Because 2 days is never enough.

In scanning through the last couple entries here, it looks like maybe I have entered this dark, childless place, just making craft after craft for other people’s babies.

But rest assured, that’s not really the case. Instead, I’ve delighted in all these baby items for one big reason: They are SO much smaller than grown up stuff. Consequently, so much faster and cheaper to make than something for adults. And, as an added bonus, the sort of bloblike cuteness of a baby means you don’t have to go crazy worrying about making things fit. It’s just so much easier to lavish attention on little ones.

These little baby slippers are a case in point. Sort of. They were not exactly quicker, since it took me a long time to make up a pattern that actually worked. I spied an adorable pair of slippers in baby Sophie’s room. I went on a mission to figure out how to make them myself. The first pair would have been tight on a small doll, and then second one was a bit like Cinderella’s slipper when Felix agreed to be my foot model last weekend.  These haven’t been tested on an actual baby foot or anything, but man are they cute. I just want to eat them.  And, they were the perfect use for  scraps, including the remnants from a hemmed pair of Karl’s pants, part of a sweater Karl shrunk, and pieces left over from old sewing projects.

At the rate of babies turning up this year, it’s pretty lucky I’ve hatched upon a quick gift, since I can’t keep up with quilts!

Jess, Kate and I had a fun-filled adventure at the Renegade Craft Fair in Williamsburg not too long ago. We strolled the crafty aisles and ogled the goods after consuming brown rice crispy treats (with cranberries, almonds and flax) from the beloved Treats Truck.

There were definitely some recurring themes, the most prominent being mustaches. That’s right - mustache jewelry, mustaches on t-shirts and notecards, etc. And it also seems safe to say that squirrels are the new owls.

Needless to say, all three of us walked away with some great purchases. One of mine was a felt patch featuring a cute marsupial with it’s offspring. It seemed especially appropriate for me to use it as a way to customize my Ergo baby carrier (which will be my way of making myself into a marsupial).

Note from Jess:

Check out some photos here.

The photos feature the mustache meme and other common indie-crafter motifs like perched birds, ironic t-shirts, and fonty cards.
Speaking of birds on wires, Mindy and I were particularly taken with these and each bought a necklace.

(I temporarily lost my little pouch with the business cards I picked up, so I’ll try to figure out who makes all this stuff and post it when I get the chance)

I’m catching up.

Potholders are so April and May to me, but I just wanted to make it know that I did actually sort out the thumb issue. I cranked out a number of adorable and fully functional little mitts and distributed them to friends for wedding, thank you and housewarming gifts.

I have so many fabric scraps and extra quilt batting, that I really should go into turbo mitt-making, but I’ve moved on to bigger, if not better things.

This is a photo from a flight to San Francisco, where I used my time to sew down the bias binding on the mitt collection.

You know you’ve reached maximum craft-dorkdom when, upon getting stuck home on Friday night, you think to yourself, “cool, now I can make that potholder I’ve been thinking about!”

Yes, friends, this is how I spent my evening. And, yes, it was glorious.

I used some leftover quilt batting (from that quilt I still haven’t finished) and some fabric I had lying around from various other projects to craft a really fantastic potholder. If I do say so myself.

The only bad news is that in drawing my own pattern, I didn’t leave enough room for a seam allowance and, consequently, the thumb area is a bit constricting. It kind of cramps that opposable thumb style that humans rock so smoothly. Well, Karl and I have been practicing and I think we can still accomplish all our basic pot-holding needs required. And I’ll just correct the pattern next time around.

I have been enjoying the process of quilting so much more than I had expected. Before I started, when quilting was my fake hobby (along with rockclimbing) and I sat around imagining what I would do, I had envisioned quilting to be a lot of planning and fractions and perfectionism. I thought I would like it for the product. But there’s an element of discovery to it which has been really fun and unexpected. And last night, I finally discovered what my quilt is going to look like.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I have been thinking a lot about how I write, starting out with some general idea, maybe a character or a scene or a conversation and writing out from there, surprising myself as a plot, a developed character, and ending come into place.

And I realize, this is what I love about cooking, and drawing, and pottery, and even developing projects at work - the blind stumbling, the uncertainty, and then, just around a corner finding that you actually made something you love. Of course, the risk in this is that you can also make plenty of things you hate, and I have piles of embarrassing short stories, lumpy mugs, inedible meals, terrible sweaters, and general craft failures for each victory.

Anyway, it’s probably still too early to declare the quilt a victory. But last night, I pieced together the top and I really love it. It looks NOTHING like what I thought I would make when I signed up for the class. And it looks nothing like what I imagined I might do once I bought the fabric. And it looks nothing like what I was ready to put together when I finished the first big pieces last week (which was overwhelming and terrible and looked like it would belong to someone with a houseboat or a water bed). And that, “nice to meet you, stranger” feeling is, I guess, the fun and astonishing part.

Fabric and tools:

Strips ready to get sewn together:

Squares:

Rows:

Quilt top all assembled (bad lighting, late at night):

Next up is the ultra-laborious hand quilting part of the project.

I’ll probably report back in a year.

I’m taking a quilting class at Brooklyn General. And I love it. Heather, my teacher, is all about telling us the rules and reminding us to feel free to pitch them all out the window.

I keep telling Karl that my quilt is “organic.” This is not because of any natural designs and shapes, but because I don’t actually have any kind of plan of what it will be at the end. It’s much more fun this way and closer to the way I approach writing, and cooking, and pottery, and drawing and everything else creative. For a girl with to do list and after to do list, I’m realizing I’m not much for planning things out.

At the same time, I’m completely compulsive about this whole thing. Last weekend I pretty much just quilted all weekend. On Saturday night, Karl went out and I opted to stay in, which meant biking to a 24 hour laundromat to pre-wash my fabric and staying up until 2am sewing and cutting and ironing and seeing what that left me with. Add to that more of the same, plus buying more fabric, and then more. And that’s pretty much where I am right now. I have no idea what I’ll do with the large squares I’ve made, but I think I’ll cut them into smaller squares and go from there.

Of course, I stopped into Purl Patchwork after work this week, after I had bought the main fabrics and sewed my brains out all weekend. My heart broke. These were the colors I wanted. These were the textile designs I yearned for. I started second guessing everything. Bought more fabric, brought it home. Realized it didn’t look right. Wondered what I was thinking choosing so many bright colors. Wrung hands. Is this what one who “goes with the flow” experiences???

I’m a neurotic, doubting, OCD, free spirt.

Sometimes, I think to myself:

I wish there were a place I could go to make any kind of craft I want. I wish for a huge room with every possible craft material, rows of sewing machines, giant jars of buttons, huge tables, notions, paper, just everything. And I wish for a fridge full of beer there, and wine too. And maybe some music. Nice people would be good. And if I think it would be nice if I could walk to it. Wouldn’t that just be so cool if such a place existed?

IT DOES!!

Mindy and Erik and I spent Friday night at Spins and Needles at Etsy Labs. It was as if I conjured it by magic. This place is pre-school for adults. For five bucks, we got to make, drink, listen to a great DJ, and talk to nice people. I made a stuffed turtle (that I’ll use as a pincushion) and Mindy left with a stuffed monster. Erik provided design consultation and doodled.

The guy featured below was making a beautiful leather book. He specifically asks that you don’t copy his outfit.

Thanks to the event organizers (from Ottawa) Melanie Yugo and Jason Pelletier for a fun, productive night. We also dug this Etsy T.

The MTA meltdown had me trapped in Brooklyn for the day. A day off mid-week sounds like a great proposition, but since it was hovering around 14,000 degrees, I was actually looking forward to sucking up the office AC for the day. Mindy found me among all the commuters adrift in downtown Brooklyn and we sat down for an impromptu breakfast while we waited for the trains to get back to work. Only they didn’t, so I went home and sat in front of the fan in my underwear in a pool of my own sweat for a few hours and felt guilty about not being more productive.

That’s when my industriousness kicked in and I got to work on a new shirt. It was definitely much easier the second time around and I finished the shirt in about six hours (not counting an hour yoga class, a 45 minute conversation with Jody, whipping up some yogurt sauce, and drinking some wine with Karl… so I guess it took me a lot less time that that).

Now it’s midnight. Meet Shirt II.

I might even wear it to work tomorrow, presuming I can actually get there.

Dear Friends and Family,

At 2:13 AM last night after a prolonged labor, I proudly welcomed Shirt into the world. Shirt is a healthy 2 yard shirt and is full of joy. Mom and Shirt are recovering nicely in Brooklyn. Thank you for all your well wishes. No gifts please.

Photos to follow.

UPDATE:

Jess

I just got back from Arizona, where I spent a few days visiting my 91 year old grandmother, Maxine Broad.

I love to spend my time making things and learning new crafts, but this weekend, I realized that my grandma is the real deal. She raised 10 kids on a tight budget by doing everything herself. Grandma didn’t do crafts, she just lived her life. She learned how to sew as a small child, when her mother helped her sew a cooking apron. She spent the rest of her life sewing, looking at fashion magazines and replicating patterns out of newspaper, fitting 10 kids into nearly every piece of clothing they wore, and staying up all hours of the night at her sewing machine. She cooked volumes of food from simple ingredients. She read and played the piano and danced and laughed. And she never let anything go to waste; everything could be turned into something new.
I hope I grow old and have half the satisfaction and joy with the life I’ve lived, half the talent and resourcefulness, and half the love in my heart that she has. If so, I will have lived an amazing life.