another monday

Admittedly, hearts are not really my thing, but I have an inkling that three year olds like them. So, to match her cookies, here is Sadie's tiny apron. The pinks and purples are more muted than she would generally pick, but I'm using fabrics I already have (honestly, I have a contract with myself - absolutely no more fabric enters this house for an insane amount of time. Ditto with patterns. Not ditto with wool...I need at least one indulgence.) It was ridiculously fun to make the ruffle and I hope the apron gets used to the point that cookie batter gets wedged between the folds.

So another Monday, another gift made. Not quite as inspiring or as relaxing a day as last Monday, but oh well. At least I got a belated thank you gift almost finished and spent some quality time humming along to Johnny Cash. Perhaps spending the previous night in Sadie's bed being kicked incessantly by little feet had something to do with my mood?

And man, do I ever wish we had some natural light in this house. Winter equals dark, muddy photos...and apologies from me.

baking and waltzes

To make up for not taking much vacation this year, I have the next 4 Mondays off (oh, and a whole week in the middle). This week was my first Monday and it was fabulous. I had already pledged to buy handmade and even purchased a few gifts from Etsy, but there were some stuffed cookies that wouldn't ship to Canada. So, after a good clean up of my small workspace, I put aside all the bird drawings and conceptual pieces to make room for some Christmas gift making. Inspired by these Etsy sellers, I made Sadie a half dozen cookies, complete with sprinkles and beads. It was the most wonderful way to spend the afternoon, quietly handstitching the cookie tops and reacquainting myself with my wool scraps. I also listened to an older Cowboy Junkies album, Rarities, B Sides and Slow, Sad Waltzes but it was anything but sad. I did shed a tear or two but the message of all the songs seemed to be that the things we say are important, and that love can be forgotten if you don't acknowledge it or spend time tending to it. One song was inspired by a story (forgive me, I'm forgetting all the details) of a man who, when he lost his wife late in life, filled their apartment with cardboard hearts and other obsessive amounts of kitschy items. He loved and missed her so much that he surrounded himself with these unique reminders. Anyway, it was the perfect album for a perfect afternoon. And a nice start to the holiday season.

But why cookies? Well, Sadie likes to bake banana bread with me, so I thought a baking theme might be fun. She's very good at stirring and she doesn't get bored anytime during the process. Now I've started a purple apron ("purple's my fravrite colour Mommy!") so she can dress the part too.

the december debate

The holiday season is never easy in our house, and already this year is no exception. But I deserve a newsflash: when you pair two artists from two different cultures and religions and then those two people create a darling little girl who happens to be the sum of all parts, well, how exactly is December supposed to work? I stress the artist part because this probably accounts for the main source of frustration - an inherent need to NOT do the things everyone else is doing. For Jay it's even easier; Christmas has never been in his book at all, so whenever December gets close it's my expectations that I have to come to terms with. And believe me, I come from a family who loves, loves, loves Christmas. Not the baby Jesus variety, because our house was religiously non-religious, but the variety where you put fake trees up at the very beginning of December and outdoor lights are a serious business. My Grandmother was the Queen of Christmas; one year her house was even photographed for a double page spread in the newspaper (she decorated with red velvet and white year round, but at Christmas the white trees and dozen miniature villages came out in full glory). So, I come by my inner desire to decorate and celebrate Christmas quite honestly, but I am prone to wanting to do things different and I also have trouble with consumerism. So what's a girl to do?

Well, a girl finds ways to balance this sensitive time, though with life at the current pace, sitting down and coming up with good strategies is challenging. But I have made one decision, and it feels like a good start. I've always made as many gifts as I can, but since I'm short on time, I've decided to Buy Handmade this season. The only exception will be books, because there is no equivalent and I'm just too strong a believer in the written word. The best part though? It's hardly a struggle - I mean, here I am spending glorious pockets of time looking through Etsy shops and it doesn't even count as procrastination! Happily I have already ordered from these fantastic folks at CircaCeramics in Chicago and also Cyberoptix TieLab.

If the thought interests you, here's where people are pledging. I love that people come together and organize such a thing. Peace and joy, right? Oh, and if anyone has some great strategies for keeping December peaceful I would be ever-so-thankful for the sharing. Especially Christmas tree alternatives...I've run out of room in the yard to plant live shrubs and my dead branches in a bucket of sand is just too tantalizing for Glen Miller.

something black

Funny, but I'm still a little shocked that I knit this sweater. I started, never got bored, and actually finished it. And the even bigger shock? I've worn it. Multiple times.

Yes, I've knit two sweaters before this, but both have problems that keep me from wearing them (though I have black dye now, so only laziness keeps me from fixing the problem with my Sahara). But really, a black cardigan with one button and raglan sleeves? There is just nothing more perfect in my book. I worked from Knit and Tonic's "Something Red" pattern and modified the body. Instead of ribbing from the bust down I borrowed the shaping from Sahara and made a band of ribbing just along the bottom. The shaping makes the sweater fit me just so, with a nice waistline close to the button height. I actually bound off shorter sleeves but realized long sleeves would be more practical, so without the slightest hesitation I went back and changed them. I even have wool left over and using Misti Pima Cotton was really economical. Three cheers all around.

(Final details: I used 4.25 bamboo circulars and DPNs which gives the Misti a nice dense texture and didn't throw the gauge off. Did I mention the three cheers part?)

a bevy of birds

For reasons mostly unkown, birds have been popping up everywhere in our house. I know that birds are nothing new, and frankly, I've been a bit leary of birds simply because they seem to be popular in art and design these days. But all of a sudden, I'm addicted.

At a low point this summer Jay had a profound interaction with a tiny and precious winged creature. Soon after, we purchased a massive drawing by Nicholas DiGenova because the subject matter was timely and even better, it spoke to us both. The image above is just a detail - the piece houses mulitple creatures with multiple heads, referencing some psuedo-science from centuries past. Next up is a souvenir from my New York trip; I never leave the city without a visit to the American Folk Art Museum. I enjoy the museum itself, but I also love the great gift shop. This brooch with miniature blackbird satisfied a jewelry fix I didn't even know I had. Then some resin bird buttons are the best detail of an otherwise classic brown cardigan I also picked up in New York. This leaves only one more bird mention...and by far, the most personal.

I've been trying hard to get back into my own artwork for a few weeks now, which is never an easy goal. Without truly knowing why, I began making bird stencils while looking for a way to use common stamping materials. I think, deep down, I imagine birds as messengers and the work I've been experimenting with is all about the hidden messages women have a urgent need to release. So this is where my addiction has led me, birds teetering on my own white pages, a product of my own hands. But if they harken me into my studio, I take all my reservations and silly comments back.

Wings are just where it's at. And I wholeheartedly join the bird revolution.

where did my baby go?

Last weekend Sadie turned three. Three!

Time flying aside, I am most shocked by how seamlessly our relationship has welcomed real conversation. The two of us take the subway home everyday, which is almost an hour trip, and we fill each moment with words. Words that come out right, words that are strung together into sentences, words that communicate exactly what my three-year-old is thinking. I recently finished The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion and in it she reveals that when her daughter Quintana was young her husband would write down the things Quintana said on little scraps of paper. He put each scrap into a box partly for nostalgia, but mainly for when he wrote future novels that had children in them. As adults, there is simply no way we can recapture what comes out of a three-year-old's mouth without actually documenting the source. Inspired by this I have only written down one fragment (and mostly for Jay's benefit - I wanted to have a Sadie moment to share with him on the phone while he was in LA). Sadie was talking to Glen Miller, our cat, through the glass of our front door and she said: "stay back, you have to be safe and you not have shoes". Since then Sadie has explained to me that the whole reason why our cats stay inside is because they are shoeless. Of course. And it took a three-year-old to say it so clearly.

(At this very moment Sadie is piling her birthday cards, one by one, on Glen Miller as he sleeps on a stool. They are the funniest pair - not too long ago she bent down to within 1cm of his face and asked, "Are you sad? Are you sad? Are you sad?" Who wouldn't be when you are trying to sleep and a toddler is forcing you to study the poetry of Hallmark?)

So, a baby Sadie is not. A charming, unpredictable, inquisitive three-year-old is my girl today. And I have to say, I'm pretty stoked by that.

the forever socks

Finally I can turn in my DPNs, the red socks are done. I started these when my Dad had hip surgery back in February and they just hung around building s-l-o-w-l-y over time. Also, I made the first toe all wrong and had to rip it out after finishing and weaving in the ends - oops. But the best part was trying to take photos of my feet while Sadie was around, and as you can see, she had to get in on the action. Her striped pants deserve to be photographed though, so she can trump my new socks anytime.

Speaking of socks, I don't know how Elizabeth does it! She's so fearless...I have a hard enough time with this basic pattern from Fleece Artist. But at least I can join this group now on Flickr - because I have to admit, seeing handmade socks with a pair of great shoes leaves me feeling all tingly inside.

Sock details: Fleece Artist 100% Merino Washable wool and 2.5mm Pony DPNs.

Oh, and the cable idea has been approved. But how do I catch up on all the Mad Men that I've missed?

searching for something

No cable yet, but still a persistent pull to change something, anything. I spent last night sitting at my sewing table unhappy with everything I was working on. This simple red bird (and purple buddy below) were all I could come up with, and they are both far too sweet for my tastes. Just as I was walking out the studio door I had one final thought, resulting in the roughly sewn on bit. I've been cutting out fragmented messages from this old book I found in Michigan - this one being "I will not go with you". See? Change would be great right about now.

Which leads me to the paint chips. We have an all-beige house which I completely agree with in theory. It's practical and means your "stuff" can stand out. But I am ready to abandon being practical. We get hardly any natural light in our house and winter is coming so I think a saturated, full-of-passion colour would be a healthy move. Sadie and I debated our options on the porch today, and I've narrowed it down to two: "boston brick" red and "cougar brown" well, brown (though it has an almost plum base). Jay gets home Tuesday and as long as he doesn't shudder at the thought, I hope he can weigh in. He's never been into red, but maybe this year things are different. Sadie can be very persuasive.

On a different note, thanks to Ragdoll's reminder, Sadie and I went to Word on the Street today. We loaded down her stroller with books (a bag of books for $5? Give me 2!) and felt very happy with ourselves. Books and paint, we must be readying our nest for the winter. Throw in a pair of almost-complete-socks and my beloved can of Coke, and I may make it through this need for change after all.

hollywood night

Right now, Jay is heading over to an opening reception for a show called "Just Britney" at a gallery in Hollywood. They managed to pull together work from 47 artists, including Fourteen and Chris Crocker (of YouTube fame). Of course, Jay could have gone down the trashy route for Ms. Spears, but his portrait is beautifully innocent and I think it's one of his best pieces. He just knows her face so well, and I've long since forgotten my husband's predilection for this particular blonde. Well, for the most part.

It would have been great to join him, but I just got home from a lovely break in New York with Ragdoll and couldn't stand being away from Sadie that long. Although I was in NY for a work conference, I was a total girl and shopped like mad (Ragdoll inspires me that way, though she did laugh when I bought a pair of red shoes similar to ones I already have. My response: I like variations on a theme.) But being away from home was good for my soul, truly. These are uncertain times at my workplace, the summer, frankly, was a bummer, and I have a real need for change right now. My mother, bless her, tried to help me move all our furniture around today just to make some change, but with a cumbersome TV, nothing worked. Stupid TV - and to add insult to injury, we don't even have cable.

So while Jay is doing his art thing I just need to sit down and knit, send him happy Hollywood thoughts, and consider this whole cable ridiculousness. Maybe signing up could count as change? At the very least I could finally watch Mad Men.

gramma love

Truth be told, I learned how to crochet way before I ever knit. The women in my family were more of the doily-making variety instead of knitters; perhaps they preferred keeping track of only one needle or they liked the humour of being called a "hooker". I imagine the latter is the case, as crochet reminds me most of my Gramma Vi, who passed away two weeks ago. Sure, this summer has been absolutely crappy for losing loved ones, but at least remembering my Gramma makes me laugh. She was a crazy, one-of-a-kind lady. You could not leave her house without sparkles attaching themselves mysteriously to your body and she was a crochet queen. So finishing a crochet project is not only timely, but also therapeutic.

It turns out that crocheting is also easier to do on the subway when I'm standing behind Sadie's stroller. We only go 4 stops, but I suffer from having to always do something with my hands, so I make use of the time. This scarf is a simple fan pattern I found somewhere online and I like that it feels lacy without the task of having to memorize a lace knitting pattern, plus it looks the same on both sides. I used Rowan cashcotton, which is lovely to work with, and a 4.5mm hook. It's about 9 degrees outside right now, so I'd say I finished the scarf just in time.

See Gramma? I'm a hooker now too.