonstration of what taking a nap is, complete with "honk-shoo" snoring noises.

Then there was interest for a moment in putting Bunny's shirt on as Little Girl pants, but it was explained that those were Bunny's clothes, and that was fine. The pillowcase was worn as a glove for a moment, and Bunny's back was patted kindly with a be-cased little hand for a bit.

Then, a tiny mistake happened. It was time for Little Girl and Bunny to leave Dr. B.'s place, and Little Girl's Mom said to Little Girl, "Put Bunny in the stroller. It's time to go." Little Girl ran excitedly over to the stroller, and started to strap Bunny in. So happy and gleeful, she sort of called out, "Bunny. Stroller!" Very excited.

Mom went over to make the necessary adjustment. "Bunny and Little Girl both go in the stroller." No sooner had Mom said this and taken Bunny out of the stroller than Little Girl screamed with a desperation and panic I can hardly describe. BUNNY!!!! STROLLER!!!!!! Like something really, really bad was going to happen if Bunny didn't get to ride in that stroller. Like, "Did you not just tell me to put Bunny in the stroller?! What did you just say?! Bunny goes in the stroller, or she'll DIE!"

Fine. Bunny stays in the stroller.

As we all walked to their car, Little Girl walked alongside Bunny's giant stroller, occasionally stopping to offer Bunny some water from her sippy cup, or taking Bunny out so Bunny could get a closer look at the gardens we were passing. This was crushingly cute.

Since then (yesterday afternoon), Bunny has gotten her own Bun-sized stroller and has been pushed around all over, I hear. Before day care this morning, there was apparently prying from hands and much dismay that Bunny would not be going along.

Dudes. Who knew crafting could bring this kind of love? It may not last, as love sometimes doesn't. But for now? Such cuteness!

The Purl Rabbit, y'all. I highly recommend it.