Feelin' like a groundhog...

I've figured something out. I can tell you when spring is just around the corner...'cause I start sewing little dresses like a crazy woman. For your delectation:



This started out as a long skirt of mine. But then it tore something awful right across the whole skirt. So, I chopped off the bottom and made two straps out of the remnants. Gotta love upcycling.



Yes, it's eye searingly bright. And I LURVE it. This was lurking in the UFO pile for a very long time, and I finally got around to finishing it in the sewing frenzy that was yesterday. (Look, I've been dealing with a sick toddler, an on-holiday boy and a "ohmygodI'msickanddyyyyyyying" husband for the past two weeks. It was either hide in the sewing room for awhile or turn up on the evening news.)

The original pattern calls for an apron on the front, but I didn't feel like digging through my fabric stash to find something that went with the existing fabrics. Plastered on some ribbon and called it a day.



I call this one the Ice Cream on the Beach dress. I had this offcut (from one of Fabricworm's bundles, I think) in the stash, and it was just crying out to be a summer dress. Shirring and shirring and shirring the bodice took ... awhile. The hem comes from the Oliver + S Lazy Days Skirt pattern. Love it. I'm considering doing a tutorial on how to make it, as I'm definitely going to be making more of these. Let me know if there's any interest and I'll post it.

And finally, a skirt.



Modded from the Made Market Skirt tutorial. The button was a find in the button basket (who knows where it came from).

Of course, I had to finish a pair of thick, wooly socks too. 'Cause it's not Spring quite yet.



Damnit.

Snow paralysis.

Honestly, I've been here.

Drinking buckets of tea.

Reading books. (Go read the Hunger Games trilogy. You'll thank me later. And then go and read A Brush of Darkness. Again, you will thank me later.)

Writing. Editing, to be more accurate.

Watching endless repeats of Wall-E at the small girl's request. Ungh.

Baking.



Sullivan Street Bakery's recipe. AMAZING result. Lovely crackly crust, and a good chewy crumb. I used a cast-iron Ikea pot, similar to a Le Creuset for this loaf. Worked really well, and I'm hoping to try the recipe again, but with rye flour. Anyone know where I can get some?

Knitting, of course. I'm feeling a little bit Groundhog Day-ish. I've been knitting and knitting...but have nothing finished to show you. But I can show you the swap package that I sent for the Mod Swap now.



You see the bag in the back? That's the Keyka Lou Bucket Bag pattern. Made from canvas and quilter's cotton, it's a very fun pattern to make up. Other stuff includes: silk brocade project bag, the Damson shawl from the last post, Uberwench fibre and handspun, Malabrigo chunky, a needle case, the Luxury One Skein Wonders book, and candies. As always, there's a few things missing from the pic. *sigh* Tea, some Kidsilk Haze, and a super secret bonus project. Will post pics of that later.

In the meantime, I'mma go and shovel more snow. Again.

Procrastination Station.

I've been slacking. I can't remember the last time that my house was really cleaned. My novel is ... stuck on a nasty plot point. And instead of working on it, I've been crafting.

Craft Hope's new project is making safe birthing kits for Haiti - Konbit Sante distributes these to trained birth attendants in an effort to stem Haiti's awful maternal and infant mortality rates.

The kits aren't complex - basic hygiene (soap, antibacterial gel, alcohol wipes, clean string, latex gloves and plastic sheeting) is addressed, and the handmade components are a tote bag, toy and a receiving blanket.



The receiving blanket is just a 45 inch square of cotton flannel, serged with a rolled edge. The toy was based on this tutorial (love her site), and the tote was pretty much improvised. It's made from a canvas dropcloth and lined with quilter's cotton. It's a nice, sturdy little bag. I think that I may make a few more of these, but larger, for grocery bags.

I'm also finishing up all of my items for the Moderator's Swap over at the Odd Ducks. The large component of this package is a Damson shawl.



The colour's truer in this pic.



I'll post a pic of the full package after my partner's received it. Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise.

Spun up two skeins of Uberwench fibre as well.



FUN crazy batt = yarn that looks like unicorn farts. Love it.

Finished up a pair of socks for myself. Nothing like self-striping yarn in a 3x1 rib to make one feel tremendously clever.



And finally, there are going out to a very special friend.



October Leaves Fingerless Gloves knit in Sweet Georgia sock yarn.

Phew.

And now? I think I'll knit myself some more socks.

I need a house elf.

So, last week, Mr. Munchkin comes over and excitedly waves an envelope in my face.

"Mom! It's a birthday invitation! Sunday!"

"Oh, sounds like fun."

"Yup! It's a Harry Potter party ... and I'm in Hufflepuff house (last part said rather dejectedly)."

"Aww, don't worry, I'm sure it'll be fun anyway."

"AND! It's a costume party!"

"Wait, whaaaa?"

And that is how I ended up sewing and glue gunning my little heart out for two days solid. But in the end, I think it was worth it.



I used this tutorial for the wand, and modded this one for the robe.

Note: if you want the "hood" on the back, you can use the excess fabric that you use away from the sleeves. Works like a charm. (Ha!) When cutting the front, cut a very shallow half-circle around the neck area, and you can attach the hood there. The tie is just fabric with lines drawn on with a sharpie.

Needless to say, this was wicked fun to present to him on the morning of the party. Knitting content to come eventually. I'm working on a swap package atm, so I'll have to wait until the package is sent to reveal all of the loveliness within.

Whomp.

That would be the sound of my head hitting the table. I'm exhausted, and sadly not even that hung over. But it was a busy month. Blissfully free from company, our little family really enjoyed the holiday season this year. There was much pyjama wearing, and many many days filled with just lazing around the house. But I guess that you're here to see the Christmas handmades, right?

This year, I sent around an email to my nearest and dearest family asking them if they would prefer to receive either a book or a handmade item. The responses to this email heartened me muchly - there were only two people who asked for a book instead of a handmade item. (And thanks for calling me cheap, Dad. Yeah. Thanks a lot.) Everyone else was very enthused about the prospect of a handmade item. The requests came in, and the result were:



Fingerless mittens and a plastic bag holder (like this one) for my SIL. She also received a slouchy Tuva hat in silky Malabrigo.



My MIL received a camera, kitted out with a handmade case.



My FIL received a black touque, sadly missed in the spree of photo taking.

My Dad received the Thorpe posted a few posts back. Accompanied by the autobiography of Robert Herjavec, one of the VCs on Dragon's Den. (Love that show.)

My Mum was the lucky recipient of the Odessa, also from the same previous post. And a handmade bag, also forgotten picture-wise. But I used this Keyka Lou pattern - it turned out to be totally adorable.

I gave my one brother a pair of socks, as requested.



I'm thinking that I may have to knit him another pair, as these are a little wild for him to wear. (He's a banker, whaddya gonna do.)

My other brother asked for handmade handkerchiefs, as he was bored with stuffing his breast pocket with plain white ones.



I hope they're not too colourful for Wall Street.

Both of my brothers also received signed books by David Sedaris. I was lucky enough to go to his signing here in Dartmouth, driven by the express purpose of getting him to sign books for both of my brothers. Enduring the sheer amount of hipsterism contained in that store ALONE makes me a candidate for best sister of the year, if I do say so myself. Yeesh.

My lovely SIL asked for a chunky cowl.



Knit in Malabrigo Rasta (which is the most delicious super bulky yarn EVER), I am pleased to report that she was delighted with it. And highest praise for a knitter, she put it on right after opening the present and didn't take it off until she got home.

Lastly, Mr. Munchkin's teacher has done an outstanding job so far. And so she made it onto the knit-worthy list with a pair of mittens.



More Malabrigo, of course. Accompanied by a box of chocolates.

As for my kids - they asked for and received much plastic frippery. DH was given a few framed pictures of our trip to Iceland, amongst other things. And as for myself, I was given the gift of peace, happiness and joy on earth. Oh, and a wicked cool slow cooker. Couldn't ask for anything more. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday season too.

Handwork...

So, what I found while doing NaNo is that I need to make things. NEED. Otherwise I go a bit barmy. (More than the usual amount of barminess, that is.) So here's the latest:



A baby hat, part of a shower gift. Julie's Cabled Baby Hats is the pattern, I think.



Another Odessa, made in silk that I dyed black.



A Thorpe, but sans earflaps as requested.



The Winter Sanity Swap package that I sent to my partner. The cupcake tree ornament was particularly fun to make.

Tragically, the package that I sent out originally for the Zombie Swap was lost by Canada Post. So I have been making up a replacement package. I made a Thermis cowl with Sculpey brain buttons and a set of fingerless gloves, one meant to look like bloody decomposing flesh.







Nice, hey? I still have to send out the package, as I'm waiting on something I ordered to arrive. Epic fail, Canada Post... EPIC.

I have other FOs, but they'll be posted after the holidays. <3

Holy crap.

I did it. I wrote 50K worth of words in one month. Seriously, I'm just as shocked as you all are. So, things that I learned this NaNoWriMo session:

1) It's not possible to do this without taking days off and then writing like mad to catch up. Well, maybe it is. But not if you're married (and want to stay married) and have kids.

2) Most of what I wrote is utter pap. But there are some really very good bits in there that I'm proud of.

3) I'm not even half-way through the story. Sad as that is, it's good in another way - it means that I get to get to the good parts now.

4) It's REALLY fun to write about Vikings beheading each other. (Heh.)

5) I'm astonished that I managed to write this much. I'm stupefied that some of it is really good. I'm delighted, 'cause now I get to edit the hell out it. And maybe I'll even start thinking about getting it published. As a book. A really real book. Only thing is...I have no idea where to even start with the whole publishing gambit. Maybe I'll just finish the book first.

Anyway, even though I am acutely aware of the rampant plagiarism that plagues the InterWebz, I'm going to post the first few paragraphs of the book here, all of which are TOTALLY UNEDITED and written under the shadow of some serious sleep deprivation. Enjoy. Feel free to leave comments and criticism. I'm a big girl, and can take it. Not to mention that no matter how much someone ladles out the nasty...no one's going to take away the fact that I am a bad ass writing mo-fo. Word to ya mama, indeed.

***

She knelt in front of the large river stone, and poured her bounty onto its smooth surface. To her dismay, a few of the hazelnuts slipped off the slick surface and bounced down the slope until they plopped into the rushing waters of the river Fane.
Displeased with herself, she frowned, set her jaw in determination and carefully set the rest of her treasures to the side of the stone, settling them in a small depression in the muddy earth. Next, she cast around until she found a small, heart-sized rock. Clutching her tool in one hand, she delicately placed a single hazelnut on the smooth river stone and smashed it with her newly prized weapon of choice.

Her deft fingers picked apart the hazelnut from the remains of the shell, and she greedily scooped the nut meat into her mouth. The summer had been cold, and there had been much hunger in her village that season. As she cheerfully chewed on the savoury treat, the remains of the shell were gently placed to her side with great care. They were soon joined by the shattered shells of other hazelnuts, and the pile grew high in short order.

The soft sunbeams of the afternoon struggled to break through the clouds that had covered the land for days. She lifted her head to their occasional warmth, grateful for the sensation that flooded the sky. She did not realize that she had been shivering, but then again, youth often forgets to feel pain. It is only the old who remember the aches of the flesh and who sigh with the weight of their burdens. The young carry all of their woes lightly, and do so without the benefit of a long memory.

The light shimmered and reflected off of the girl’s glorious hair, and the colours mirrored the shades of the dead leaves surrounding her feet. As hungry as she was, she made sure not to gorge herself on the nuts immediately. She set aside a small pile of the nuts and set herself to the task of building her mighty armada.

The next step in building her grand navy was to find twigs and leaves of the perfect size. Fortunately, the forest floor was covered with the detritus of the changing seasons. She quickly collected a small bundle of twigs and carried them in her cloak, taking care not to snag her brat on any stray points of wood. Leaves were everywhere to be found, but she wanted very specific colours for the sails of her fleet. Only the brilliant red-orange leaves that looked like flames would do for her sails, anything less would be unworthy of her efforts.

As she stepped through the dim woods, she occasionally dropped to one knee and selected a leaf. It was examined with a studied scrutiny, and was either discarded summarily or was carefully placed in the makeshift pouch she had made from a corner of her cloak. As she knelt, the chilled mud soaked into the hem of her leine, but she was wholly unaware of either the filth or the cold. The falling of the leaves into a lush blanket of skeletal feathers hardly seemed to make a difference to the earth beneath her feet. It remained as clammy as it had remained all summer.

Finally satisfied that she had collected an adequate number of masts and sails, she made her way back to her shattered shells. She sat on the turf edging the river, making sure that she tucked her feet in and that her woollen dress was wound tightly around her. It would not do to return to her home with soaking wet shoes – she had been beaten before for lesser offenses. She winced slightly at the memory, and then reapplied herself to the task set before her.

Carefully, she took one of the largest shards of hazelnut shell, and gently fixed a small twig to it using the mud of the riverbank as glue. Then, one of the flaming leaves was gently pierced twice by the twig. And with the tiniest of motions, her flagship was ready. She continued building boats, carefully selecting only the largest pieces of shell and the proudest of leafy sails.

When she had built seven boats, she gathered them in her cloak and carefully brought them down to the edge of the river. She crouched down and set her fleet gently into the water, one by one. The breeze caught the sails of the first few, and they bobbed down the river with ever increasingly unsteady gaits. At last, the largest of her boats, her flagship, her pride and joy, set sail and headed down the river. It sailed true, and to her delight, went straight to the middle of the broad river and swiftly raced along the current.

Her attention was all for the little boats cascading down the river. So much so that she did not notice the large boat that was moving upstream until its shadow enveloped her tiny fleet. When she looked up at the warship in wonder, her gaze was returned by those of thirty heavily armoured men. Most of them stared at her impassively, and continued to row. One of them, however, lifted his hand to his mouth. He pursed his lips, and raised one finger to them, indicating that she should be quiet. Her terror was such that she could not have moved from the river’s edge, even if the thought had crossed her mind.

The boat continued on its way and she watched them silently sail upriver. It was only after they had disappeared around the bend of the river that she found her feet and fled into the forest. On the boat, one of the men had notched an arrow to his bow, and was tracking the fleeing girl’s back. But the man who had warned the girl to be silent, shook his head. The arrow was lowered, and Aideen continued to run through the forest, panicked and thinking only of the need to return home.