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It's PIF time again. One of the most wonderful women I know isn't having it easy, but through it all she has been a wonderful friend. She is just so awesome and talented. I try to match up to her skills but I'm me and she is she. Today I'm feeling pretty good about what I've made for this lady.

It's a little bit silly and very cute. It's not perfect but let's face it, I'm an amateur-play-around-crafter what do we expect. Let's see if you can guess what it is... 

It's not a jewellery roll...

Not a fold away table runner...

Not a storage bag for buttons...

It's a collapsable button draughts board! I absolutely love it, here's hoping she does too!

I saw this in a magazine while away for the weekend, it's supposed to be a Christmas gift idea so kids have something original to do on the big day, but who says all the kids get to have the fun.

Punctuated Projects

I read an article recently about the therapeutic powers of baking. Personally I think this is absolute TOSH. For those of you that know me or have read my earlier blogs you will appreciate my journey with baking, I try, I usually fail, a blog is written and I get back to my crafting. What I do find therapeutic though, is the entirely captivating powers of craft.

I regularly start projects get distracted like a five year old and then move onto something else, but a common thread is I return to these projects and finish them off- unlike a five year old. Either after a week and polish off to perfection or repeatedly take them out add to them and then put it away again. 

Most people would assume this makes for boring, elongated projects (sometimes true) but for me it makes them more special because they become witnesses to my existence. I'm guilty of personifying everything. As I sit adding to a piece of craft I think about where I was the last time I was doing it, who I was with, what was happening. It always makes me think about when I learned how to do the craft and as such laughable, not always happy but laughable, memories start to build up. I usually put the craft away because it has beaten me but I rarely remember that frustration, especially when what I add to the work looks as pretty as this:

It probably doesn't look much to you but that tiny feather is part of a much bigger project. A project that has been going for years, a project that I both love and hate but one that's seen me through uni, two relationships one of which turned into marriage, arguments and make ups, dream jobs and house moves. As you can see I'm a busy girl so it's hardly surprising projects get put on the back burner for a while.

Each time I get this particular cross stitch out, I'm convinced I will finish it off once and for all. But as I've aged and hopefully matured- jury is still out on that one - I'm happy to accept that whatever I add to it this time will be a memory for the next time.

Super Fatty Crafter

I'm a teacher by trade, fairly new at it, but I completely embrace some aspects with enthusiasm and excitement, other aspects I cuddle like a drunken relative that I would really rather avoid.

One of the aspects I adore is the requirement to have stationary. Lots and lots of stationary. Since being little I've always felt the need to buy stationary and every new start of term was a wonderful excuse to buy a new pencil case, all the contents and whatever novelty rubber set that was popular at the time. So when I was given a stationary catalogue and told I could make a list I nearly imploded trying to maintain my professional demeanour whilst secretly wanting to wee myself with excitement. For the record I haven't wee'd myself with excitement for a long time but you get the picture at how thrilled I was now.

The stationary arrived but then the conundrum, how to display such goodies?

Decopatch was clearly the only sane way to go.

Ladies and gents (I know of at least one fella that reads this) there we have:

1. A shoe box

2. Two pop bottles

3. Two milk cartons

4. A margarine tub and a

5. A water bottle 

All decopatched in an array of purples, pinks, blues and greens. A maximum of three colour shades per item of course.

I take this beauty into class with me knowing I will always have the implements to support my students. Although as stationary is so important to me, should a student need to borrow a pen I do require a shoe deposit.

The decopatch took me a couple of days - there was a lot that needed drying time- and pretty much emptied my recycling bin for that afternoon. At which point I realised I was partially responsible for keeping 7 items out of machines to regurgitate fumes into our environment - run with me here, it's the only way to get to my end point even if it's flawed, I was saving our environment. I think saving such a huge commodity for the world makes me somewhat of a superhero. You can call me Super Fatty Crafter! For all your decopatch needs!

Ok, possibly a little hyperbolic there, but I still think its pretty neat. Yes I probably used enough glue to bath my dog in and yes buying these items fair trade would've been a better option, but I like them. I get a sense of satisfaction using my collection, and possibly what I love the most is the potential for the collection to grow. Should a new stationary item become required I'm sure there is a container waiting to be decopatched to hold it.

Help!

I like the idea of undoing work about as much as I like the idea of licking a sweaty bear's armpit. It's right up on my to do list with pulling my eyelashes out. Perhaps this is the reason I got so good at improvisation, at being able to 'fix' craft errors and change designs to produce as good an outcome as if I had followed the original plan. There are however some points in a crafter's day that defeat must be acknowledged and the only thing to do is undo.

This happened to me recently with a cross-stitch project I've been working on for nearly 18 months. I haven't actually been making my own version of the Bayeaux tapestry it's just I pick up and put down projects at the same velocity a child on lucky charms does laps of a garden. 

I thought I had found a fix to a border problem. A miscalculation left a 3 space gap where there should only be a 1 space gap. 'Not to fear', I thought, I will just put another pattern across the middle complimenting the design. I picked a nice flowery design and set to. At least an hour later, two colours and back stitch I proudly displayed my work to the craft critic in my house to have the rose tinted glasses removed. It did indeed look crap. The pattern was fine but having it go through the middle cut the should-be-complimenting words in half effectively divorcing them. Less than ideal!

Another, very stressful, very blue, hour later, this is what I had to show for my salvation attempt.

I was not a happy person and an even less easy person to live with. You can't even use these threads for anything else!

I've still to discover how I'm going to fix my 3-space-should-be-1-space problem (undoing the entire border really isn't an option) so if you have any advice I would be extremely grateful. If not, chances are the project will go away for another indescriminate period of time until I can think of another approach.

Did I also mention that I now have a green line across my work that needs sorting too?

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.