bekka

a quilting we will go

Hands down, my favorite quilt pattern is log cabin. I dug out a few squares I made at least ten years ago in my first quilting class ever. Still haven't completed the project. Think I have two more squares, if I can find them, and then perhaps, I can revamp/refashion those into something snazzy. Yet I have an appreciation for all sorts of patterns like fans,  sweet simple nine patch, crazy quilts, Georgia rattlesnake, double wedding ring, grandma's garden, dresden plate, shoofly, the lively pinwheel pattern, yo-yos, maple leaf, and cathedral window. 

But Jacquie's tutorial made log cabin seem a bit more doable, within my grasp, and on my own. Let me tell you, that class I took ten years ago? Oh, I'm sure that I tried my teacher's patience. There was lots of action on my behalf with the seam ripper. What was so unusual about the class is that I was the only one, besides the teacher, who spoke English as her native language. There were 3 or 4 other women, all whose spouses worked for Siemens, and so one was from France, another from Holland, and perhaps the other two from Germany. But anyway, Jacquie's tutorial eases my mind because it contains lots of great photos, tips, and step-by-step explanations. And so, somewhere down the line, I'll try another log cabin project.

Gag, this seasonal table runner has me down a bit. Seems like I'll never get it finished. I worked on another flying goose strip Friday night. So maybe that is 2 I've completed? Out of a dozen? At that rate, it will take me another two weeks just to finish that phase of the project. But, I've learned something about paper piecing process and what works best for me. 

The way Linda taught us to approach the work reminds me a great deal of scientific management, or Taylorism. One of the tenets of Taylorism is developing a "science" for every job/project that includes regimented steps in the process. When Taylor went into a factory, he broke down a task and looked for the most efficient way to improve it.

So with the paper piecing method Linda teaches, it's very mechanized. You do the same step 8-12 times, or however many pieces you have to sew together. You fold your paper, trim the edges, match fabric to fabric and then stack the paper pieces one atop another. Once you've completed that step, you take your stack and run them through the sewing machine one by one by one. Then you slip the threads between each of those pieces and take them to the iron and iron your pieces the proper way.

I tried to love this method, but I do better with a bit more instant gratification.  I fiddled around with Linda's process and decided what worked best for me was not her method. I work on one piece at a time. Fold the paper, trim the fabric, sew it together, and then iron those pieces. Then on to the next step on that particular paper piece. In the end, I have one completed section rather than twelve pieces that still require a lot of work. It works better for me that way. I feel more productive, I guess. Or more satisfied.

Last night our quilting class met, and it whips me every time. I'm exhausted by 9 when I'm pulling together my notions and rotary cutter to go home. So instead of toiling away on my geese, Linda showed me how to put together that third, and last bit for the runner.  And there were only two pieces, which I completed in class, hooray. Now just those geese to finish up. Diane had much of her sections sewn together and so Laura and I watched as her runner reached completion. Linda showed Diane how to cut strips on the bias for its binding, and I'm sure Diane selected a backing, too.

Laura and I are supposed to call Linda in a few weeks, or maybe two months or so, when we're ready to assemble everything. And by the way, I told Linda how I'd shucked off the process for paper piecing that she showed us in class and she smiled and said something to the effect that eventually I'd return to the method which she showed us. Just don't know. I'm still skeptical.

Took a while for me to get Laura's loaner (my circa 1980-something Singer) working. Winding its bobbin always winds me up. But the problem last night was that the bobbin I tried was defective. Ugh. Was upset with the machine at first because it's the first time I've used it since retrieving it from the service man. So glad to finally get it working for Laura though.

Seriously though, quilting and sewing really appeals to me at this point in my life, much more so than does knitting, and I cannot understand it. Maybe it's that I've got a languishing knitting project that I've had several problems with. Now that I've developed the negative association with the project, I don't ever want to work on it again for fear that I'll encounter more problems. Does that ever happen to you? I know, I should buck up and not let those possibilities inform my knitting so much. Perhaps I can motivate myself to get my mind right and enter a phase of No Fear Knitting!

The other issue I'm dealing with at this point is my back. It aches almost everyday. That's not conducive to any type of creativity, unfortunately. All I want to do is recline and read. Getting lots of reading done, that's for sure, but my other projects are rather wasting away.

And, I'm seriously contemplating yet another quilting project. As I mentioned in a prior post, Quiltfest is next month. Linda had samples of the quilts/projects that each class would work on hanging in the shop. Diane is taking the Strips & Curves class, and the project sample is gorgeous, but I decided that choosing fabric for that would be beyond my ken. Besides that class, Linda suggested that two others would be good for beginning quilters: Big Tumble and Bamboo & Pinwheels.

not my den, but an idea of the color to complement w/project

There's a space in my den, on the wall that encases our fireplace's back, that sorely needs something hanging there. The color is called Jalapeno or maybe Hot Pepper. At the Glidden site I found Hot Pepper, but it looks a lot more yellow and brown than the color on my wall. I've never hanged anything there because when we use the fireplace, maybe 2-4 times each winter, that wall gets quite hot. My concern is that whatever hangs there could ignite and fry us in our beds. Simply removing the item while we've got a fire going seems like the best solution. Anyway, I think that the project I begin during Quiltfest will be the one to hang on this wall.

Big Tumble, lovely as it is, has a distinct Optic effect. Reminds me of Qbert in the days that I spent the whole of my $5 weekly allowance at the Gold Mine, our Mall's arcade. And the thing about Bamboo & Pinwheels is this: You get two quilts for the price and effort of one. You stack and sew and the pieces you use in the quilt/wall hanging come together. But then your remainders are also sewn together into a throw, or another wall hanging if you so desire. Seems like a good deal to me.

Now it comes down to color choices, and of course, signing up for the class. You chose dark, medium, and light tones in your fabric/patterns. I'm thinking brown, orange, and yellow or blue. Just don't know which will please me and suit my room. And the sample is made with Asian-inspired fabrics, but I probably won't do that, either.

got geese, er one goose strip

Whew. Finally learned how to make the second part of my seasonal table runner, the flying geese aspect, last night. Finished up my spikes a few weeks ago. Four will be sewn together to form the center of the runner, actually three vertical centers. And then flying geese will enclose, or fly around the spikes. And then there's one last part to piece before I start sewing it all together and then finishing this runner up. I'm not certain I love my color choices and even wonder if every time I use this table runner whether I'll cringe at my extremely bad taste. At least I got to use some of the green. I'm so tired of the black and peach, or almost-peach, whatever this putty-like color is.

Surely I'll find time this week to make the other dozen or so rows of flying geese. Surely. That's my goal. Don't have anything planned any evening this week, and so it is doable. That is, if I'm not feeling lazy and decide to knit by the television. I know, how ironic is that? My last baby post was very anti-tv and here I am talking about knitting via tv. Maybe instead I'll turn on XM and listen to BBC for a few hours, remain true to my values and all. Or, better yet, I can convince Laura to let me teach her how to start her flying geese and we can work on the project together and I can hear all about her fascinating trip to Amish country, Ohio.

I'm actually pretty stupid when it comes to putting together projects. If not for Linda, there is absolutely no way that I could follow the pages and pages of dense instructions included in my pattern. Read a blog entry the other day at Sew Mama Sew about how people approach patterns differently depending upon their learning orientation. I have no idea what my learning orientation is. When I taught myself to knit via a book, my techniques were corrected by my LYSO the first class I took with her. I wasn't knitting exactly right. Was twisting a stitch, or something. So really, I work best when someone sits down and shows me how to make something in real time, in person.

Normally, I love to read, so being a Print-Oriented Learner is most natural to me, but that's when I'm reading for information, only. My approach to putting together furniture or anything that arrives with instructions is to disregard those from the start, examine the parts, nuts, and bolts, and try until I get it right. That falls into the Tactile-Kinesthetic Learners category, the last on the page that Kristin mentions.

Last night at quilting class, I learned a fair amount from watching Linda teach another class that met at the same time as ours. When she has really slow learners, such as me, she keeps letting them come in to class, so oftentimes one class overlaps another. Two women were finishing up a wall hanging and another was basting the layers together in a different Judi Niemeyer quilt. So now that I've almost got the hang of this paper piecing down, dare I contemplate trying another of her quilts? Tennessee Quilts offered a Japanese Fan class last year, and I so wanted to take that, and make that, but I didn't. It's probably my favorite JN pattern of all.

Basically I learned that I'm going about my quiltmaking the wrong way. When you plan on handquilting, you're supposed to baste the layers together instead of pinning with safety pins because attaching your hoop to the layers is made more difficult by closely placed safety pins. When machine quilting, safety pins are the best choice because you can navigate around them easier.

I half-listened as Linda told the Diane and Betty how to finish up their wall quilts. She suggested making your own binding from your fabric. And then showed them how to do that. I didn't listen closely to mitering their corners, because I'm good with that already. But she did say something about sewing the binding together at 45 degree angles to make the binding. I didn't watch, but feel I could probably replicate that on my own.

The non-quilting conversation was interesting. Betty just returned from Taiwan where she accompanied her daughter on her quest to adopt a toddler boy. She loved Taiwan, said that the Taiwanese were delightful, happy, helpful people. There was a 6.0 earthquake while they were there. Her daughter turned to Taiwan because their endeavors to adopt in China ground to a standstill when she was told it would be another eight years before there would be a child available for her to adopt. I count my blessings everyday that I was able to conceive. The extreme expense of adoption made that an impossible option for us. We we lucky.

So my method of binding is to make the backing an inch or two larger than the top. Then I fold it over twice and then sew it to the top. But, I know that's not the "right" way to do it. Linda uses her rotary cutter and squares up everything before trimming away the excess.

Another thing I've mentioned before is that Linda uses the green Papermate felt tip pen to mark her quilting patterns. But I didn't realize that you marked before you basted or pinned. Duh. Oh well. Linda said that if you use chalk to mark your quilt top that the humidity here causes it to evaporate too quickly. And, that if you want that antiqued crinkly look to your quilt after washing it, you should use cotton batting which will shrink, thus causing that effect.

What else? Oh, I asked her about pre-washing and drying before cutting and piecing your quilt together because that's one of the requirements for this Doll Quilt Swap 4 that I'm doing; already know my partner's name and blog, and I'm seriously considering exploring this flying geese pattern to the hilt on her, unless I discover that she'd absolutely hate that. Linda usually doesn't pre-wash if the quilt is an arty one to be displayed on a wall. But if it'll be washed and used often, she pre-washes. She said that normally you don't have any problems with batiks since they're sun-dried and have the wax treatment on the surface as well. But there was this one time that a customer used a red batik and when they went to soak the quilt to remove the markings, it bled horribly. Linda chalked it up to an inferior batik fabric that she no longer carries in her store, but eventually, they were able to get most of the red smears out of the quilt, though Helen (I think was her name) said that there were still a few subtle spots.

Spending all this time around quilts and quiltmakers makes me want to take a class or two during Quiltfest. My gosh, I have no idea how long it's been going on, at least 10, maybe 20 years? From time to time I take note of it, but have never taken any classes. One offered this year is the Amy Butler Weekender Travel Bag.  Another I'm sort of interested in is the Civil War Sampler. I'm sure I'd enjoy any one that I took. And would no doubt learn scads of new skills, but how to choose? Silly me, I asked Linda about whether they had the classes at different venues around Jonesborough and she kind of laughed and said they had not done it that way in years. The event actually takes place in JC, my town, at Millennium Centre. They've booked ten big rooms to hold classes in. It's sad the festival is no longer in Jonesborough. It's so quaint and the cafes are yummier than anything nearby in JC.

spikes ahoy

An idea of how it will appear when sewn together
Finally finished those spikes, just the first of three sets of paper piecings I must complete before sewing them all together into the form of Seasonal Table Runner. Meant to work on them through the week. My class meets each Monday. From Monday to Monday I could, I should do my homework. I have not.

I've watched too much TV and it's all in the name of finishing that blasted baby carrying case I started knitting ages ago. Sorry, no photos; not until it's done, I suppose;l don't want to bore you with an amorphous-looking garter stitch project that is difficult to make heads or tails of. But I'm almost done with the drat thing. Have one of the front panels to complete. Then picking up stitches for the hood. Then sewing it all together. Hope to finish in a week or two. And I must say I'm very upset with that Debbie Bliss. This pattern is so frustrating. Just at one point, that is. Maybe I didn't read it well enough. I'll try to explain:

First you knit the back and then you cast on both sides for the sleeves. This carrying case is essentially knit in one piece, which is good. Once you come over the shoulders to the front and work on the chest/front pieces, you're to stop at 16 inches. Only, when I compared that to the length at the back it didn't match, so I kept on knitting, regardless of the 16 inches instruction. There was no differentiation between the 16 inches and the next step. Basically, you stop at 16 inches, leave your needles in there, and go back to the shoulder and begin knitting down the front on the other side. Once you reach 16 inches on that front side, you then join both front panels and knit the last 10 or so inches as one wide panel. If that makes sense.

In theory, I can unravel those inches on the first completed front panel and then do it the right way eventually. I just feel so put upon; lied to, almost. The directions just are not that clear. There should be more steps, more explanation to what I was supposed to do. Otherwise I'll have to mattress stitch up those last 10 inches and still have to find a suitable zipper. Not so sure I'm stoked about hand-sewing a zipper into my bag.

Right, so instead of working on quilting homework, I've been knitting, and watching movies. P.S. I Love You was much better than I expected. And Into the Wild, was a bit dreamy, a bit philosophical, but I liked it. I read the book soon after it was published; I'm always up for new books, mostly memoir, about Alaska. While watching the film I tried keeping in mind that while Alexander Supertramp was barely surviving outside Fairbanks, I was slinging frozen and fresh fish twelve-plus hours each day on a slime line in Sitka, AK. For many years I considered the year I spent in Alaska the best year ever. Now, I'm not so sure. The romanticism of it has faded. I'm in touch with very few people from that part of my life, so the memories fade, too. Still, I yearn for Alaska and dream of returning, someday. Silly to wish for retirement to Alaska, right? Since everyone else is headed south to Boca.

Anyway, I'm eager to start some other knitting project. Actually, I want to finish this and then solely concentrate on quilting. I'm hesitant to knit too many darling objects for my baby because figuring out whether she/he could wear this at that age and that time of year is rather mind boggling; too much planning ahead and guesstimating. I can't really do much with my table runner at this point because the next section are Flying Geese, and I want instruction from Linda, our teacher on this project, before proceeding with those. Last time I proceeded ahead, thinking I knew what I was doing, I ended up ripping out at least four of my spikes. Then when I appeared at Tennessee Quilts Monday morning I discovered Laura made the same mistake as did I the previous week. Luckily I was there to help her out. And now, she has all her spikes complete, too. So next Monday, or possibly this Saturday, I can get more help from Linda regarding those Flying Geese.

paper piecing pain

Monday night's quilting class was rough. I understood just enough of what our teacher explained to be dangerous. Rather, I understood the concepts, if not the exact techniques.

First, there was all this standing and cutting. Cutting through 10 and 12 layers of fabric and then cutting out paper quilt piecing pieces. Way too many p's. This could be a tongue twister.

We spent much of the evening cutting out pieces and only in the last ten or fifteen minutes of class did we haul out the sewing machines and begin sewing. Ahem, piecing. But even trying this so-called "gentle art" my back ached. I crawled into bed as soon as I arrived home.

This class, this project, is way more involved than I imagined. And I roped Laura into it. She's never used a sewing machine before in her life. I planned to loan her one of my Singers, but I took in the circa 1984 one to have it serviced, almost two weeks ago and the guy hasn't called me yet. That means that he hasn't gotten to mine yet. Ho hum. Luckily the shop had an extra machine that Laura could use. It was a Pfaff, and was pretty nice.

My circa 1997 Singer was the loudest machine going. Rat-a-tat-tat. Sounded like a machine gun. I was embarrassed to sew. Felt like I was working-class piece-sewing factory girl, even though those are my origins (fyi: Grandma, Aunt Donna, Aunt Ruthie, and even my Mom did stints as piece-work sewers at Industrial Garment of Erwin, Tn.),  toting in her industrial strength machine. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Just that everybody else's machines were super-subtle and quiet, which I think equates to high-end, expensive machines.  My complex surely lies in my librariaish nature: Quieter is better.

Anyway, the class was supposed to be just this one. Was I naive? Yup. Silly Rebecca thought we'd whip out that table runner in three hours. No way. No how. We stayed until about twenty of 10:00 p.m., believe it or not, just to make it through the rough stuff. I think our teacher was Linda. She said we'd meet at least two more times, possibly a third.

I'll need that help. I tried working on homework tonight and fear I fudged it up real good. I can always start over, with some close supervision and guidance. But ripping all that out, and cutting out more pieces. Sigh. I didn't have enough yardage for one, maybe two parts of the project anyway, and there were other women from the quilt shop who helped me select exact yardage I'd need according to my pattern.

So, lots of cutting. Come to think of it, the cutting was sort of fun. Then we set aside certain piles of fabric into specific plastic bags. That's another new technique I've learned. Is it a technique, or merely an organizational trick? Whatever it is, surely it foretells the difficulty ahead.

Linda said she'd be in Saturday that we could come in for help. Yup, I may very well do that, if the day is yucky and I can stand being inside.

I assured Laura that if she mastered this technique that doing normal quilts, like the simple square pieces in a square block that Traci showed us, would be a snap for her. I can't wait to finish this up so that maybe she and I can take on a really simple one like a Nine Patch or Picket Fence or some such.

lo-tech diversions

Jigsaw puzzles were worked on a card table set up in my step-father's apartment, long before he became my step-father. When he was just my mother's long-term boyfriend, we'd spend our evening hours each day at his place. John, the boyfriend-cum-step-father, loved jigsaw puzzles. Most of his were scenic: mills, autumnal leaves, the like. I never messed around with them too much. Didn't have jigsaw fever. But I associate them with my childhood and early pubescence.

Ian's fascination with them is rather frustrating. He buys them, but doesn't work them. We have scads of unopened jigsaw puzzles taking up space in the tops of our closets. I think he worked one or two in the ten years we've been together.  Some kind of WWII replica fighter plane that I bought his one year for birthday or Christmas. He claims that our glut of jigsaw puzzles is due to the lack of dedicated puzzle-working space: There is none.

Sure, most of our tables are piled with papers and books and everything else. And for the past few weeks our dining room table served as a gift-wrapping station. Then at the other end, my sewing machine sat, where's it's languished since, oh, August? That's because my sewing room is over-run with fabric and yarn and notions that I have no clear working space in there.

Despite all this, our dining room table was cleared Christmas Eve. Christmas morning Ian opened one of the presents I gave him. Actually, it was To: Ian, From: Fragile. When he asked about it, I said " Must be Italian."

Maybe you know where this is going? The leg lamp puzzle was boxed in a crate, similar to what the famous leg lamp arrived at the home of the Parkers. You know, Ralphie and his Red Ryder, carbine action two-hundred shot range model air rifle, with a compass in the stock and this thing which tells time?

We had the best time working it. We squeezed in thirty or forty minutes that morning after I made a vidalia onion and goat cheese pie to take to his brother's house, and managed to put together its edges. Then we had to go to his brother's house by noon. Around four thirty we returned home and got back to the puzzle, but then had to go to my mom's house by six. We didn't leave her house until ten thirty, and it was the strangest thing: I really wanted to get home to get back to working that puzzle. I ached to return to it.

It came together quickly. I worked on central part, the leg lamp, as those pieces were very different from the others. We completed it Christmas night, actually. Then we opened a puzzle Ian brought home for me a few weeks ago. It's an English Springer Spaniel puppy sitting on a beach chair with an umbrella in the background.  We worked on it for a day or two, but since we've returned to work, it remains unfinished. I'm not as excited about it. Neither is Ian. But it was the closest unopened puzzle I grabbed while still in my jigsaw puzzle working fervor.

Josie popped in a piece or two when she stopped by. I forgot that she used to be a puzzle freak, too. She glued hers together and tacked them to her bedroom walls. Her mom still has the Van Gogh Irises puzzle up that she worked, oh, twenty years ago.

write myself a letter

The number of first class letters mailed in the United States in 1994 was 55 billion. Last year it was 42 billion. That's a decline of thirteen billion letters.

Sure, it's probably good news for trees. But for people? It must be depressing to open your mailbox and find nothing personal inside. Bills are pretty personal, but besides the occasional card, who writes letters anymore?

I'm good about sending postcards when I travel. I love postcards, I collect them, even.

Occasionally I write an actual letter. Kelli pointed out the letter-writing initiative that the Fetzer Institute is sponsoring. And I started this post on 7/16 and planned to write a letter, then include a photo of said letter simply for illustrative purposes. But haven't found time to do that so far.

an ode to african kelli

Have to drive 360 degrees around my neighborhood in order to line up my car with my mailbox. I got my camera out as I pulled around because I saw the package strapped to my mailbox from a distance. My plan was documentation of frankly, freaky and strange mail carrier behavior.

But it was a happy package that I received from the astonishingly thoughtful Kelli. All those goodies. Oh my! Ignore the stack of books on the right. Everything to the left, Kellie sent to me. Three knitting books, three postcards from the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe (one of my dream destinations) several Day of the Dead and Frida-inspired notecards, and a pack of Japanese stationary.

Did you see these cards? Oh I love them. And I won't want to use them. Or send them. Just want to keep them all to myself.

She knows how much I love postcards. I collect them. Rarely send them. Oh, I buy and send postcards when I travel. But lots of cards I buy to keep to look at. And these cards? Wow. I don't have any of them already. The colors are perfect. They match my living room.

I lamented my poor mantle and how unhappy I was with it's state of drabness. But those cards look like they belong there. Oh sigh. Such a perked up mantle.

mothers and others

Daily purl reminded me of how much I liked Eunny's Anemoi Mittens. I bought the pattern. I hate fair isle. At least, I think that's what it is. There's a chart, too. Hate those. Yuck. But, my mom admired the mittens I received from Rae for the mittenswap, so I thought I'd try to knit her a pair in time for Valentine's Day.

The things we do for our parents.

So goes my Dad's sweater vest, too: Valentine's Day, my new deadline. Sweater is red and appropriate to the holiday. A few days ago I realized that I'm knitting my waistband on the wrong size needles. Yeah. So, let's rip again like we did last week. And start again on US 5 instead of US 7 only to return to the sevens.

Is the universe telling me something? Or are there special lessons to learn from knitting? Like patience? I'm not patient. Not always. But I'm getting better. Knitting helps with that. It's patience therapy. And there's something else, something I haven't put my finger on yet. What lessons does knitting teach you?

Hello more ornaments. And I bought this punch tool. I spend more time and money at that scrapbook store. I swear, I'm not turning into a scrapbooker. Not that that's a bad thing to be, but it's not my bag, baby. I didn't even want this tool. It is pink. But, it punched the size holes I needed, and the lady who sold it to me said that it punches through tin. Like I'll ever do that. You never know though.

Was never a boy scout--I just married one (kind of like, why be a doctor when you can marry one?) that's NOT my thinking)--but I believe in being prepared. What I really wanted was a simple hole punch whose hole sizes one can adjust. And it's likely there was one at Michael's, but two things kept me from driving over there on lunch yesterday: Holiday Shopping Traffic and that Michael's is a chain and Cropper's Coral (and I don't live in the southwest, ride 'em scrapbooker) is locally owned.

Ian liked these. He asked if I made them for us. No, I told him. He was disappointed. Again. It seems he grows weary of my making things for others and nothing for us. But we have oodles of ornaments and don't need anymore. Unless, we erect another tree. I made these for the comrades in my department at work.

Oh Lordy, it's Elvis singing Here Comes Santa Claus on WNCW. I knew I loved that station for some reason. But that reminds me that I ought to drag out my Elvis Christmas CD. I'm so serious. Elvis is the King. I love Blue Christmas, too. My grandfather used to sing it and twang his guitar for GMaw--a major Elvis fan--and me. Plus, the GPaw still sports seventies-era Elvis-inspired lambchop/muttonchop sideburns. Imagine a cross between Elvis and Grandpa Munster, and that's my GPaw.

list of luxuries

Since this blog is about me anyway, I might as well give into Kelli's suggestion to share my Christmas list here. She told Santa that she worries about his belly. I wouldn't get on his bad side by pointing out his flaws.

Naturally I want World Peace and an end to hunger in the world; those top my list of wishes. But she said those shant be on our lists cause they're givens.

Here goes:

1. A dress form because I sew clothes so much.

2. A Wacky Pack or World Lomography Box. That Tonya, she beat me to a Lomo Supersampler! Like I need another camera. I'd love a medium-format Hasselblad or Mamiya and while you're at it Santa, a vintage Leica too, please. And some film, and I'll need a darkroom, as well. Some professional lights, props, and backdrops would set me on my way on my new career as a professional portrait photographer. Maybe your elves can set that up in my basement? I make great gingersnaps, but I'll cook a full meal for you and the elves and any other helpers you wish to bring on this project. And I'll take and print photos of you and the elves for Mrs. Claus and all the elves' significant others/families.

3. With all the cooking and dishwashing and swimming I'm doing, my hands are getting dry. Lemon lotion (CO Bigelow) soothes my rough hands and netherparts.

4. A Bundt cake holder (at Williams Sonoma) or a trad Tupperware cake carrier.

5. Black Orchid cologne by Tom Ford cause it smells so good in those magazine inserts.

6. A letter press would be nice. Start here at Briar Press. I could learn a new skill and fill my house with one more piece of rarely-used equipment.

7. An $8,0000 platinum & sapphire ring I left in San Antonio; not that I ever owned it, just that there was no way I could buy it, so it remained at J. Adelman's. I think it's gone, but the Platinum and Ruby ring for $10,000 might make up for it. Don't get me wrong, I'm a costume jewelry woman through and through, but it doesn't hurt to window shop. I tried the sapphire on, even. Sheesh. I'm a dreamer.

8. Bookshelves and then more books for them.

9. I could see which pots are clean and usable if only I had a a pot rack to hang from the kitchen ceiling like in all those fancy-schmancy kitchens seen in magazines.

10. My circa-1960 hobnail light fixture in the dining room is not my style, so something new and wrought iron swinging above my table does a hostess good.

But the only one of these that I really NEED is bookshelves. The rest is all cake. I can carry cakes to events on plates wrapped with cling wrap. And the bookshelves aren't really necessities. I can stack them all around my house until it resembles a junked up Appalachian Pisa with multiple leaning towers of books. And who needs lotion when there's Crisco, lard, and all manner of vegetable oils in the houuuuuuuuuuuuse?

A fun exercise nonetheless. Ian asked me if I'd like the accordion I'm using as my Christmas gift. My teacher offered to sell it to me for $150; much cheaper than I imagined. But it's old. And I met it's previous owner at the Cranberry Thistle Saturday night. And learned a bit about it history. The original owner was Hungarian. He lived in NY and then CT and then? Who knows. Then, it was rescued from someplace wet. It still has a bit of stink, but a tolerable stink, to it. My accordion has flava.

birthday butterfly blanket bingo

Lookie, a sweater I finished early Sunday just in time for my sister's twentieth birthday. Saturday I traveled to Asheville in search of buttons. Found a great many at half off at Asheville Cotton Company, then popped in a storefront or two down to AC Moore (my first time there) and bought more there. It was my third stop where I bought the buttons that blend so well with the sweater's buttery color that you cannot really y see them. Yarn Paradise has great buttons. I bought bunches and bunches of them. It's a lovely shop in Biltmore Village, but I almost always feel a super-negative vibe upon entering the space. I've left the shop once or twice because the wait in line was too much to stand. Nonetheless, I was happy to find the perfect buttons there. Also bought a few skeins of yarn, but won't go into that.

Sunday I cleaned the living room and dining room so that we could entertain my dad, step-mom, and my sister (half-sister) after dinner. We met at Red Lobster. I'm not a fan, but it was Jessica's birthday; her choice, and her first time there. After cleaning I made a chocolate Guinness cake. It cooled while we dined. I invited everyone home to eat cake. The candles really surprised Jessica. I was glad to do it.

So more about the cake. This was the second time I made it. And it's rather fun and different. You mix it together in a wide saucepan. First you pop the lid on a bottle of Guinness and melt butter with the beer. Then you add other stuff like sour cream, eggs, cocoa, sugar, vanilla, flour, and baking soda. It cooks in a spring-form pan. The icing is a package of cream cheese, confectioner's sugar, and whipping/heavy cream. Iced properly and it mimics the head on a great draft of Guinness. The recipe is from Feast or Endless Summer, I can't right recall, one of Nigella's brilliant books.

I think she blew them all out, but am not sure as I was fussing around with the camera. The light! It was too dim. Just before they left (I know, I'm skipping ahead, but there's nowhere else to interject a few words about the accordion), I remembered that I had not played my accordion for my family. Dad was interested in my music book; he's the real musician. Margie, my step-mother, said she always liked accordion music. Jessica was speechless. I'm sure she wondered how her sister went down that path.

She models her birthday sweater. When my dad saw it in the box, he got all grumpy. I jumped in with "You wear a shirt or camisole under it." I didn't love the sweater when it merely flopped there on the hanger. But it looked cute on Jessica. I don't think she minded, or noticed, that there were a few things off about it. Like one side is a hair longer than the other. I don't know how it happened. There wasn't time to block it. You probably think me an irresponsible knitty gift-giver for not properly blocking it. But, I've never blocked anything. Maybe that's my problem. And then when I think about it, I'm usually unhappy with big projects I make, like sweaters. There's always a huge letdown when I finish a sweater because it's never as wonderful as I imagined it to be. Surely I'm not the only one to experience that?

Noah's baby blanket that I'm laboring away on. Ian likes the garter stitch edge. And he asked whether this would wash up easily. I assured him that it would. At this point, I'm possibly a quarter of the way through it. I doubt I'll have enough yarn. Yuck. You work 94 or 96 rows, then the middle initial thing, which is probably 12-24 rows, and then another 94/96 to end. When I cast on for it at my LYS Saturday one woman made ominous remarks about how much work a knitted baby blanket was when there are so many other lovely baby things to make.

Can't keep a good butterfly ATC down, these are almost winging their way to their final destinations. I've worked on for a few days and finished them just in the nick of time. I do try to keep busy, as you can tell.

Sweater Stats

Pattern: Eloise, Laines du Nord Simple Knits, Book 4
Yarn: Debbie Bliss Merino DK 504
Needles: US 5
Start date: 2 November 2006
Finished: 19 November 2006
Cost: 6 balls X $4.50 (via Destash)= $27  plus $7.50 for buttons= $34.50