Not so much a resolution as a plan...

I really love swaps. I like skulking around in people's Rav posts looking for hints of things they'd like. I like reading their lists - if they bother to fill one out - in the appropriate threads telling me what colors they like and whether they wear earrings or not and how they feel about Dark vs. Light vs. White chocolate and if that's better with or without caramel/nuts/sea salt/raspberry filling. I like stalking their projects to see what they've made and their queues to see what they hope to make in the future, and their stashes,which might tell me what kind of yarn they lurve. I like figuring out what I can get or make that will delight them, thrill them, make them happy. It's fun to make people happy. And it is also fun to feel like you've done a stellar job at something. I don't do such a bad job, but I never mail early. On time, but not early, and some of my pals are in Europe, as a result of which I have probably spent more on postage in 2015 than I have spent on yarn. But 2016 will be better. In 2016 I will find all the findings so I don't need to run out and get more jump rings (I can never find the right jump rings.) I will keep a running locker full of do-dads with lions, badgers, eagles, snakes, penguins, owls and monkeys on them. I will measure the heads of various small softies so I know what size Santa hats will fit them. I will have a little shoe-box full of generically wonderful yarny stuff like cute buttons, washcloths, wrist bands, stitch markers, measuring tapes, point protectors, and never leave the house without coupons for AC Moore, Michaels and Joanne fabric so that even if i don't need anything there, if I am nearby I can run in and get scissors or needles or Boye project bags at half price. I will have a spreadsheet of everyone I might ever swap with, telling me whether they use two circulars, magic loop or double points! I will enter their candy cravings! I will know who has pierced ears! Well, that's the plan, anyway...

It seems it has been a while...

But really, who cares what I was doing since the last post? Not most of my blood relations and probably not you, my readers. All two of you. If you're still there. So let's just move on... The very last day of the sad sad store closing sale, Lava picked me up two bags of Feza Dali in Green. Right now, I am not the least bit sure that 1400 yards of stuff I can probably get to knit up at four stitches to the inch would cover much of me, no matter how nice and Slythery it is. I should have told her four. But two it is, and I am now in possession of same, Lava, and the yarn, and myself being in the same place at the same time for the first time since... yeah, whatever. So does anyone have a brilliant pattern for a sweater in more or less worsted weight with silver blobs that takes, say, 1400 yards to cover a woman approximately the size of a Volkswagon Bug???

Because these are probably all wrong...

Because these are probably all wrong for the 18th century, but I have them, I am putting washed-out pictures of them here. In case, you know, someone who knows says "Oh, no, that's not too bad. You could use it, you know. If you promise to only wear it in the dark. And only to places we do not go. And not to speak to us or act like you know us while you wear it..." You know, encouraging stuff... I have something for a first pair of breeches for the other person, and he has a shirt already that I am not even terribly ashamed of, even if the buttonholes do look like filly-be-damned (I have no idea what that means - my grandma used to say it.) So I am wondering about a dark red cotton I have for a waistcoat... that, or poor fellow will be stuck with Osnaburg cotton. But that is for another post.




This has been fulled. I have enough of it for maybe a bedgown or something of that ilk. But I am not sure about the stripes.



One shot of the Ikea Duvet cover fabric. I know it is not exactly right, but is it close enough for... something?



Another shot of the Ikea fabric.



This was also cheap - five dollars for a several yards piece, maybe? - and wool, so I figured I would pick it up. Probably not right for anything, but if it looks like there is hope for some 18th century use, great. If not, I can always find some 21st century thing to do with it - not a big investment there to worry about. None of them were, in fact. This one is not yet fulled, if that makes a difference.

The things we do for love...

This is the view from the front. Note the slight resemblance to a shrunken chef's hat.



The view from the side, showing the wingie thingies about which I have some doubt, as well as the pleating of the cap which lookes to me like it can't be right. I am pretty certain it is not the only thing about this which can't be right. Is that enough poofage over the back of the head? Is it too much? Did the band go to the correct place on the side? Does the thing cover too much of the head, or not enough, or...

And why am I posting a little head schmatta on my knitting blog? Because, of course, if I get it right I will be slapping it on my 20th Century head and wearing it while fulfilling whatever obligations I have as a member of the 18th century Militia unit I have just joined. I do not think that these obligations include, should the place be threatened, beating off terrorists with the distaff from my shabby little repro colonial spinning wheel, but they might, and if they do, I will end up in the news, and if I end up in the news, of course, I want my cap to be right. A girl can't be too careful about these things.

Why on earth has she-who-cannot-finish-anything taken one one more thing? Really, it is not my fault.

OK, yes, I have always wanted 18th century clothing. I first wanted to do reenacting back in my early teens. However, I have managed to live MANY, MANY years without addressing either of these whims.

However, someone I love very much needs things to do. And this person would like to get dressed up in Colonial Clothing and Tell People Things. (Well, actually, this person might indeed be content to just sit there in old sweatpants and tell people things, but the days of the General Store and the Cracker Barrel being over, one must find ways to merchandise oneself, must one not?)

So this person and I will be doing these things together, and therefore you faithful blog followers of mine (Google says I have one, and, of course, Google would never lie...)will have to see pictures of said items, if for no other reason than that I am not good at this yet, and therefore need to post them so wiser heads than mine can come here and read and say things like "Abigail Adams is rolling in her grave like a log in a log-rolling contest at the idea that anyone she knew would have put that thing on her head." And then, you know, kindly offer advice. Or go off and drink heavily at the very thought of me in their community. Whichever, you know, makes more sense to them at the time.

Sew, Mama, Sew!

OK, never being the first to be first at anything trendy, it has taken me a few years both to get back to any sewing of note, and also to find the Sew, Mama, Sew site. They sell fabric over there, but they also have a fantastic blog and they provide lots of links and tutorials. I am especially fond of the Handmade Holidays and Fat Quarter months, But they frequently have themes and it it really good to go over there, search, and find interesting things to make, or to at least think about making.

They've asked the following questions of a number of people in the sewing scene, and we can answer one or more for the opportunity to win stuff. You can see links to the experts' answers on their blog over at SewMamaSew.com

Looking back on the sewing scene of 2010, what trends stand out in your mind?

None. Trust me, I am not the one to ask about trends.

What were some of your favorite things? (Trends, fabric collections, patterns, blogs? Whatever you really loved.)

I know I am supposed to have very specific favs here, but I basically look up individual things, because I just do not read a bunch of blogs every day. SewMamaSew.com is probably my favorite right now because there is so much I can access from it. In that sense, Ravelry has really spoiled me - I want a sort of one stop shopping site for ideas I can then pursue through links. Rav is amazing for knitting and crochet, and there is really nothing equivalent in sewing for a number of reasons, but I am piecing together a few places to go.

What was your very favorite fabric collection or print? (If not listed above.)

I don't really have one. I have a sort of love/hate affair with fashion, textiles, etc. I love real ingenuity, and I love beautiful things. On the other hand, I have never been in a position to afford much. Encouraging a passion for beautiful fabric would be fiscally imprudent.

I also despise with a burning, searing, itching passion to which words cannot do justice paying postage - particularly shipping and handling that is more than the item. You can't just go anywhere and see all this stuff, touch it, and then just pick a few fat quarters - there is a lot of taking chances and waiting and all that. I do not let myself lust after beautiful prints.

What I do like is making the most of a little bit of a limited fabric. This is nothing new, and I am probably way behind the times in liking things mixed with natural linen/linen look/cheap rough cotton fabric.

What was the best thing you made in 2010? (Be sure to share a photo!)

I didn't make anything amazing in 2010. That I ever finish anything at all is amazing enough, and I made something like 30 sewn gifts for Christmas, so even if they weren't fantastic, they were done and I was thrilled. Nothing I made is really worth a photo...

What is one of the best things you saw that was made by someone else?

I can't say I keep track of these things. Maybe it is because I am not a Quilter. I can see where, if you are, this is a really meaningful question. I do more making little things - tea wallets, coin purses, cowls, notebook covers - honestly, how overwhelmingly awesome is something like that going to be able to be? Nice is good enough. I remember the nice ideas, and I have made the most of the Tea Wallets. My favorite project was probably the Travel Organizer. You can find both by searching over at the blog at Sew, Mama, Sew.

What do you think 2011 has in store? (Again, trends, fabric, patterns, etc.)


I really don't know. I am not a driving force here, so it probably doesn't matter, either.

Anything you’re ready for the sewing world to get over?


Exploiting cute children and one's relationship with them. I realize the entire sewing universe is populated with adorable little girls who like to make things with mama and wear pretty clothes. I do not have a daughter, and I have no interest in telling the world what my children are doing, never mind putting up their pictures. I feel more protective of them than that, and frankly, if I edited our life together down to what most people would like to see on a blog it would be cruelly misleading. So I would like very much for everyone to get over how cute kids are, since they have been cute since the year dot, and show more interesting stuff for adults who need to live and get things done.

I am also totally totally ready to hear the last of "simplicity." Trust me, I would have to ratchet my life up a few notches to need the "Simple answers" I see to problems so different from those in my life as to be from Mars. I do not want to destash, simplify, edit, reflect - I would just like to live.

Finally, gag me with the "Green" already. Frugality, using what you need and no more, is as old as poverty. No one invented it recently and no one should act as if they did. I am equally opposed to greenwashing and the trend to make ugly things because they "respect the earth." How about we make a few nice things, reuse what we have, and understand that rushing out to buy green, or several new tops made from some cutting technique that leaves fewer scraps, is just another form of consumerism. Wear the ugly old t-shirt till you can't stand it, consign it to a car-wash rag, and then figure out what you want to replace it with. One nicely cut blouse is still going to have less impact than five new ones, no matter how you cut them, and if you make the blouse yourself you can use the scraps for something else. In truth, probably the greenest answer to clothing oneself at the moment, after wearing what you already own, is simply buying at a thrift store. The most green creativity would involve the least complicated reuse of what you can keep out of the waste stream locally.

I am not saying people have to go that way. I am saying I don't want to hear about Green Green Green and then Buy Buy Buy in the same entry.

What’s on your sewing agenda for 2011? What are you excited about? What would you like to learn more about?

I would like to make myself clothes that are actually useful in my lifestyle. That is a huge challenge. And would like to make them look nice, and use the stuff I have around. It is not a matter of upcycling. I am really going to be using old clothes as if they were yardage sometimes, and while I don't think I am going to be reinventing the wheel, I feel it will be challenging to me personally.

I am really excited about Spoonflower. I love surface pattern design - as I mentioned earlier, I can't afford much nice new yardage, but that does not mean I don't like looking at it. What I would like to do is make some of my own designs and get them from there. That would be a challenge and a lot of fun. Maybe if I start now I can have stuff for next Christmas.

I have read in this thread people both praising Japanese companies and calling for people not to be so cheap. Well, frankly, a good part of our printing capacity went to Japan years ago because people are cheap. (short explanation of a lot of stuff.) And I like a lot of the designs, but I do have mixed feelings. However, if you are willing to pay 13 dollars a yard for quality quilting cotton, 18 a yard from Spoonflower for something you design yourself or a bit more for something designed and printed here is a very viable deal, I think. I would buy from there first, if I had the money and a choice.

There it is folks - the blog post no one will care to read, but I did answer the questions...

Does anyone really use these, and what I made for Christmas.

Sometimes I am mystified by the things that are suggested we make for gifts.

Every single everywhere, for example, has a pattern - knitted, crocheted, sewed, whatever - for an eye pillow. I took a little survey. It turns out:

I don't know anyone who uses one.

I don't know anyone who has EVER used one.

None of them knew anyone who used one, either.

Now why do we need 75 gajillion patterns for something no one seems to need or use?


Even more places have patterns for tissue pack covers. Now I will say I have, in my lifetime, known one or two people who use these. However, compared to the number of people I know with noses, this is a very small number. I have never used them myself. I have no anticipation of ever using one myself. I own several. If I am ever stuck in a grab-bag situation with people I don't particularly care for, I suppose I am all set. Other than that, pointless.

I think I am going to keep a running list of things that I find patterns for which no one uses. But I am not going to mass-produce these things for gifting.


I have, I will admit, just done a pretty much handmade Christmas.

I started out with a plan for myself and the older son which was about as large as the Library of Congress, but scaled back continually over the 60 or so working hours that included all the sewing time I got. Travel organizers made way for tea wallets and little purses, hand painted pictures made way for patches sewn on tote bags. New ideas were born out of thin air. (I know how to free motion embroider? Apparently, I do, at least on a primitive level. I discovered this by accident. Go figure...)

What did I make?

Fleece cowls. Fleece cowls with embroidered patches on them. Last, desperate fleece cowl sewn, none too neatly, by hand.

Tea Wallets. Tea wallets in Osnaberg and a black linen blend, with a Zen aesthetic. Tea Wallets made from Orientalist print fat quarters. Tea wallets made with a sort of polka dot fabric in brilliantly bright colors against black. Tea wallets cut on the straight of the printed pattern, rather than the straight of the grain, since it was one or the other and the pattern was geometric. Tea wallets I can't even remember...

Little purses. Little purses with three pockets for folding money or various cards, and a velcro closing, that simple. And even so, I sewed one semi-inside out. Surprise, that worked too... Last little purse sewn by hand, including the velcro...

ONE travel organizer. I would have liked for it to have been three. Maybe more. But frankly, that one took a lot longer than I expected, and there just was not the time. Maybe if I start now, for next year...

Tote bags... The bags were premade, but had to be cut open along the side seams so I could sew on the postage stamp like machine embroidered panels, then sewn back together. I used my fake serging stitch and my overcasting foot. I broke a needle or two, forgetting to change needle position correctly, but these are the breaks...

A Hat. This hat matched a cowl I made. I made the tube longer and sewed up the top, straight across. Then I turned it inside out and met the two corners of the seam, and sewed them together. It is very warm. He does not like it. He doesn't like much, though, so...

All of these were nice things, I would have been happy to have gotten any of them. They were all useful. The tea wallets intrigued some of the recipients who decided they would put little notepaper and a golf pencil in there, or a cell phone, and may have mystified one, but I had one full I showed them, and I explained that It could also take instant coffee packets, the energy drinks in the long packs, etc. I decided to let the 21 year old find out for herself what else that comes in foil packets will fit in there...

No tissue holders. No eye pillows. Anything else you think it is likely my audience was happy I spared them???

A little story for our Reducio Mum...

Killjoys... I took a little writing class where I had to invent a magical animal with its own properties and write 500 words that included the animal. I "invented" Killjoys, although I have to say I was heavily influenced by a children's cartoon. These animals have the power to make people cheerful, but they have to choose to do it. Mum was mentioning making a nativity shepherd into Hagrid, and I thought this would amuse her...


Hagrid and a friend sit and mull over the miseries of life...

"Five o' them, ye say?" The large, bushy-haired man put his enormous tankard to his lips and sipped. "Five?" His voice echoed in the almost-empty tavern.

"Five," agreed the mournful pile of unkempt hair and tattered clothing that sat and drank with him, "an' if ye can believe it, Hagrid, I only paid for three. How I got the other two I couldn't say." He, too, took a drink absentmindedly. The beer spilled from the heavy cup, splashing his filthy clothes further, but he seemed ot find it funny. "There ye go, mate. I just put on these robes this mornin' for the firs'time, and they're broken in already." His laugh was rusty, but a laugh, all the same.

"Do they play cards like that fer folks? Ye ough' ter make a few knuts lettin' folks watch." Hagrid observed the small, sheeplike animals sitting cross-legged on the floor near the fire. "They'r real convincin' like."

The largest of the small animals looked up at Hagrid and growled. The ferocity of the sound, combined with the adorable mop of curls on top of it's placid, sheep-like head got a smile out of the large man.

"No," Dung continued mournfully, "They won't perform in public.. Although Eunice in the corner there'll knit."

"Really? Well, thats sumpin' like. Don' see too many sheep as can knit."

"No, ye don't, do ye. There's no market for knittin' sheep in these times, Hagrid. I've wasted my money." Mundungus seemed resigned. "Free to a good home. Ye've got the room."

"But they're a bit dull, ain't they. No breathin' fire or bitin' or spinning rope?" he asked with a faint hope in his voice.

"Not a bit of it. Still, sort of amusin', watchin 'em when they think ye ain't lookin. Billy was playin' drums on the oatmeal box this mornin'"

Hagrid burst out then with a deep belly-laugh. "OATmeal, Dung? I'd a never picked ye fer oatmeal in the mornin'."

”Oatmeal goes very nice with a bit o' fire whiskey in the mornin'. An ye know, I don' think they're sheep. I think they might be KillJoys."

"Ye don' say. But they're supposed to be extinct!" This was more interesting to Hagrid.

"I have it on good authority," Mundungus responded, in a low voice, "That there's odder thin's in New Jersey than that."

"Maybe. Maybe, Dung. I can' take em, though, anyways. Too much to be doing right now, what with..."


"Well, mebbe Fred and George, then. they're use' to bad knitting anyway..." He stood up and whistled. "On yer feet, lads." Obediently, they stood on their hind legs. "March."

The little wooly animals sashayed out the door of the Leaky Cauldron. "Then again, Hagrid, mebbe I'll keep 'em meself. There's sumthin' about them I je' can' put my finger on, but their cheerful, like."

"Well, if ye like that, then. Good day, Mundungus." Hagrid, sat down again at the table, remembering to be bereft, while happiness on the hoof marched itself out the door.

Small enough for a House Elf.

So recently I got myself a very Reducio'd machien on ebay. Actually, I got two machines - the listing said one should be able to make one functioning machine out of the two and have lots of spare parts left over. Well, I had a feeling the first one was actually running, and I was right. Here is the photo. Note that the cup is a regular size cup, not a supersize one, and that the little bag was actually sewn with the machine.




Now in case that did not convince you that the machine is small, here is another shot, this one with a coin for reference.






Note that he is a bit dirty, and lacking a proper spindle for the thread to hang out on, and that he is there all by his lonesome, without the foot control that is almost as large as he is, or the little briefcase they come in, or any of the bunch of accessories they used to throw in with a machine.

{Now a days you are lucky if they throw in a presser foot and a few needles, but back in the day they came with hemming feet, quilting line guides, tuckers, rufflers, and various implements of construction that can baffle even the brightest of modern minds. This machine came with a decent, middle of the road set - we just did not put it in the pictures (which are, as usual, thanks to Lava. Thanks, Lava!)}

He weighs in at less than four pounds all by himself - with the case, accessories and foot thinger he has been clocked in by others at about 9.5 and I am willing to take their word for it. But he is a real sewing machine, not a toy, with very convincing innards and very credible moving parts. I sewed the little bag and in the future I will show more.

Does he have a downside, other than being smaller than some beetles? Well, there is a marked smell of ozone with the motor running, the easiest way to pull up the thread is actually to just stick the bobbin thread through the needle plate before replacing it on the machine and the bobbins hold a very very small amount of thread. However, I can live with all that. His biggest limitation is that he only straight stitches. Then again, the Featherweight only straight stitches, and goes for easily ten times what I paid for the two of these together, and more frequently for 20 times as much. I'd still like a little Kenmore, but for now this one is small, and light, and fun, and I can use it on the desk, which was the idea, after all...

I will have to make a Reducio project for next round on this one.

Lucius Malfoy's sewing machine

Ok, I know that Lucius Malfoy didn't do his own sewing. He was way too aristocratic. He had house elves for that sort of thing. House elves, and quite possibly sweatshops full of Muggles purchased on the black market who sew T-shirts and fetish gear to keep The vault at Gringotts full and the powers that be quivering in anticipation of their payoffs.

But what if Lucius Malfoy's secret, dirty, passion is....

Quilting.

What if there is a secret room at Malfoy Manor full of fat quarters? What if there is a torture device down there which is actually a disguised quilting frame? What if Lucius Malfoy's boggart is Voldemort finding him with a needle in one hand?

So maybe, maybe this is Lucius's machine.

How to use the row counter....

This would be SOOOO much better with piccies, but as I pointed out, I am notoriously bad with getting pictures up, especially since the camera with the easy software had a bad accident...

Anyway, so here is what you got, and how it works.

There is a long chain. It has a bird at one end, (your namesake), a lobster claw at the other end (No relation that I know of) and in between a little flock of small flying things.

If you lay it out on the table, you will see that there are plain rings between the birds. They are not huge, because this was made for sock knitting.

What you do is put your needle, on your first pattern round, through the first circle (jump ring), the one closest to the bigger bird, and then knit around till you come to it again. When you do, take the needle on the right, insert it in the next jump ring down, the one after that next bird, and drop the first jump ring of the left needle.

You have now counted one row.

There are at least 12 jump rings there, and depending how you count possibly 13 or 14. You don't have to count a dozen every time. Let us say you have a 6 row pattern. Take that lobster claw and bring it up to attach in the SEVENTH jump ring. Now use the row counter, and when you get to the jump ring with the lobster claw attached, you know you go back to round one. Just stick the right needle back in that very first jump ring.

Now if you have to do something spiffy, like cross cables, on one of the rows, you can attach a crochet stitch marker/earingtype stitch marker in the appropriate jump ring, so when you get to it you can say "Oh! Time to cable!"

And if none of this makes any sense you can just use it as a bracelet or attach it to your waistcoat with the lobster claw and stick the bird in your watch pocket...

As I said, I made it for socks, so the jump rings are small. If that is a problem you can get bigger jump rings, or mail it back and I will replace them with larger.

And if this still makes no sense, let me know and I will get Kim to take pictures...

Reducio 9

I am notoriously bad at posting pictures, but Lavander Ackerly took this with her cell phone and sent it to me so everyone could see how lovely my Reducio 9 package was. (All the things are still lovely, but they are no longer in the package...)

When you can see the lights of the oncoming train at the end of the tunnel...

In certain categories, and perhaps only in those categories, I have been around the block enough times to recognize the lights of the oncoming train at the end of the tunnel.

I think the sewing project I am about to commence is made up of those lights.

It starts out by advertising on the package that instructions are enclosed.

I bought it

I read the instructions.

Let us just say...that I am rather glad indeed that I know enough to know that when it not exactly crashes and burns, but, rather, does not meet expectations, it will not be my fault, but the fault of a faulty plan based on simplicity at the expense of do-ability.

The parts of the instructions that should be there, but aren't, I can figure out for myself, or at least make a decision on myself. When there are four ways to do something and the way most likely to end you up with a bunchy, squunchy seam is the one provided, well, you can decide to go with that least common denominator, or you can substitute, here and there, for the inferior technique. And when you actually know there are four ways to do it you don't have to blame yourself if, doing it their way, you get the mess that could logically have been expected.

I would feel that new sewers should be warned, except that in my experience newbies don't actually notice how horribly things turn out, so long as they stay stuck together.

Warning - garments printed on a piece of cloth to be cut out and sewn are unlikely to be of couture quality...

Figgy Christmas

Author’s note: This occurs during the Christmas during Half-Blood Prince, six months before Dumbledore dies, and seven months before the events in my story Dust.

“Well, Mr. Tibbles, I’m back and not a bit too soon. That Muggle bus was wheezing and belching and will be lucky to make it another block or two, I say. For all I know, it hasn’t. It stops down by the market; I’ve walked the rest of the way. Well, the devil may be in the details, but I’ve settled his hash tonight, and no mistake – three delivered in time for the holiday, and the house that much quieter.” The old coat, hung in the cupboard, sagged on its hanger: the wet carpet slippers, changed to the ones only worn in the house, sulked on the mat. Mr. Tibbles circled them cautiously, sniffing out the story. It matched what the old woman said.

“Here’s a nice can of tuna for you. The human kind, no less, for a bit of a holiday treat. I’ll have a toddy and turn in early then.” It was silly to miss them, the kneazels, they were never meant for keeping, and she had not been particularly fond of them, anyway. Well, the little one, with the half pink nose, perhaps….but she and Mr. Tibbles and Wigglesworth and Tamsin and the few others about now would be fine, and it was a few fewer mouths to feed.

Slapping down the uncarpeted hallway to the kitchen she paused at the glass door. Silly thing – you can’t see anything through it, and yet, you feel exposed peering from behind it when you’re trying to see if the mail has fallen through the slot onto the mat. Silly Muggle house entirely. I wouldn’t have chosen it. Well, you don’t chose your life, it chooses you , she thought, the words running down a groove in her mind worn deep by repetition. It chooses you.

She didn’t bother putting on the light in the kitchen, just navigated by habit over to the counter next to the sink and filled the electric kettle. I don’t like water hanging about in these. It should be fresh every time. Not too much then. A waste to pay the rates to heat water I won’t be using.

These were the careful economies of a woman with no family, no safety net. Oh, she knew people. The cards from Muriel and Bernice and Esme sat next to each other on the mantel in the adjoining lounge. They didn’t know her from Gryffindor’s cat, really, but they might notice if she took to her bed and died there and never came back to the beauty parlor when Petunia was having her weekly do, or the church, where she chatted with Esme and kept an eye on the three people in a forward pew sitting properly and paying absolutely no attention to the service, or the market where she got her cans of cat food and picked up news of the children by surreptitiously eavesdropping on them as they picked out sweets, Mark Evans complaining to James Jeffries and Chelsea Daniels about that cousin of Harry’s while she pretended to care intimately about the ingredients in the dry soup mixes.

The kettle came to boil and she shut it instantly, pouring the water into the cup she had taken from the nearly empty cupboard over the teabag of moderately priced tea which had no scent and no particular flavor but did come in a box with lovely little prizes - something to look forward to. She’d had one that morning – another sheep. It was about an inch and a quarter long, and you could only tell it was a sheep by comparing it carefully to the pictures on the box, and yet she should have left it for tomorrow morning. It would have been a bit of a celebration.

I ought to have bought myself something. That’s what they say in the Muggle magazines, isn’t it – to be good to yourself. I ought to have gotten myself – a new scarf. A silk one. Pink, I think, with embroidery. Perhaps, peachy pink, with peonies.

She bent over and reached under the sink for the whiskey. When had Dumbledore brought it by - that first New Years with Harry at Hogwarts? It never got empty. She knew because that fleabag of an excuse for a sack of sodden laundry had drunken from it more than once, and it was always just as full when she went to have a dram of it herself. Well, the thought of him dressed as a witch was worth a small smile, at least.

The bell rang, and she hit her head standing up while still halfway under the sink. Bottle in one had, she crept to the glass door, and looked through it. Probably a neighbor, she half prayed, probably a neighbor and not a Death Eater come to finish me off as a Christmas present for the That One. Everyone else could call him “He who ..,” but she didn’t dignify the old monster. He was just “That one” here, even if she was fairly certain she needed to change herself at the thought that they might be outside her door.


Mr Tibbles was curling around her ankles. That was odd. It couldn’t be Death Eaters, then.

Still, she kept the bottle in her right hand as she moved cautiously toward the door. Much good it would do her if Tibbles was wrong. She’d go down swinging, though. “Whoever you are,” she called out with false courage a few feet from the door, “go away and don’t come back. I’m not buying anything at this hour.”

But Tibbles was sniffing at the mail slot, and mewing oddly that he knew this one. She cautiously touched the knob, turned it, and pulled the door in towards herself with a sense of dread, unsure of what she would find, even if Mr. Tibbles was satisfied.

Mundungus Fletcher was leaning brazenly against her doorframe, several sheets to the wind. He opened his mouth to speak, and she revised that. He was under full sail.

“Allo, Figgy. ‘appy Chrishmush. ‘Appy Chrishmush. Ah jes’ come by ter wish yer an ‘Appy one.” He leered at her, beyond normal expression, and, overbalenced by leaning in her direction began falling toward her, his long tatty locks and the many scarves and bits of overcoat he seemed to have about him waving in the wind on his way down.

She put her shoulder into it and caught him as he headed for her foyer tiles. “Tanks, Figg. No’qui’myshelf, preciselike”

“How you can get a word out of that mouth of yours…well, come in, come in, no need to display you to the neighbors. They’ve got another six months of needing to think I’m balmy but harmless, and you don’t enhance my standing in the community, not in this state.”

She glared at him, or, rather, she glared, but her eye was being ground into his chest as she wrestled with his nearly dead weight and chivvied him into her lounge through the hallway door, rather than the kitchen, because it was closer and he weighed more than she would have thought. She was doing her best not to inhale, which did not simplify matters.

“There!” Breathless, she had dumped him on the sofa, and he had managed not to roll off of it. “What in Merlin’s name brings you here? Dumbledore can’t be wanting me, can he, you moronic excuse for a regurgitating toilet?”

“Can’ a lad show up jes ter be frenly, like, Figg?” he mumbled. At least, she thought that was what he mumbled. He was face down. Well, she thought he was face down. Between all that matted hair, and all that shabby greatcoat, it was hard to tell which end of him was up, really.

“s Chrishmush. Want comperney, like.”

Her face was sour. “You want company, or you’re daft enough to think I did? Because if I were looking for company, it wouldn’t be a drunken sneak thief I’d pick, first off.”

She got no response. Sighing, she assessed him from a distance. “Well, he’s slept on this couch before,” she said to Mr. Tibbles, who was observing her from the hearth rug. “The only way he’s ever on time is if he shows up early and sleeps it off where he was supposed to end up, and he did that a few times this last summer, before Dumbledore took Harry away to the Weasleys.” Mr. Tibbles, who knew this already, having witnessed it himself, made no comment.

The question was, how likely was he to be sick, and how should she arrange him so that he was least likely to choke to death on his own sick, like some sort of has-been Rock musician, the kind she used to read about in the tabloids years ago, when she worked in that Muggle insurance office and had to take trains to get there..

“On his side, I think, Mr. Tibbles. That ought to keep him from choking – or drowning in it once it’s up. Still, you’d better keep an eye for me. Come get me if has trouble in the night.”

She took her cup of tea upstairs, and lay down to sleep. She’d been too rattled to fix herself a hot water bottle, and yet, she was not quite as cold as usual. It is a sad, sad situation when having the likes of Mundungus Fletcher sleeping on my couch IMPROVES my night, she muttered to herself as she fell asleep.

She made her way down to breakfast the next morning, warm and clean from her shower and dressed in her pale yellow sweater set. The color washed her out, but it was much the nicest thing she owned for this time of year, and it was Christmas. She’d repeated that over and over to herself as she put it on, and her best skirt with it, and the newer pair of slippers that she usually only wore up in her bedroom, because when she was feeling very cold she would wear them straight into bed, and if she wore them downstairs they tended to pick up tracked in dirt which she did not want on her sheets.

A faintly foul odor met her as she opened the kitchen door, where Dung was more or less vertical, and fussing over her tea kettle. “Mornin’ Figgy. ‘Appy Chirstmas.” He looked up, his mournful, bloodshot eyes almost focusing, and made a grimace he might have thought was a smile. “Got yer tea reddy, jes’ like you like.”

“Pummeling Pixies, man, is that TEA? It smells like you’ve been washing your clothes in the water and then pouring it in the cups!” She looked at the proffered cup with horror where it sat on the counter – he was too smart, this morning, to try to actually carry it anywhere, it seemed.

“Lapsang Souchong. Very fancy. Jes’ the thing for a celebration breakfast.” He looked at her, bloodshot eyes peering up from under his wild and unkempt brows, perhaps a bit uncertain.

I could tell him he’s been celebrating enough already, but he already knows it. It’s Christmas, after all, even if the old sod knows I can’t refuse him on Christmas, and knows I know it. she thought, wondering vaguely how half a pound of sliced ham, a can of soup and twenty three tins of cat food could yield a Christmas dinner she could put on the table.

“I got a goose. Transfigured it myself. It’s pretty fresh, I think. Well, they didn’t teach us how to do spoiled ones,” he said, answering her unasked question. Of course, he must have been into her refrigerator, seen how - neat - it really was.

“All right, then,” she said, after a moment spent staring at a spot just over his shoulder and beyond him, on the cabinet. “All right then, but mind you stay in the lounge while I cook it, and be off with you when we’ve eaten.”

*****
With the front door safely shut behind him after dinner she turned to shut the lounge door – how had that gotten open? - and stuck her head in to reassure herself that he hadn’t made off with the furniture. The tree sat in its corner, the electric lights blinking oddly up to the point in the string where they stopped working altogether. The afghan she’d drawn over him the night before was folded tidily on one end of the sofa. All looked remarkably commonplace until she turned at the mantel, and saw…

She advanced on it. A once-white sock that had seen better days and a few barely adequate scourgifying spells was hung from a nail in the mantel, with a paper bag hanging partway out of it. On the bag was scrawled “Figgy.” She reached out with a trembling hand to take it. If he’d given her some stolen…

But no, what slid out first, when she put her hand in the bag, was a very ordinary receipt from Marks and Spencer, and with it a small box. She opened it, and a little enameled Christmas tree pin looked up at her. It was the sort of thing an eight year old boy might buy for his mother.

Turning over the receipt, she saw he had written on it. “Honestly bought” it said.

As if anything he has isn’t ill gotten, she thought. But after all, he’d made an effort. Pinning the little brooch to her sweater, she did not know quite what to do for the moment. She sighed, then, and went to clean the kitchen, Mr. Tibbles following her wordlessly, and getting a second can of tuna in two days, for reasons he did not entirely understand.

Still, when she slept in her clothes that night, she was wearing the little Christmas tree, and the receipt was in her desk, an old grocery list of her mother’s, found in an old purse long after that death, on one side of it, and the letter explaining why she was not being accepted to Hogwarts on the other.

Pretty girl!

Here is the very fuzzy picture that I got off of Craig's list of my new sewing machine.

In teh top picture you have the machine itself, in the bottom picture, it's the one on the right, which shows that it is a little smaller than the one on the left. I can't really take it out of that wooden thing, which makes it not really smaller by much...I have not mentioned this to DH, who does not like old stuff and who has been being really really nice about this..

Anyone who knows what company manufactured this, please come forth!

Finally begun

So, I have cast on and am halfway through the garter stitch section of the February Baby sweater. I cast on in the kettle dyed gold Knitpicks and I had to transfer the cast on to the other needle to start with a knit row on the right side. I am about halfway through that part, I guess. It seems a tiny bit rough but I felt the swatch I washes, which is softer - I think it will be ok.

I am using Elann Sock it to me in whatever they call their burgundy color.

EZ would be so proud...

I have been wanting to make the EZ February baby sweater at least since Ellen of my spinning group made one for my now-4year old, maybe before.

"One ball of wool, quick project, they're great," says Ellen. I am willing to believe her. However, I can't seem to decide which particular yarn to use for this baby, who is the product of a Gryffindor father and a Ravenclaw mother who writes. I keep rehearsing yarns in my mind and in reality, but as of yet, not feeling the love.

So I check out teh Rav.

3199 projects of this sweater. They don't all look alike. Some are made from acrylic worsted, some are made from baby wool, a lot are Dream in Color Smooshy, a yarn I have to buy and knit socks from eventually if only because I have a friend who will SWOON at the thought of having SMOOSHY socks. (She's not a knitter, but she knows a good word when she sees one.) Anyway - in less than 20 of the 128 pages of pictures they have of these things, I found another one made in Paton's KRoy and asked said maker if it was soft enough. Tactless? Maybe. But this is what you get when you put up a project and picture but leave no useable notes.

The son-child is thinking that some nice Gryffindor indie-dyed sock yarn that I have would be a good idea. I have Caron Naturally Country in Grey and in Periwinkle blue. The baby lives down south, so very airy, or else made of not all wool, are probably good ideas...

What do y'all think???

Why am I so delusional?

Why am I so delusional that I can't even figure out what the reigning delusion is?

For example, let us take the socks I am currently slogging my way through...

I like the pattern. Even though I wrote the pattern, I like it and the way it is coming out.

I like the yarn. It is not perfect yarn, but it is not PITA yarn, either, and it is really a good color for these socks.

I like the person I am knitting them for. We have been in several swaps, and while I have never had her for a spoiler or spoilee, we have been in the same house and she is a very nice person.

Clearly, then, the major reasons things take longer than you could possibly believe are not in force here. I am not reluctant to finish this pair of socks because I don't like them, or the yarn, or the person, or even the person who wrote the pattern.

So I must be suffering under some delusion. The socks must be coming out about as fast as I should have thought they would. I must simply be delusional about something, and here are my possibilities...

1. Did I suddenly think I would be getting enough sleep?
When the nurse told me she would be gone for a week and a half, did I think this would not affect my sleep?

2. When I realized I would be trying to finish these socks at an athletic event with 1500 athletes, one of which was my son, while living in a dorm and eating under a tent, did I think that somehow this would make it easier to knit? With very small needles? On darkish yarn?

3. Did I think I could knit at night? I know I thought this. I know I thought I could knit when I was tired and could barely see. Why did I think that my pretty pathetic eyes would work better than they do? Just because the girl who knitted me socks last swap is legally blind and got hers done on time?

4. I know I thought I would be able to knit in the car. I was able to knit in the car. I was able to make a mistake that took me an hour fix is what I was able to do. Why did I think knitting in the car was a good idea?

5.Why did I not foresee that the little online school I am currently headmistress of would have a drama attack as I reached the painful point of realizing I was already over one week late, and make me even later? (Why are there nearly adult humans who can refer to the character of Severus Snape as "Sevvy-Poo" and expect other people to treat them as if they are sane?)

6. And lastly, Why did I not realize that the only way for me to ever be on time is to be early? Since even then I can't manage it half the time? Why?

No idea which is the controlling delusion, but I think that I should probably remember this all in case there is ever a next time...

Ok - I thought worsted was bigger than sport...

I don't expect a lot out of the world, really. It should keep turning on is axis, and certain established and totally inconsequential items should keep on making sense. You know, the things that I already understand, and which are so unimportant as to really pose neither threat nor opportunity to the world at large - those are the things that I prefer remain the way I have always known them. I figure it would be nice if something did, and this seems to me as if it would not be skin off anyone's nose...

The world violates this continually - as far as I can tell, it is still turning, but the fact that I needed to dial one plus my area code to call across the street was predictive of bad times for established and inconsequential items. I don't really care that you needn't be president or famous or even dead to get your face on a stamp now, but the messing around with yarn terminology is bothering the hell out of me.

I've noticed that Knit Picks does this a lot, and I am wondering if anyone can explain this to me in a way I can understand...

As far as I ever knew, you had, roughly

Fingering - very small, for socks.

Sport - about 6 stitches to the inch.

DK - 5.5 stitches to the inch

Worsted - 5 stitches to the inch and

Aran 4.5 stitches to the inch.

After Aran, the names start sounding like they describe MacDonald's meal sizes and I don't bother with them, but up to Aran, they seem useful.

What I do not understand it sportweight that knits up to 20 stitches to the inch and DK which knits up smaller than said sportweight.

In this case, the perp is Knit Picks and I will give you solid examples in the hope that someone can straighten it, or me, out.

I downloaded two free patterns from Knitpicks for pretty one skein projects.

One Pattern, the Cathedral Purse, calls for Knit Picks Shine Sport.
Shine Sport is 110 yards to the 50 grams.
An awful lot of DK weight yarn is 116 yards to the 50 grams. I know, because I bought a lot of it at one time... Different brands, different yarns, but all cotton, and all about the same length to weight. Ok, maybe Modal is heavy. Very heavy.

So then I look at the gauage, and it calls for 20 stitches to four inches. That is five stitches to the inch.

I looked back at the bag, which did not look loosely knit at all. If anything, it looks quite firmly knit. And why would you knit a bag loosely, anyway - you want it to hold it's shape and you want it to not have stitches so loose that stuff falls out. (Especially when it is not a market bag and you will not be putting large items that can take care of themselves, like Cantaloups and whole chickens, in there.)

I did not buy the assigned yarn because I have numerous balls of sportweight cotton lying around here. I am now looking with interest at various worsted weights and wondering how they will look as a bag...

The second pattern is for the Victorian Lace Headband Pattern Now frankly, I have a feeling you can use DK, which it calls for, or Worsted, which would give you a marginally wider band... (It is designed as 2.5 inches wide. that means what, about 14 Stitches? [for soem reason they call for 18, but ok...] Well, if you have 17 stitches in Worsted Weight it comes up to just over three inches. This is presuming you can't get the lace to block a little narrower and longer, which frankly seems unlikely to me.)

Or, you could probably use a real sport weight, and at 6 stitches to the inch you'd get..(.exactly 3 inches with the 18 stitches you actually are asked to cast on. So wouldn't that mean in DK it would be at least 3 inches? But they say it is 2.5)

I know my math skilz are lacking a bit here and there. I just didn't know theirs were too.

That, or these useful yarn names have gone the way of the 7 digit phone number, stamps you had to lick and car ignition keys that are actually metal and actually physically unlock something...

My dumb luck...

All this and the H1N1 Too.

Butts with building permits and abdomens with their own zip codes - this is what it comes down to as we approach 50? Who says this is so great? May I strangle them, please? I assure you, I have been wearing clothes that don't match whenever I want to since my salad days, so don't think you're luring me with that one, world...

Anyway, I did think you knittin gfolks would be interested in some of the rest of the yarn I remembered having...

Like the Brilliance I bought for the Wren that never got longer than an inch

And the Zen I bought which has yet to even be swatched

And something else I have 19 or 20 balls each of a beige and a pale yellow, for that cabled Berroco sweater...

And then, of course, the 48 or so little balls of some kind of cotton boucle in chartreuse.

Three or four large men's cotton sweaters I have frogged for the yarn...

A bag and a half of jade green cotton somewhere around worsted weight.

Enough of this linneny thing mixed with wool or something that I bought years and years ago to make a summer top out of only it never got made and is probably all still in there.

Oh, yeah - the brown stuff that I started a shrug with, only Chris made the shrug and it wasn't worth it so I stopped...

And I think I have a sort of dark pink with darker pink, also dk...

We are not counting the sweater I knit in like 1995 which is all done except for being put together, and except for that I lost the sleeves...

But now onto the flu...

As you may or may not realize, where I live is under seige to at least some small degree. Schools are being closed. An assistant principal has died. The mayor is making at least daily public statements. There is news truck out at the county jail where the union is complaining about it...

And here I sit with one kid under six and one with what they like to call "An underlying medical condition" wondering if I should leave town, or stay put.

Why am I even contemplating this

Ok - if you have known me for six years, like Bets and Eileen and Benne, then you might know that I started out my online knitting life weighing 190 lbs at five foot two and not that thrilled about it. I did make myself one sweater at that size, true. And I loved it. But I can't say it had a slenderizing effect.

Then, I got pregnant and I couldn't knit for months and months because I got carpal tunnel.

After that I did lose some weight and got down to 140, which is where Bets and Daryl got to meet me. And I was thinking of making myself a sweater.

And now I am back up to 173 or so, look like an oil drum with a little head on it, and have decided to knit myself a summer sweater in a better size. If I get thin again, fine. If not, at least I will have a pretty sweater.

This does not make a lot of sense as I have friends who are a bit more portly than I am and I think they look fine, but I despise my shape, I always have, even when I was 110 pounds, and I just refuse to knit myself a tent. It just is not worth it.

So, I went to Smiley's yesterday and bought enough yarn for five summer sweaters, because, of course, when you feel lousy about yourself spending money is always good, right? Actually, since each bag of yarn was only 12 dollars it was really a steal - tell me the last time you saw Rowan Cashcotton at 1.20 USD a ball. (They only had two colors, but one is ok on me...) Or Nashua Ribbon. you get the drift... And trust me, I left a lot of good stuff behind - Rowan Biggy Print, some fantastic looking boucle, and a sort of airy thing in my favorite periwinkle. Besides all the worsted weight wool I did not get at 1.99 for a skein of 100 grams because - well, because I have enough balls of that wool, that very very same wool, to make not one, not two, but at LEAST three cabled sweaters, and if I could only find the two bags I bought years ago, I would have more... And I have enough 100 percent wool worsted weight from other brands to make, I dunno, off hand, another seven sweaters, most of them cabled. This is only worsted...so it is not like I am going to run out of stuff to knit any time soon..but I digress... The point was, I limited myself to five bags for sweaters and one for socks. (regia with silk for 1.20 a ball.)

So, I was thinking - just what do I have in terms of summer sweater stuff, and what can I make from it?

I have - enough - of a red cotton/acrylic blend for one of those pinwheel sweaters. Maybe something else as well.

I have enough of a very pretty blend with a multi strand for a shell or tee.

I have enough acrylic boucle for something.
(in Two colors So really, two somethings.)

I have a red slubby yarn - one shell or tee

I have this funny sort of ribbony tapey God knows what yarn in a peach variegated - enough for more than one thing...

I have WAY MORE than enough of a cotton/acrylic mix in orange, green and who knows what to make a shell, a sweater - whatever I think I can stand, really,

I have enough of a pink yarn in cotton

Green and black yarn in cotton

white yarn (not my best color) in cotton/acrylic

variegated that Betsy gave me - maybe a little short, but the kind of variegation where you could probably find one of the colors in a solid that would work for say, straps or whatever...

Enough Lion Brand Ribbon for a racer back tank.

Enough Cotton from brown Sheep - you know the stuff - it has Merino in it - for a tank, far as I can tell - maybe a tee. Or maybe a tank and the rest can be straps for the variegated...

This is what I can find offhand...
There is supposed to be more, which is probably in there somewhere...

And it does not count what I bought yesterday.

I also have access to Ravelry - not every knitting pattern ever invented by knitter kind, but close. Available on my screen, 24 hours a day, with wonderful sorting mechanisms...

So why can I not decide one flipping thing to start???????????????