5.03.2016

5.02.2016

sport vs craft

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In my head, there is this mythical place in the future when all my time constraints, conflicts and responsibilities are erased, and it's must me and my creative force, working together to make super fabulous things. And I never get crafter's block, it's just all productivity, all the time. I can even see my children volunteering to do the tedious tasks like run quilt seams or stuff dolls...

 Ah.

But now, in the real world, there is constant, sweet conflict. My loves are split between very different activities. Sports vs. crafts. They do not mix.  My roller insurance won't cover skating while knitting. 

Since I am involved in all the aspects of roller derby, not just a player (as we all are - it's a necessarily diy sport), I'm usually officiating or running some sort of administrative side while the girl child skates.  This past weekend was the first time I actually sat in the stands and watched the girl skate.  I could of hand stitched or knitted.  But then I couldn't clap (without harm).

One day that tension will be gone.  Age, injury - it's going to get me.  And I'll miss it, since our sports life and our crafting time are both highly valued.  The pull between these opposites make that time seem that more precious.

In the meanwhile, I think I'll take those very small areas where the two might possibly converge and exploit it.  Maybe I'll make a shirt that says, 'I'd rather be hitting people', to wear while sewing.  And a scrimmage shirt that says, 'you think I'm bad now, you should see me with scissors'. 

4.29.2016

dumpster chair stage one

A crack seat beauty of a chair was left out by a dumpster.

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This Michael Miller fabric happened to be close at hand.

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This is stage one of the upcycle. Gothic diy.

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For stage two, I want to slipcover the back with a gravestone. Or a bit of fabric cleverly made to look like a gravestone, since it is quite gravestone-y shaped, don't you think?

I'm completely stalled out on what to have printed or painted upon it.  Something inspired by a classic horror writer?  A Mary Shelley or Bram Stoker quote?  Or borrow an epitaph from a historic headstone?

What do you think?

4.09.2016

potato sack

Girl child was cast as a potato sack for this session's go around with her youth theatre. So far, my only costume assignment has been to a potato sack costume. We're both trying not to take it personally.

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Obviously I left it until the last day before the deadline because I was thinking, phhhst, how hard could sewing a potato sack be?

Y'all know how this one works, right?

The sack design was all good.  Where it went sideways was, unsurprisingly, the cussin' technology.  Upper loopers make me want to put my head through the wall.

I use my serger maybe twice a year now and the general rule for sewing machines is that every week they aren't pressed into service, they require two minutes in general maintenance and tweaking to get them going again.  My hour of necessary pre-work went into threading and re-threading that upper looper.  It's a good thing that I spent an entire year working my way through every possible serger problem the first year I had my machine (including having the factory settings being completely off at first, an unsolvable issue that had me needing to re-hydrate from my lost tears nightly with a bottle of wine).  All those problems learning opportunities left me with nearly instinctual ability to re-thread the machine and, I don't mean to brag, but an almost superhuman ability to stay calm under extreme serger provocation.  My serger zen does me proud.  I list it on my CV.

Once the serger was finally subdued, the potato sack was a fairly fast job.  Of course.  Because it's a sack.

Girl child is a better person than I.  Though she was initially disappointed, she has since embraced the sack. She works it.  I'm pretty sure that I couldn't pull of potato sack as well.  Her potato sackish-ness does me proud.  Obviously she'll have to list potato sack on her CV.


video

4.08.2016

grocery list

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Hey, who has to run through the grocery store like our asses are on fire because we're running between jiu jitsu and roller derby practices, but still managed to find the time to type out the grocery list, make corrections, and draw helpful illustrations?

This family!

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It's this sort of thing, I was thinking as I consulted my shopping list that had been hand typed on a fifty year old piece of technology while speed walking through a mega-grocery emporium at dinner time, that gives homeschoolers a bad name for time management.  I also note that training my children in combat sports has given us a distinct advantage with the produce section crowds.

It's all about priorities.