Wait.....What?

Happy Thanksgiving, friends in Canadia!! And happy whatever-holiday-it-is-here-I-don't-care-I-just-didn't-have-to-go-to-work-today*, Americanians!

Today's blog is a "Huh??" edition.

"Huh?" #1:

Wait.....can they say that? Did we suddenly run out of plant names?

"Huh?" #2:


We have an Ikea?? Who threw up an Ikea at my mall? I'd heard about an Ikea rumour, but I gave up hope because they went back and forth on it what seemed like dozens of times. This is as close as I got to it...we'll spend four days bracing ourselves, cross-training and practicing the phrase, "Wait, do we REALLY need this?" and then we'll hit it up on Saturday.

"Huh?" #3:


Wait, I can sew? Wait.......what did I sew here? I was going for project bag and I kind of ended up with tiny pillowcase. Hand sewing even something this small was kind of a pain. But I'm happy with it, anyway. Oh, and I forgot to mention it - this is, of course, Amy Butler! I found several bolts, and also some fat quarters, at the local sewing shop near my LYS. I bought about four fat quarters (three in this pattern, one of my favourites) plus matching cotton solids for lining, and some zippers, and other fun things to try to see what I have the patience to throw together. This was my first attempt.


See, lookit - I lined it and everything! I was hoping that spending a loooong time working on something so simple would convince Travis I needed a sewing machine. It worked, and after last night's trip to Target, I am the proud owner of this. (You gotta link. This is hilarious.) I think I'll be returning it, though....I'll just bide my time with a needle and thread.

"Huh?" #4:


I finally caved and bought new glasses after ten years?? Seriously? And I'm WEARING them? (I always wore contacts.) But they're just so cute...


And why are they so thick?? Ohhh, right, I'm aging. *sob* At least they're blingy and sassy.

*(I know, it's Columbus Day.)

One Last Enable For The Day....

I decided to have a long-weekend sale at the shop. All the yarns in the shop are marked down 15% (which means that some yarns are priced even lower than what I paid for the rovings...) It's a good time to pick up a bit of handspun. (Or a lot of handspun. Whatever you want.)

Good night!!

PS: I Love You, Help Me?

Does anyone with mad sewing skillz and access to talent/Amy Butler fabrics/the pattern want to sew me a Weekender bag? I'm completely obsessing, I know, I know. See, I can buy all the Amy Butler fabric bags I want, but without a Weekender, I still feel kind of empty inside. I know the bag is kind of a pain, but I'm willing to pay you in hugs, snuggles, chocolate, sock yarn, handspun, and if need be, actual money. (Yes, I'm willing to part with cash I don't even have! That's how much I wants the bag!) If you think you might be willing, or if you know someone who might be willing, puhleeeease let me know.

okay love ya bye!

ETA: Riiiiiiight. See comment. I don't know how I manage to consistently forget that one of the most important people in my life has mad sewing skillz. Well, it's not so much that I forget it as never think of him when I think "Who do I know who can sew me a purse?" Kinda sexist of me, isn't it??

I'm Not That Girl

I blame Craftoholic. I've blamed her since this post of early May, 2006. Wait, let's pause for a moment to ponder that:

I am both incredibly lazy and terribly forgetful. Knowing exactly which blog to go to and where to look to find a blog post (reminder: I read well over a hundred blogs regularly) from SEVENTEEN MONTHS ago??! It has to be a complete fixation for me to retain that sort of information.

Okay, so back to Craftoholic and how evil she is. (Note: Craftoholic probably has zero idea who I am, and so if you link to her and she comes here wondering how all these people are coming to her blog from mine, she's probably going to be quite stunned to find me so resentful of her.) But really, it's not anything about HER especially, other than that I'm annoyed about her abilities.

Did you look at that post? Did you see that bag? That bag is EVIL. That bag has had me thinking for seventeen months that all I need is a sewing machine and a few yards of Amy Butler to be a complete genius. As a matter of fact, immediately after reading that post, I scrapped everything on my birthday wish list (my birthday's in May) and put "Sewing Machine" at the top. Sure. Why not? (I did not get a sewing machine - this turned out to be a very difficult time in our lives and what I got instead of a sewing machine was much more unpleasant, but probably less dangerous than it would inevitably have been to put me in a room with something with a motor, pedal, and sharp pointy object that moves at an alarming rate of speed. I have one quilt I made in middle school and the physical and emotional scars to go with it. Trust me.)

Back to that bag. I hate that bag. I hate that bag because I LOVE THAT BAG. It's sturdy and feminine and looks beautiful on abandoned train tracks with a skinny girl in a trenchcoat and knee boots. (I spend no time on abandoned train tracks, very little time in trenchcoats and/or knee boots, and absolutely zero time as a skinny girl.) I wanted to go to her house, wherever it is, and either steal the bag or throw piles of money or yarn at her until she let me take the bag (which option I chose would probably depend on how ethical I was feeling at the time, whether she was home, and most importantly, whether I felt energetic enough to go to all the trouble of stealing stuff - usually doing something the honest way is much less trouble, and I do love my laziness).

See, I am not particularly feminine in my personal style, and those padded quilted flowery bags that you see absolutely everywhere right now? Those bug me. (Too artsy-craftsy.) But I dream about bags like this one. It's different from the patchwork thing, I swear. (Oh, and yes, I ordered that. It's my destash present to me.) Amy Butler, and recently, Joel Dewberry, are the plague of my existence, sent to earth to remind me that I'm not a badass, and frilly pretty colours and huge floral prints in bold tones make me weak in the knees. (What?? Why?? Since when???)

Case in point, I do not care for the following things: Patchwork. Belts. Aprons. Pastels. Fabric purses.

I want the following things: Patchwork (and pastel!) coin purse. Fabric belt. Apron. (Don't buy that apron, I will find you and kill you or steal it or cry and make you sell it to me at a discount because now it's used and has little bits of the fried rice you made for dinner last night on it. I'm buying that apron as a present to me next time I sell something. Please buy something from my shop instead so I can buy me an apron. That's what you really want anyway. Not that ugly old apron. Yuck. Besides, you're obviously just going to get fried rice on it anyway.) And I believe we've already pretty much covered that fabric purse thing, seeing as how there's one currently on its way to me. Edited to add: Oh. And, um, I might have also bought this, um, patchwork wristlet. (Can I help it?? Did you notice that the little bit of striped material on that wristlet is EXACTLY THE SAME as the striped fabric used for the handles of the bag I bought? Hello!!)

So what the hell??? I hate you guys, Amy Butler and Joel Dewberry. I hate you guys.....so much.

Okay, must have picture. Picture has nothing to do with topic of post. This little blogger works ten and eleven hour days now and can't be bothered with continuity. Here's some navajo-plied self-striping handspun from a Sweet Sheep roving.

Happy weekend!! (Happy long weekend, if you have one of those!!)

Gah!

It's October!! How is it October? Who let this happen? I'm not ready for October yet! October is the Month Of Big Scary Change. Two wool festivals, lots of traveling, three workshops (gah! gah!!!), one job transition (from being part of a two-person team to flying solo), and all sorts of other scary big project things that HAVE TO GET DONE NOW.

September only had 16 posts (I'm a slacker!) and for October, you may be able to look forward to even fewer and less entertaining posts. I suddenly realized that I am maybe twenty percent LESS prepared for my workshops than I was three months ago. How did that happen?!? Time to get down to it. And all the side projects and hushy-hushy things are starting to creep up on me too! Gah!!!

Taking a breath: we got to open the windows on Sunday. Look how happy the puppies were about cool breezes and open-window-weather. (Which we usually get in, oh, January. So this was a treat.)

I love how Bitty's all, "What, Mom's taking a picture of us!? Here I am, get me in the picture too...gawd, Brodie, get out of the WAY, wouldja??"

Okay, man, I gotta go. This month is crazy! Gah!!