An adulterous crafter

My friend is pregnant, five months ago she told me about her expanding family, and belly, and as she is the first in our friendship group to become a mum I didn't really know what the protocol was. Thankfully my other half came to my rescue and congratulated the couple while my socially stunted brain processed the information. I would like to think I redeemed myself when I offered to make the baby a crocheted blanket. I love crochet so it didn't really seem like much of a chore, win win. 

What hadn't occurred to me was that I had been cheating on crochet with craft. I have been so wrapped up with new forms of craft I had completely forgotten about my first love. So when I started the blanket, excited to be reigniting the relationship I was surprised that crochet was not as excited to have me back. 

The first attempt at an advanced level technique failed miserably- hardly surprising- so I undid it and reconsidered my approach. 

The second attempt seemed to be going well until on my 14th round the square was not so much square and more an uneven hexagon. I decided to persevere but after another hours worth of effort it was clear I needed to undo it again.

After three unsuccessful attempts at following a pattern and having to undo hours worth of work I have to admit I did consider buying a blanket for my friend, ripping the label off and messing with it a bit to make it look like I had made it but I'm far too stubborn for my own good. Instead I abandoned the patterns and went back to basics. 

I used half treble crochet for the middle and a granny square type pattern for the border. It finally, worked really well. 

As the parents don't want to know the sex of the baby and my friend and I have always had a running banter about colours, I went a little crazy with my wool choice. Definitely more than three colours there! The outer edge incorporates the colours of the rainbow- I was certainly sick of the song by the time I reached pink! But I smiled as I imagined my friend singing the song - equipped with a visual aid, to her baby. 

I had a lot of suggestions by my very honest grandmother as I made this as to what I should do but I'm glad I stuck to my imagination. I text a picture of the finished outcome to my friend (we have a long distance relationship) and to my relief she really liked it. I'm not exactly sure what I would've done if she had hated it. 

I really enjoyed my time with the 4.0 needle and have already started thinking about my next project, I also have rekindled my relationship with my sewing machine, just in case Its feeling rejected.

I'm not going to stop meeting new crafts and wooing their crafty goodness but I am going to remember to show my loyalty to the crafts that I woo'd a while ago. 

Let this be a lesson to all you adulterers out there, anger the wrong craft and she will pay you back!

Not just for pleasure

I love cooking because I can bend the rules, adding new ingredients in cooking is a good thing. I love crafting for the same reason. Wherever my imagination is what counts and my resourcefulness is called upon I'm in my element. 

I don't like following specific guidelines. So when it comes to sewing I love seeing what my machine can do to make decorative pieces and as long as the curtains are how I want them I will make them until my needle snaps. However, when I have to repair clothes this is less fun to me.

Redoing seams means strict straight lines. I'm not so good with the strict, the newly sewn hem of my work trousers looks like a five year old did it, but no one is going to see it too closely so I'm not really bothered. On the up side the black cotton I used was free and although far too big for the reel I was able to stick a colouring crayon to the holder so I could still use it. Bargain and resourceful!

But what I really wanted to revel in today is the dress I've brought back to life that you can see in the picture.

I've had this dress for about 7 years (I don't throw stuff away) and I called upon it once again for a wedding at the weekend. But disaster struck when busting some moves on the dance floor my right boob popped out to congratulate the bride and groom. Don't worry we were fully bra'd in place so it wasn't that embarrassing. Now I know I've lost weight- a good thing I'm told- and the dress is old so the elastic on the back is going but I love this dress and I'm not ready to throw it out.

Back to the resourcefulness, after my semi-successful hems I thought I would put some darts in the dress to tighten it at the top and although a professional could probably have done better, I'm rather chuffed with myself.

The dress fits snugly again, I've bounced around my living room to make sure, and you can't see the darts at all for the material that goes around the body and ties at the back. Result!

I think I might be even more cautious about throwing things out in future.

Confession of Craftaholic

It's my wedding anniversary today and that is something to celebrate. I haven't injured myself or anyone else and am still affectionate toward my husband. Enough sop, let's move onto the craft.

As most five year olds, the inner child in me gets very excited about presents. I warned my husband that I was never going to not want a gift and that he should probably remember this when I'm too tired or distracted to drop heavy hints. I am incredibly easy to buy for though so don't feel too bad for him. He on the other hand, along with having a unusual name, is impossible to buy for. His hobbies are so specialised I stand no chance of buying a gift of any real purpose or substance so I'm often left with the unenviable choice of money, I.O.U or voucher. I like receiving gifts but as any outer adult I like seeing the smile of a well thought out gift being appreciated too so imagine my dismay when the first year category is paper and under interrogation my fella decides an airsoft magazine - the paper kind not the load with BB's and shoot kind - would be the perfect gift. Without ordering from the Internet and paying double the price this is impossible. With only a week, ok more like two days, I was running out of options. Then it occurred to me, I just needed to consult my inner craftiness. I would make a magazine, it can't be that hard.

I gathered all the feature stories, reviews, funny pictures and recipes that I could. All good magazines have a recipe of some kind. Then came the putting together. Six hours worth of craft, a full roll of double sided tape and probably a full ink cartridge and the magazine was born.

Seeing how pleased my husband was with the magazine made all the hard work worth it.

Hard work? Who am I kidding, I loved making every page, I'm already looking forward to next year's challenge. Then it dawned on me, if crafting can be used to supply an airsoft fix maybe I really have reached the realm of craftaholicness. No that isn't a word, I will give myself a good talking to for that later.

Creativity knows no limits

When I started this blog I wanted it to be about my crafting life, I didn't want to turn it into a diary. As it turns out, crafting is such a big part of my life that it may as well be a diary! 

Recently I went to Calcutta in India. I went with four other amazing people all wanting to serve God in a school that our church sponsors. This school provides education to the children of slums and poverty in hopes that speaking English and being able to achieve their certificates will give them a chance at employment. Our job for the week was to teach using games and creativity (my favourite word) both the children and the teachers and to revamp the school.

 I don't have 'before' pictures on my phone but here are some of our efforts to turn a small dingy classroom into something a little more special.

In the older group we made personal flags, when I spoke to the tutors about displaying the children's work they didn't really seem to know what I meant. Here is hoping they get the idea.

This was to inspire the children to dream but to encourage them to work hard.

This room is for the youngest of the students and was the biggest room to try to turn into something good.

There were five of us working on these rooms, the base colour is gloss paint and I can assure you that the smell of gloss will live with me forever, there was some definite hysteria produced from close proximity with the fumes!

We didn't have long and only had the resources we had taken but I'm hoping that the children see and feel a massive difference. 

The time we spent there will perpetually teach me a lot of life lessons, of that I am sure, and more than one thing will stick with me for a long time but for now it's the image of a ageing lady who couldn't speak English that was with us at every moment. If we painted, so did she, if we were covered in dirt, she tenderly cleaned our hands and faces, if we were tired, she fetched drinks and fans. Without a word of communication, without knowing us, this lady cared for us in an incomprehensible way. To her and so many others I will be forever thankful.

I guess my crafting went with me to India, and I guess my time in India will go with me everywhere else. 

Honesty is the best policy

What a funny couple of days! 

I'm a Christian, this means I believe in the trinity, that I'm a sinner and that Jesus the son of God came to earth as man to live a perfect life, be put to a cross to die and take away all sins. It does not mean I'm going to hit you with a bible every time I see you or try to slip holy water into your tea. Now we've cleared that up we can get to my point.

Last Friday night I taught a craft session at a church event on wool words:

There were 50 women attend the ladies night which involved cake and tea served by handsome men in tuxedos. There was prayer and testimonies and it's fair to say a good time was had by all.

As I was teaching the craft to a large group I was given a microphone. For the record I should never be given a microphone. I tend to say ridiculous things and generally turn a nice shade of crimson. But needs must. 

Now while the ladies were doing the easy but slow part to the craft I decided to entertain them by talking a little bit about what I do and why I was there teaching. As such I told them about the college I work for and was probably too honest for my own good.

After the evening's proceedings a lovely lady approached me and asked me about my college. A little stunned I started to panic thinking my p45 was in the post for sure. What actually happened was she offered me a potential job. My jaw hit the floor but I picked up a piece of wool to disguise my utter surprise. Of course I was interested but this had to be too good to be true. I've wanted to make a job out of my hobby for a while but never found my way in.

The lady took my contact details and left. I was convinced it was a dream until an email came through inviting me to an interview. This is where I was this morning. The hours will be sessional and the courses short but it's certainly worth thinking about! 

There are a few points to iron out but God willing all things will work together. As such I just want to give some veteran no hopers like me some encouragement. Honesty, it would turn out, is the best policy and the next amazing opportunity is only a 'yes' away. When I found out the craft might would be to 50 people I nearly backed out, joined my nearest convent and took a vow of silence so I didn't have to admit to my nerves and shame. But instead I covered my bingo wings, smiled and thought 'here we go then' and right now I'm so thankful that I did.

Crap at life, good at craft

I think the title of today's post definitely should be written on a tombstone for me. 

Today I was supposed to get my visa. I was supposed to go to the Indian consulate, prove I'm a person and leave to return one day next week to collect my visa allowing me to travel to Howrah in less than a fortnights time. 

Upon arrival at the wrong building whilst surveying the people around me I realised quite an important thing. I'm an idiot. It was bad enough that I was at the wrong place but the cherry on the cake was that I had driven an hour and a half to produce my passport to the authorities with one minor mishap- I had forgotten my passport.

Oops! Oh well I thought maybe they could process my paperwork without it. So after I wandered listlessly around the jewellery quarter (talk about temptation!) I found the right building and a rather friendly security guard who informed me that I was a dreamer with no hope. He put it more politely than that but the sentiment was the same. He gave me a ticket and pointed me in the right direction and I dutifully waited for the third person to tell me I'm a duffus. I had already given myself a stern telling off.

The tv shouted me to the booth and the security man was right. There was no hope for me. I would have to return a different day. Ah well at least I know where I am going and I had accurately inserted information about my parents- that much they could tell me. But to get the visa another trip was necessary. As I walked and then drove home I must've said 'on the bright side' a dozen times. This put me in quite a good mood - there was no one around to remind me how ridiculously I had failed. As such I thought I would give machine embroidery another try, and guess what? It worked!

I've finished three words and already thinking about the fourth. With a little bit of time and a lot of patience I managed to fix the machine problem. Admittedly I had to sacrifice a needle at the alter of sewing machine Gods but my offering seemed to please them.

So although my journey of self discovery led me to realise I'm still scatty and a little bit stupid, at least I still get my craft right. And let's face it, who wants to be good at life when you're awesome at craft?

Every cloud...

It's the end of the academic year and so it's time to reflect on all things education. Part of making this time bearable - because we are northerners- includes a fuddle (not a state of confusion but a gathering of people and food) commonly referred to as a picnic but this is inside. It's a really nice way to end the year and start the summer. In order that this fuddle can be most effective there is a list drawn up with who will be bringing which delectable goodie. Yes fun has started to seep away already but I did say we are in education.

I consider myself a sociable person, I'm happy to divulge my goings on with my colleagues and regularly regale my tales of woe. So when the list went up you can imagine both my surprise and horror as I discovered I was bringing... Wait for it.... Cake. Flipping cake! 

We have established I can't bake. We have accepted this. I was really hopeful they might mean...

But I clarified and nope it was the edible kind they wanted- really not much point asking me! I asked if I could be in charge of decorations instead, put together a really nice patchwork table cloth or something but no, they weren't budging. I had to bring cake. I struggled with this for a while, I even went through the stages: denial- they have the wrong name on the list, nope that's not it, anger- do these people not listen to me at all?? depression- I just can't do it, bargaining (probably came first with the table cloth idea) until I finally arrived at acceptance. So after wrestling with my dilemma this is what was delivered for the fuddle:

Isn't it beautiful! It's an angel cake with icing and sprinkles. The icing isn't perfect but the cake - moist... Let me tell you fish couldn't put it into words! 

I was so satisfied with myself. Everyone was so impressed with my contribution. Even more impressed that I had put it in a box with all the ingredients on so anyone with allergies could make an informed decision. Even more impressed I had costed the cake should someone want to make it for themselves on a budget. And it blew their socks off that I had attached a barcode!

For those of you that haven't worked it out yet- it's shop bought. And I don't even feel bad. Everyone loved it. Which they wouldn't have done had I have try to bake. On the upside, if I continue to make these I will be a lot closer to growing that third boob I mentioned in an earlier post. Every cloud and all that...