I’ve been down with a cold for the past few days. I’ve made friends with the NyQuil bottle.

During my convalescence I revamped Cutemojo with a completely new look, new theme and re-installed the shopping cart that I took offline when I moved last year. I have to build another light box and start taking photos of my inventory now but the shop is otherwise ready for business.

Last night I started painting my Queen Anne doll. It was really difficult to make myself cut the joints and get started on her, because painting is where I will inevitably screw things up. Obviously I know gesso exists and if I really mess things up, it’s here for me to apply over and start again. Worst case scenerio: I have to cut, sew and stuff a new part. I would just rather get things right the first time.

I also know that this is a tendency that hangs me up on a lot of things, since I would much rather not try than risk failure. I’m excellent at not trying. I don’t usually think about it, but being sick tends to punctuate certain habits of mine that I don’t like very much. I cringe when I think of wasting supplies and materials and it takes some mental flexibility for me to see that my making mistakes and redoing bits is not really a waste.

After cutting the joints and setting the loose beads aside, I applied a thin layer of gesso directly to the linen where I planned on painting. Once the gesso dried I used antique white as the base coat.

Next I mixed a little instant coffee into clear sealer, not a smooth blend– only mixing enough to wet the granules without incorporating them into the varnish. If I’d been thinking I would have taken an in progress picture, because as the coffee/sealer is applied with the brush the granules do dissolve leaving sharp grains behind.

Then I followed with crackle finish and the same antique white that I started with. Since it’s a little paler and more uniform than I would like I’m going to do one more very light coat with the coffee/sealer blend, diluting it with a little more sealer to grunge up the finish a little before applying clear varnish and painting her features.

This is my progress so far. I deviated by embiggening the nose, leaving the hair bun off (for now at least, I’m still contemplating hair) and needle sculpting the face. I couldn’t find the right sized wooden beads in my craft stash but I happened to have the right sized glass pearls on hand.

I think the glass pearls work well for the joints. There’s something very compelling about the way they peek out from the muslin.

Tomorrow there will be (in theory at least) gesso and paint and the making of clothes, but tonight I’m just going to revel a little in my progress.

That’s right, relax and revel.

Someone asked what kind of stitch this is, the book that I have says it’s a flat stitch although another needlework dictionary shows a completely different stitch as a flat stitch. From a distance it almost looks like a cross-stitch (although it is definitely not a cross-stitch.)

The next color will be a cinnamon-ish color, slightly more red than the one before it. Sometimes I’m proud of the effect, and at other times I find myself wondering if it’s worth the effort.

Overall, I’m pleased with the progress I’ve made but I think I might take the next few days off and work on some instant gratification, or (who knows!?) maybe do a bit of knitting before returning to the tapestry needle.

So far, things are going pretty well, considering that I typically don’t do this kind of needlework and have never designed anything like this before.

I bought a vintage oak Stitchery box and started giving the linen canvas I had on hand the eye. Then somehow embroidery floss magically appeared in my shopping basket at the craft store so I think I ended up committed to this project on some level.

The plan is that once I finish the border I’m going stitch the phrase “Is minic a bhris béal duine a shrón” on it, fill in the background with a yet to be determined ground stitch and yet to be determined animal or plant, or something. It really depends on how long my attention span holds out.

shorty socks

And more socks.

They look more or less like the other socks that I’ve already finished. I did the longer cuffed socks first, now I’m just trying to squeeze out a few pairs of the shorties out of the skein ends.

There is something innately satisfying about looking over and seeing a flock of socks form on the corner of my desk.

I haven’t exactly been very definite lately.

Me? A sock knitter?

I seem to work best in bursts. After a stint of yarnlessness (it was really not pretty) I went through a bit of a knitting related dry spell.

Actually, if I hadn’t been for the knitting this week I would have probably gone off the deep end.

It’s been a rough week for me. Not to sound cynical, but I learned (for the umpteen-thousandth time) that people who have a track record of flaking off will not randomly metamorphose into reliable and trustworthy butterflies. It’s one of those lessons that I think I’ve fully integrated, then I relapse and start with the whole irrational belief that people are generally benevolent.

So, with this kind of frustration I figure it’s best to put yarn on my knitting needles before I succumb to the temptation to violently stab them into human flesh. Because that sort of thing is generally frowned upon in polite company.

Yet the best laid plans sometimes go by the wayside to satisfy the compulsion to knit a scarf. Scarves are good.

I could have worse problems you know.

Now she’s a big girl, and at the end of this summer she’ll be a whopping 5 years old.

Now it takes a dedicated evening to come up with almost a pair of plain jane socks with short row heels and toes; almost but not quite a pair. Pictured is where last night tapered off.

For her part Lexi takes these delays for finished socks in stride. She’s very analytical about it, pointing out that it takes much longer to make Josey socks because his feet are “very very huge.” (Which indeed, Josey does have gigantic feet for an eleven year old.)

We also managed to work a new camera into the budget. R.I.P. old camera, you served us well right up unto the middle.

Buying a new camera that was within the budget was a difficult task. First I had to get the husband into the store. This might have been easier had I not divulged the fact that it was to purchase a new piece of electronics. (Note to self: next time hint that they may have a sale on Star Wars items and start a rumor that they are giving away free cookies.)

Then I had to actually get him to compare cameras, we’d chosen another camera awhile back, made comparisons on function and agreed that it was indeed the best one. So I’ll admit that choosing another model (as in a model that we could afford right at that very moment) was probably a bit of a shock to his system. He kept saying “If we wait we can get this one for only $110 more.” and I kept saying “How long will that wait be?” and he kept shrugging, so I’d answer his shrug with “We need one to get us through that wait.” and then he’d repeat “If we wait we can get this one for only $110 more.”

Lather, rinse and repeat for the next 40 minutes.

Let us not forget that while I only want a camera to document every second of my adventures in motherhood and knitterly activities, the husband actually needs a camera in the course of his professional life (as in if he doesn’t have a camera he can’t send very important photos to his clients in order to be paid.)

Eventually this all lead to buying the camera that we could afford: Canon PowerShot A470. Which, as it turns out Matt is absolutely delighted with, and I’m not going to turn my nose up at the macro setting. As my friend Opal points out “It’s all about the macro.”

Law of mohair #143 All mohair articles larger than 2 cubic inches knitted on metal circular needles will reject said needles when the article is in a resting state prior to completion.

Law of mohair #143 appendix a) articles larger than 2 cubic inches that have successfully rejected knitting needles in a resting state will spontaneously begin to unravel.

Further scientific study on the unique and often frustrating physical nature of mohair is required. The laws of mohair although baffling seem to be finite and immutable.

Now I suppose because I really liked that yarn and I have to spin more.

I know what’s it is destined to be; Lexi said as soon as she saw it “Yarn slippers!” For a three year old she’s pretty good at seeing uses for materials.

There’s barely enough for a pair of womans slippers, but plenty for preschooler big girl slippers. Big girl slippers for the soon to be 4 year old sound like a pretty good idea.

While the girl child is just now learning how to knit on a loom, the boy child has taken to sewing.

On my sewing machine.

Which, at times, hurts my brain. I have this standing rule with myself that I will not, ever, under any circumstances fix, fuss, or fiddle with my children’s craft projects– ever. Not because I’m mean and don’t want to help, but because I have perfectionist tendencies that I think my children can live without.

So that means I get to stand back and watch, give advice when I’m asked, and provide proper safety oversight. Fortunately Josey saw me impale my thumb with the needle of the machine a few years back, and he’s scarred for life duly cautious.

I was using a sewing machine (hell, lets be honest, I was using power tools and a gas lawn mower too) unsupervised when I was eight, it was a different time though. Still I boggle. What were my parents thinking? Every time Josey sits down at the sewing machine, my day stops and I’m right there until he’s done. I’m caught between feeling like a paranoid overprotective parent and a responsible one.

And before anyone gives me any guff for teaching my male child to sew or knit let me say this: It has nothing to do with undermining the macho factor, it has everything to do with learning to be a self sufficient adult.