Does this ever happen to you? It happens to me. A lot. And not just when I am sewing. I often come up just a little short of what I need to finish a project. Oh well. The fix is usually simple. For that I am thankful. Cheers.
No explanation. It would take too long. Just know that I've been having myself a bit o' fun.
Edit: Truth is I found the graphic for my uni-poo tag already on my computer. One of my girls had downloaded it from somewhere. Turns out that the artwork I used was drawn by the lovely Jessie from Cakespy. Check it out. I am in love and didn't even know it. I hope I haven't crossed any copyright-ownership-in-good-taste-lines here, Jessie. I love your shop and your graphics. Next time I am Seattle, I must visit.
There has been some mischief afoot in the land of You Go Girl. A full investigation was conducted.
Follow-up: Victim of aforementioned crime spree has mitigated the damages caused by the vandal(s). She is very thankful that she put a stitch marker in her project to keep her stitches from unraveling. If she had failed to take such a precaution, she fears she would be filing a Missing Hat report in addition to the other charges.
I am like a hamster on a wheel. I keep running and running but I'm getting nowhere. Does this ever happen to you? I have so many plans for loveliness zipping through my brain. There are bits and pieces of started projects scattered everywhere I look. Little voices in my head keep saying:
"You should make a skirt. Oh, craft a flower fairy. They're sooo cute. Hey, maybe you should stitch something out of knit fabric now that Jezzie is your friend. Winter is coming. Crochet some mittens, would you? Don't forget to start a doodle stitch. You're spending tons of time in the car. Wouldn't it be fun to hand-craft some felt ornaments? And, don't forget to learn to knit. You know you want to make that gorgeous felted bag you saw. Mr. Handsome's shirt needs a fix. You better hem your pants. A gal can only wear capris for so long in Montana. Are ever going to paint the shelves for Hailey's room? She is a senior, after all."
Stop it! Stop it! Creative schizophrenia. I have it. I go to my little studio to do something and I end up crying uncle. I leave my creative sanctuary and opt to do something totally mindless like changing the litter box or vacuuming under the couch cushions. The other day, I even made a batch of cookies. Yes. Me. In the kitchen. I'm telling you, it's bad, people. I've decided that today is the day to end this insanity. I'm going in and I'm not coming out until I've made something. Anything. Sheesh...
Whew! Let me take a little breath here. I feel like the mayor of Crazy Town...
It is Spring break so the girls are home from school and looking for some fun. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday we were in Spokane, WA. We went to the Rock and Worship Roadshow (Mercy Me, David Crowder Band, and five more bands. $10 tickets. No joke. Serious fun!!), ate like pigs, shopped like crazy, and enjoyed each other's company.
Today is Emily, Becca, and Libbie's birthday. I can't believe my triplet girls are TWELVE. Next year I will have FIVE teenage girls, but let's not borrow crazy from tomorrow. There is enough to go around today.
Paige has a birthday on Monday. She's lookin' FOURTEEN in the face.
And just to keep things interesting, Easter is tucked in between the birthdays this year.
Spring break, four birthdays, and Easter all in the same week. CRAZY. I tell you. C-R-A-Z-Y!
I have some handmade birthday goodness to share, but I can't show you just yet. I wrapped the little honeys before I snapped a picture. I'll show you the felty goodness soon.
Until then I've got a couple of other things I can share. These bags were custom orders. Well, one was a custom order. I made two so that there would be a selection for my customer to choose from. I planned to sell one to her and put the other one in my empty little Etsy shop. When I took the bags to her work place, she picked the one she liked and another lady in her office bought the other bag. SHAZAM! I love it when that happens.
She picked the dragonfly bag, just in case you are wondering.
That's all for now. I must get back to the birthday, Easter, Spring break celebrations. The girls are downstairs laughing wildly about some pictures they took in Photobooth on the Mac. I think I'm missing out on the insanity fun.
Up next today...Bowling. I haven't bowled since Ronald Reagan's first term as president. The shoes *ick* me out. But what's a mom to do. The triplets think it's a riot to bowl. You only turn twelve once so I'm off to knock over a few pins. Very few, I'm sure. Am I too old for gutter bumpers? Please say no...
Signing off from Crazy Town~
PS--Now you know why I have been so bad, bad, bad at responding to your comments and emails. I've read and enjoyed all of them. (All of them except that naughty, naughty spam that made its way into my comments. I hope none of you clicked on it.) Thanks, friends.
My mom had a birthday yesterday. So I went to Target and bought one of these.
I had big plans for it. Instead of sliding a photo into the mug, I was going to make a mini-quilt, if you will, and slide it in. Brilliant! In my mind this was going to be so cool. So I perused my fabric. I selected a killer combination. I did a little measuring, a little cutting, a little sewing. I ended up with this.
I was quite pleased with myself. With eager anticipation, I snipped off the last thread and went to slide my masterpiece into the mug. Not going to happen!!
Fabric + Interfacing=Too thick.
Oh. Yes. A snit was in order... I roared my terrible roar and rolled my terrible eyes. I gnashed my terrible teeth and showed my terrible claws. There was even some snatching of hair. Until finally I said, "Be still." (Any WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE fans out there? I haven't seen the movie, but I love the book. It was a staple on the bookshelf in my classroom and in my girls' room.)
"Be a problem solver, not a problem maker," I told myself. I thought, and I thought, and I thought. I had to settle for the next best thing. I made a trip to Kinko's to make a colored copy of my masterpiece.
Not exactly what I had in mind, but it would have to do. I carefully cut out the counterfeit and slid it in the mug. As I said before, not quite my vision but what's a girl to do? I'm pretty sure my mom will still love it. Happy Birthday to the best mom on the planet...
Now what am I going to do with my mini-quilt masterpiece? It's the perfect shape for a small apron. Perhaps the the cat would like one? I'll be sure to post a picture if that's what I decide to do. LOL!
I would've stitched this together a long time ago but for the fact that I lost the linen I needed to create the bag. How do you lose a yard of linen? I looked in my green fabric stack. Not there. Looked in the linen stack. Not there. Looked behind the craft table. Not there. I moved my whole studio to a different room in the house...The linen was not there. So the little doodle sat, and sat, and sat just waiting for something exciting to happen to it. I finally admitted to myself that I had lost the fabric and would need to purchase a bit more to finish this little beauty. Luckily my favorite local shop still had the same bolt of linen and the glory bag finally came to fruition.
And for those of you who are wondering why I am capturing squirrels...Well, they taste just like chicken. Just kidding. I'm not making squirrel coq au vin. I'm involved in a covert mission called Operation Squirrel Relocation. These little squirrel-y guys eat the bark off the giant willow trees in my back yard. Their gluttonous feasting makes huge limbs on my trees die. These little villains cuties are killing my trees. The tree man that came to my house to diagnose the problem recommended that we, ahem, "knock them off" since they are not a native species to the area even though they inhabit almost every neighborhood in town. Well, as you can imagine in a house with six girls, squirrel extermination is not an option. Instead, we catch them and release them in the willow-tree-free park that is about a mile away. I don't know if there are any rules prohibiting such activity, or not. Just to be sure, I only take the squirrels to the park under the cover of darkness. Just kidding, again. I do feel a bit funny, though, when I am letting them go in the park--kinda like I'm flushing a pet alligator that's not so little or cute anymore down the toilet. This is different than that, though. Really. It is. The squirrels already live in the park. I'm just bringing more to the party.
I won't take the time today to tell you about the squirrel that got loose in the car when we were relocating it. Just know that there was a lot of girly screams, followed by million-mile-an-hour chatter and fits of giggles. We know there is a squirrel out there somewhere with a nervous tic and a tale of high-stakes adventure that he tells his squirrel buddies when he visits the local watering hole.
I'm sorry to report that the elves have unionized. They can no longer independently contract out, nor could I afford one if they could. Santa is paying them well.
Not one to take no for an answer, though, I have improvised. Introducing Tink the Amazing Christmas Elf... See post below. Go ahead. I'll wait.
I'm not sure she'll be much help, but she is amusing. If cats could talk, I'm sure she'd be looking down her nose saying, "Really. Must you make me look like an idiot." Come on, Tink. Get in the spirit. It's funny. It really is.
All my girls want me to elf them. I don't think this is getting anything checked off my "to do" list, but it's hoot. A little elf happy dance is good fuel to get you through. Try it.
My fluffy, long-haired, calico, kitty is now an exotic, sleek, velvety, lioness, princess, cat. That's what we're telling her anyway. The white hair puffs on my dark olive colored carpet finally got to me. So did the occassional hair ball that she would cough up...Ewww! I didn't want anyone here at home to have to deal with such yuckies while I was in China. Before I left, I took her in for a hair cut. Here is the result.
At first, I though she looked comical. Now I kinda like it. I think she looks very avante-garde. She feels just like velvet. I'm sure that some ancient Egyptian culture would worship her as queen of the universe. To us, she is still just our calico cat, Tinkerbell, who is loved a whole bunch. Go kitty!
It should be noted that kitty is not real impressed with her new 'do'. She fakes a shiver every time I look at her. Since her makeover, she has not slept on the end of my bed at night, like she usually does, nor has she graced me with her presence in my sewing room. Maybe my absence will soften up her heart?