Craft Corner DEATH MATCH - kid designed

The challenge: let your kid design something. Then make it for them.

Gavin's first idea was "army of kittens". On a quilt. No, on a t-shirt. No, a pillow. And not kittens, instead we should do "Death of cats," to go with the Death of rats in the Hogfather. With "MEOW", in ALL CAPS. Because that is how Death talks. MEOW. 

So that is what I made.

I finally used my freemotion quilting foot, which I got for Christmas three years ago. It was a first attempt and I completely suck at it, but hot damn is it fun to use. Like driving a machine gun.

The pillow was a hit. For about 20 minutes, they rolled around on the floor, dragged out one of my quilts, and pretended to put themselves to bed - until someone got an elbow to the face and someone pulled out a foam sword and in the resulting brawl I threatened to hang them both by the ceiling fan and beat them with a stick.

The key to successful parenting: follow-through.

Or video games. Whatever, I made a pillow.

hose

I became derailed from knitting a sock by knitting a sock. My goal of hosing all the one-legged people is coming along according to plan.

Anyway, Highland dancers mostly only hop on the one foot. This is probably why.

Toirneach Kilt Hose

The calf decreases are sexy. For sexy man-legs. Which I almost have, so these are pretty accurate previews.

When these are done, I will make little kilt hose for the small boyfolk. Out of babby-melting acrylic, because the fisherman's wool is making me breathe like a pug dog.

President's Day

I am not really sure what President's Day is for. Presumably to settle politics in some sort of Hunger Games scenario.

So obviously, I was not eligible to participate. I sewed a pillowcase, instead. 

It fit the first time I zipped it, which was lucky because I accidentally tore off the pull tab and can never get it open again. No washing for you, pillowcase.

The cat watched me from on top of the hutch. For about 20 minutes, she just sat like this:

Yes, that is my actual cat. I had to check several times to make sure she was alive. She was. Well - animated, at least. I have a shovel ready if she's not actually alive.

We went to the beach, which I did not document because we were all huddled against the whipping sheets of sand. Went home smooth and blemish-free. Except for the sandblast scabbing.

In the afternoon, my mom figured out how to text me.

Gavin made a model volcano.

He assembled the mold, poured the plaster, painted it, and then we murdered all the cardboard villagers.

In the evening, I started knitting kilt hose. And, I admit it, they are wool - I am taking my life in my hands.

But I opened a window, so that should totally stop me from dying of asthma.

Lent starts Wednesday. I am giving up beer, chocolate, not exercising, and other people's drama. This last one is difficult, as there is a giant angry wife after me, pressing her face against the library window every morning to see if I'm - I don't know - banging her husband over the circulation desk in broad daylight*. But as of Wednesday, I promise to stop wearing push-up bras just to piss her off.

*In case this does not go without saying, I AM NOT.

Craft Corner DEATH MATCH - you deserve a crown, regardless

The challenge: crowns!

I made a miniature werewolf crown out of card stock, and the cat ate it. But that was ok! Because we got an extra week to work on it!

That extra week contained Valentine's Day. And a police report at work. So... I forgot.

Thursday is a late day at work, so I threw the kids out of the car at school and bellied up to the love-day loot.

Checked my email and - OH GOD YERMITS HAS FABRIC STIFFENER. I AM SUPPOSED TO BE MAKING A CROWN.

And...

*trumpet solo*

I have my crown, REGARDLESS of time management skills

POSE TIME

Then the crown went to work with me. Whoever wears the crown gets to brandish phones and fists at the rest of the staff. Because we deserve it.

See proper crowns from Yermits, Robot a Day, and Sarah Apple over at

  Craft Corner DEATH MATCH dot com!

Craft Corner DEATH MATCH - repetition repetition repetition

Repetition is my bread and butter. Libraries are cathedrals of repetition. Our volume of repetition is such that we have masses of signage taped to every surface and hanging from the ceiling on twine, so we can just point and gesture with our eyebrows after our voice boxes have burnt out.

We project warmth and availability with our grace and charm. 

Except when we don't, because a hobo has just rested his balls on our desk.

Most-asked question: Where is the bathroom?
Answer: Down the hall. That hall right there. There is only one hall, go down it right over there. THERE you go, good luck.

Second most frequent question: I don't have my library card.
Answer: that is not a question. Also: no.

Third most frequent question: Can I plug this in? 
Answer: Sure, if you are using it. You just can't recharge things.
Question: but I don't want to use it, I just want to charge it.
Answer: What did I just say?

The books. The books never end. You check them out, beep, and check them in, beep. Which is kind of relaxing, and you can hum little songs about Pablo Neruda's vagina poetry and Paul Theroux's cannibalism. Beep. Angel-mermaid erotica. Beep. Quilting vampire slayers. Beep. Spacecraft zombie-virus outbreaks. Beep. Immortal-albino-detective murder mystery. Beep.*

"Can I charge my car battery... in the bathroom?"

Repetition is fun. You can hone your diplomatic wit when people ask what you thought of The Hangover 2, and devise different ways to gently warn people that you have wasp spray behind the desk, and know which creeps are sneaking into the bathroom to steal the used sanitary napkins so you can set traps for them. Repetition makes my day worth tarting up for.

See what repetition is repeating itself for Yermits, Robotaday, and Sarah Apple over at our NEW SUPER FANCY ACTUAL WEBSITE - Craft Corner Death Match dot com!


*All of these are real books. GET TO A LIBRARY. Just don't eat soup off the dictionary or pee in the potted plants or try to check out with your Supercuts punch card.**

**Also all real things. GET TO A LIBRARY AND SEE WEIRD THINGS.