Still Here, 2012 version

I miss this blog. I won't say that I am resolving to blog regularly. I would love to! But then I feel pressure to do it "right," when really, what does that even mean?? I know too many people who have very widely-read blogs or are influential "leaders" in their circles, so I am sometimes inundated with how one's blog is a powerful tool and ought to be managed properly. Well guess what? I'm a stay-at-home mom with no "platform" and I don't even know if anyone drops by here anymore! So phooey on anyone who thinks I'm not doing it right. I fell for that way of thinking a few years ago, but no more. Hmph.

Sorry, I got distracted by my own self-motivational speech there for a moment. Where was I?

Oh right. The blog. I do miss it! I miss sharing my current projects and funny things my children say. I need an outlet for talking about life with diabetes. It is unlikely that my words here will ever be widely-read or influential.

But I will be here. And I will be honest. Ok, honest with some filtering, because if I had said all the things I really wanted to say over the past couple of years...well, let's just stop there, shall we?

So hello again, dear blog. Let's get reacquainted.

Rainy Days

This latest project is quite reflective of our weather lately. Rain, rain, cloudy skies and more rain. I am overjoyed at the cooler temperatures, but a little sun here and there would be nice.

I decided to dig out a crochet hook and try my hand at a larger crochet project. Eva's Shawl seemed like the perfect pattern to start with since there are no fancy stitches and I had yarn on hand that I could use. The yarn I picked is a hand-dyed lightweight sock yarn that I purchased in my early days of knitting. It is beautiful, but a bit splitty and definitely on the thinner side of what I like to use for socks, so I was happy to be able to use it up on this little shawl. While I did have almost a full skein, it wasn't enough to make a full-sized shawl, so what you see here is more of a shawlette. I think I like it better as a scarf, though.

Hootie Hoot-Hoot-Hoooooot

We have an owl. Well, we don't own an owl. It's not ours, nor does it live with us. I guess it's more of a local owl. A neighborhood owl, if you will. And it seems quite fond of the tree outside our bedroom window. It isn't there every night, but when it is there I'll admit that I enjoy drifting off to sleep to it's repeated calls of "Hootie hoot-hoot-hoooot! Hootie hoot-hoot-hooooot!"

Speaking of owls, I finally got around to rehabbing the owl napkin holder that I picked up at Goodwill a few weeks ago. In the interest of frugality, I decided that I would use some of the few paints I already had on hand. I gave it a good prime with white paint, but it didn't cover very well. It was good enough for primer, but I could tell that if I really wanted solid coverage it could be a challenge. Thankfully, solid coverage wasn't what I was after.

BEFORE

I put on a coat of aqua paint, but that particular paint had a very matte finish and it didn't look right at all. Since I decided to let the white of the primer show through in the recessed areas, I decided to do a very light wash of white over the color. It was trial and error at its finest, but in the end I mixed a little bit of the white paint with a little water and lightly brushed it all over with a foam brush. It took the edge off the matte finish without lightening the aqua color, which was exactly what I wanted!

AFTER:

New Page

For those looking for the Jacobean Socks pattern, I have now added a new "Patterns" page to the blog. If you look to the upper left, you should see the link. Please let me know if you have any trouble with it.

Signature Story

It seems like everyone has a signature story - you know, the one they tell at parties or family gatherings. It's the story that usually has everyone leaning in, dying to know, "What happened next??" I had never thought about what my signature story might be until yesterday. While brushing my teeth, I pondered the nosebleed I had the day before. I don't have nosebleeds frequently, but it made me realize that I do, in fact, have a signature story. I cannot guarantee that it will be riveting, but if you're looking for a good comedy of errors, read on.

When I was in high school, my mom and I were invited to spend the day at Six Flags with family friends and their children. Our friends had enough room in their vehicle for us to ride with them, so they picked us up early in the morning so we could spend the whole day at Six Flags. It was late in the summer, so even in the morning it was hot and humid. We arrived when the park opened and general merriment commenced. Rides were ridden, snacks were consumed. 

A good time was being had by all until early afternoon. I was sitting on a park bench with our friend and her baby. My mom had taken one of the older children to ride a roller coaster and as they approached, I noticed three things: 1) Mom looked a little green around the gills, 2) I suddenly had a headache and 3) my nose was starting to bleed. Since we were not driving and planned to spend the entire day at Six Flags, neither my mom nor I had brought a purse. We simply brought our wallets, since that was all we thought we would need. Yet there I was, suddenly in need of a tissue. Lucky for me, our friend had young children and a baby, so she quickly handed me a tissue and we thought nothing more about it until I realized that the slow trickle coming from my nose was now a very steady stream.

When I realized that my nose was now gushing and that I had gone through all the available tissues, I started to feel a bit sick. At a loss for what to do, our friend shoved a clean diaper into my hands. By now a crowd of gawkers had gathered. There I sat, in all my bloody glory, diaper held unashamedly to my face. I heard a man ask our friend, "Does she do drugs?" He should have known better: jeans shorts, t-shirt tucked in and appropriately bloused over the waistband, large bow in the hair, brown saddle-oxford-style Keds (don't judge me, it was the late 80's) - none of these point to Obvious Teenage Drug User of that era. After several minutes, a clot that was easily 6 inches long came out and the nosebleed started to slow down. Someone in the crowd of gawkers had called security, so around this time a very nice man with a wheelchair appeared and whisked me off to the First Aid building.

I'm sure adults and children alike were wondering, "Why is that girl holding a diaper to her face?," as I was wheeled past them, but let's be honest. If you have to ride in a wheelchair to the First Aid building at Six Flags with a diaper clutched against your nose, your inhibitions go right out the window. By the time the nurse looked me over, my nose had stopped bleeding and the whole visit was anticlimactic. She advised me to lay low for the rest of the day and to come back if anything else happened.

Funny about that. I was enjoying the afternoon with my now diaperless nose. Mom suggested lemonade, so we found a nice quiet spot to sip our cold drinks. Mom sat down and immediately sprang back up again, which I found a little odd since I thought we were there to rest. Unfortunately for my mother, a bee had already claimed that spot on the bench and made no bones about stinging whatever part of Mom's anatomy that came closest as she sat down. Once again, we found ourselves visiting the nice folks at the First Aid building. By that point, we had spent quite enough time at Six Flags and were ready to go home.

By the time our friends dropped us off at home, it was quite late and their children were exhausted. We waved goodbye, thanked them for the ride and opened the door to go inside. Well, we tried. The door was locked. Do you remember me mentioning earlier how neither Mom nor I had brought our purses? Yes. No purses, no keys and these were the days before cell phones. At the time, my dad was still working and usually didn't get home until after midnight, so he wasn't there to let us in. We tried the front door (also locked) and the sliding glass door (yep, locked). There was nothing for us to do but sit on the deck in the dark, wait for Dad to get home and pray that this was NOT a night he had a chance to work overtime.

Dad did come home after his shift ended. My nasal passages were fine in the end and Mom's bee sting was a minor (yet painful) annoyance.

Don't do drugs, friends. And if you do, I suggest carrying an ample supply of tissues.

Halfway is for Sissies

As I mentioned in my previous post, my obsession with Pinterest continues to grow. The first project I decided to tackle was a crocheted rag rug. I'm no expert at crochet, but I know the basics and thankfully, that is all you need for this project. I had hoped that I could make a rug entirely out of scrap fabric that I already had on hand, but unfortunately my recent need to purge the house of junk no-longer-needed-treasures left me with little remaining in my fabric stash. There was enough to get a good start, though, and I supplemented the rest for a reasonable price by scouring the clearance fabric bin at Wal-Mart and buying 3 sheets at Goodwill.

If you are a long-time reader of my blog, you may have gathered that I tend toward the "Go big, or go home" theory with crafting. I don't mean to. I guess it's just my nature. When I was really into scrapbooking, I did it with gusto. When I started knitting, I tackled a Dale of Norway colorwork sweater as my first sweater project. So I guess it is no surprise that when I decided to crochet a rag rug, I would make one that is 4.5 feet wide.

I would have loved for it to be even bigger, but as it happened, I had EXACTLY enough fabric for this size. Since I had to buy fabric (cheap though it was) to complete it, I just wasn't willing to buy any more. This is not the color scheme I would have picked if I was actually planning a rug and buying fabric accordingly. However, I meant for it to be a rag rug made from scraps and I love the perfectly imperfect nature of it.

(Nearly) Instant Gratification

Yesterday I posted pictures of the lamp I got at Goodwill. Missing a shade but otherwise in perfect condition, except for a raging case of the blahs. Nothing a can of Valspar "Exotic Sea" couldn't cure.

Here's the before:



And here's the after:



I can honestly say it turned out EXACTLY how I wanted. Now if only I could spray paint the rest of my house.