A coupla princesses

Young Miss turned three with all the accompanying sparkle and sticky.

I whipped this Topsy Turvy Cinderella up for her using this pattern from Jean Greenhowe. And when I say "whipped" what I mean is "I spent a bazillion grueling hours knitting my fingers into carpal-tunnelous crab legs."





Usually, when you spend a lot of time and consideration in making something for a child, they dislike it and do not want to play/wear/eat it. For instance, for Christmas, I... you know what? Never mind about the for instances. But, I am happy to announce that this is a happy exception to that sucky rule. Young Miss loves Cinderella, and drags her along by the hand everywhere she goes. Or rather, I modify, she loves half of Cinderella. The post-fairy-godmother half. I often flip over the skirt to remind her that there is so much more of Cinderella to love (not to mention I'm ten times prouder of the shabby, scullery look) but no! Young Miss has no patience for the unrefined. If it ain't fancy, it ain't flying. So, swoosh goes the skirt, back to the prince-nabbing, glass-slippered side of Cinderella, and off the two princess march to discuss tu-tus and chapstick and the color pink. And you know? I take what I can get.

EH?

New Family Pictures

Check these puppies out! I'm SO excited!

EH?

Master and Miss and Co.

In the world of craft, there is this comical and congenial principle called "idea stealing." Or rather, you think it is comical when you are doing the stealing, and you hope it is congenial when the party you are stealing from catches wind of the theft. If you are the party of the first part, or rather, the one with the original idea, it is neither comical nor congenial. You are flattered, perhaps, but there is a strong sense of injustice along with it. All axes would be buried if you were cited every time the stolen idea was praised, but you know you will not be. The party of the second part will take all the credit, and just bask in their stolen glory. My sister Mim and I are involved in constant capers of good-natured thievery. Good-natured, I tell you.

So, here's my point. I've stolen an idea. But, I deserve complete pardon, because, a. I will cite my source, and b. the party of the first part is also the party of the second part. In other words, I stole an idea from myself.

Using Goldie and Co. as inspiration, I created these portraits of my kids. See? Nothing criminal. Just a tribute, really.





Yoink! On-sale stretched canvas squares, a little paint, a little fabric, a little embroidery floss stitchery (pictures don't really showcase the 3-D element so much, but there's a nice sensorial appeal).

And actually, this is a double-whammie-self-theft, because, those kids' faces are borrowed from originals that I also created (with some help), (minus Welby, the one with horns). Here's the inspiration:





Ah... I forgive myself.

And I will forgive you too, if you happen to steal this idea.

EH?

Mother's Day

Being a mother is my favorite. Last night, Young Master poops in the bathtub, which we drain and are scrubbing out while he commences to pee on his bed. Scoop children back into tub, start a load of laundry, Young Miss pours half a bottle of soap into the bathwater. Dig two children out of two feet of suds, wipe soap out of eyes amidst weeping and wailing, remember what necessitated a bath in the first place, and scrub modeling clay out of Young Miss's bangs while she screams about wanting to do it all by herself.


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Being a mother is my favorite. Mother's Day, I am served breakfast in bed, and showered in receipts representing the gifts that have not yet arrived in the mail (including this book, yippity yee!) On my breakfast tray is one of the most breath-stealing, original flower arrangements I have ever seen. My Man, for all his big hands, calloused and stained with axle grease, dirt under the nails, and hardened cement in the grooves of his wedding ring, sure does beautiful things with flowers. Then Master and Miss come in, climb up beside me, wiggle and piggle, spill a bit of granola, jostle my floral arrangement, distributing hugs and kisses in abundance. My joy is complete.

EH?

Goldie and Co.

Here is a sneak peek of my first fabric collection for Andover Fabrics, printing in Fall, 2010! (All images are copyrighted by Andover Fabrics).

Once upon a time there was a curly-haired kid who one day disregarded everything her mother had ever told her about stranger danger, and walked right into a cottage in the woods. (She also disregarded everything her mother had ever told her about breaking and entering).

She made herself quite at home, helping herself to some porridge she found on the table (I could launch into a lengthy aside about the manners of this child). She then damaged some property, and worn out from the afternoon's activities, fell asleep in a bed upstairs.

But the joke was on her, because the house was inhabited by a family of bears, who came upon her snoozing in their cub's trundle. There are varying accounts of what happened next, but what I heard is that she scrambled out the window, and ran home as fast as her lil' legs could carry her, and never disregarded her mama's advice ever again. As for the bears, they were left shaking their heads, and thereafter began locking their front door, which is a good practice, no matter how safe you think your neighborhood is.
EH?

Maiden Voyage

Hi, this is the awesome blog of graphic/textile designer, mama, wifey, craftswoman, Simon and Garfunkel fan, Eirene Henderson. Stay tuned.