|
|
||||
 by Susan, on September 18th, 2009 Never enough ... I have 31 binsful. A dining room sideboard stuffed with plarn (plastic bag yarn). Half a ping-pong table loaded with T-shirts ready to be cut into strips. And two shelves stacked with reels of VHS tape. This isn’t going to last me a lifetime. In fact, I’m totally out of green DK because I used all of it for an oversize shawl that blends about 10 shades and hues (in different amounts) into a progression of dark to light. I’ll show it to you next week, after the fringe is on. by Susan, on September 10th, 2009The volunteers at the Third Street Alliance in Easton, PA, probably think I’m the world’s worst momma. That’s better than the alternative, though. If they knew that both of my kids have four legs and fur they’d think me just plain crazy. There are days when The Boy would agree. I recently staggered into the house totally disheveled and covered in sweat, dragging an overstuffed yard-size garbage bag. On the stoop was another near-splitting garbage bag, plus a pair of smaller ones. My load was so big and heavy I’d barely made it across the street and through a parking lot to the house. It was the semi-annual Bag Day at the Third Street Alliance rummage sale. You can practically hear the crickets chirping in the gym throughout the event—until the final day. Then all hell breaks loose. Five bucks pays for whatever you can jam into a yard-size garbage bag and drag out of the building. A smaller bag is just a dollar. The crowd thinned after the first two hours. By then I had already claimed all the clothes I wanted to wear or upcycle into useful and fun crafts. Yet I hung around because I wanted to grab all of the remaining VHS tapes. I can jam 23 kid-themed VHS tapes into a smaller bag; I filled two this time. Did I mention that The Boy and I don’t have any people-children? My neighbor said I was. Until I pulled out a never-worn, never-washed, tags-still-on pair of white jeans in her size. by Susan, on September 3rd, 2009If I ever needed proof that I’m obsessed with crocheting unusual materials and that I’m a lousy housekeeper, I have it now: I can’t find my iron. This isn’t a run-of-the-mill iron. It’s a hundred-dollar Rowenta; the pro model with a heavy-duty shot of steam. I used to use it all the time to block my Aran-style knitting and crochet, especially the sweaters I knit annually for my husband, which are almost always loaded with cables and other dense textures. I blocked last year’s sweater with the wet towel method because the iron has been AWOL for about a year. That’s about the same length of time I’ve been playing with plarn (plastic bag yarn), tarn (T-shirt yarn), wire, and binding twine. Hmmmm. I’ve heard other stitchers say that their housework is often ignored. I guess that means I’m in good company. by Susan, on September 1st, 2009No, this post isn’t about peace, racial equality, and other laud-worthy goals. It’s more pedestrian—it’s about a real dream. Last night I dreamt that America had a new reality show, called The First Family. In this episode, Papa Obama was trying to bolt together the frame of a bunk bed. As the girls bounced around him, he struggled along. But the bed kept collapsing. And I kept yelling at the screen, “get your staff to do it!” It seems the pressure of self-imposed deadlines for my Grand Adventure—and fear about letting down my partners—was on my mind at bedtime yesterday. Usually I’m in the editor’s seat, badgering designers to complete projects and send me the written instructions. Maybe I need a staff… by Susan, on August 27th, 2009I used to groan every time The Boy dragged me along to the hardware store. Now I race to the car at the mere suggestion, secretly hoping he needs lumber. His theory is that lumber has to be carefully inspected. That takes time. Crocheting with alternative materials has changed the way that I look at the world: Cruising hardware store aisles is now exciting. I slowly scan every shelf and pick up anything that looks pliable or can be cut into strips. My last foray netted a huge spool of plastic-coated wire, the kind used for phone hookups. On sale! The coating is a dull ugly gray, but nothing a bunch of beads won’t spice up. Last night I tried stitching with it. I’m disappointed. The wire is stiffer than I thought it would be. The stitches are big and ugly. Just a couple of rows were enough to slow me down. I stared at the small stitched piece—something that usually fires me up— and got … nothing. I let my younger dog run away with it.
by Susan, on August 24th, 2009Five spools of fuchsia thread? Why do I have five?! I don’t have any fuschia fabric and I don’t have any plans to make anything in that color—it doesn’t suit me. by Susan, on August 21st, 2009One of the small pleasures in life is curling up in front of the TV with some yarn, a hook, and a sci fi show. That’s my Friday night. The house rule is that no one talks to me, asks me to get anything, or in anyway interrupts me once I settle in. Even the [...] by Susan, on August 18th, 2009Have you seen the public service billboards that feature a portrait of Lincoln and the words Failed and Tried Again? I’m trying to keep Abe’s example in mind as I yet again type in the revisions for an outdoor privacy curtain. This is Take Eight. (And I save older versions so I can revert to [...] by Aimee Ray, on August 8th, 2009Aimee Ray has been making things from paper, fabric and clay for as long as she can remember. She has a head full of ideas and is always working on something new—currently, a sequel to her first book of contemporary embroidery designs. You can see more of Aimee’s work at her website; she also sells [...] by Susan, on August 5th, 2009Why is a crocheted star motif so hard to design in the round? |
||||
|
Copyright © 2010 alternaCrafts - All Rights Reserved |
||||
Now I’m working with prettier, more pliable copper and (surprise!) strings of Christmas lights.
