Surrender

Herr Becher never ceases to amaze me. He's midway through the second book of the 'Twilight' saga, and has just informed me (not entirely grudgingly, I might add) that he's willing to see the movie with me this weekend, if, in fact, it's still playing somewhere. I'm pretty sure I can locate a venue, even if it's been dumped to the dollar cinema. I have a date. With the Edward and the Herr. See, it's been a bewildering week all around.

Upping the weird quotient has been all the activity at the shop. New customers continue to appear out of the woodwork and sales for the week are up enough to keep the gnawing fear and doubt at bay for the moment. Westminster might even get a sizable chunk of the monies owed them this month. In retail, relief is spelled 'dollars', and such a relief would have been unimaginable just a few weeks ago. Crafty, creative women are capturing my heart and the words of encouragement I've been getting these days are a balm to my soul. The past eighteen months of struggle seem like they're starting to pay off, and it's like finally breaking through deep water to catch a first, fiery breath of air, just as you'd started to surrender to the overwhelming pull of a downward current. The strength to keep going, keep working, keep trying... I've been getting doses of that strength all week, and it's making me ... giddy.

Tomorrow is the start of a new year. I've always hated the idea of New Year's resolutions, because they always seemed to focus on the negative, always a list of past failures and what I should do about fixing myself. Not this year. This new year is to be the year of living dangerously. Not in a 'hey, watch me be stupid' sort of way, but a year in which I stop shying away from challenges. Making time for fun. Exploring the world. Getting my children interested in more learning and making things with their hands. Spending more time dreaming and acting on those dreams. Replacing old concerns with new perspectives, and working towards the positive things I want for my family, my friends, and my alter-ego. Clementine went into hiding right after the shop opened, once she was satisfied she'd done enough damage to my fragile mental health and our home equity. This year, I'm not going to shove her into a corner ("nobody puts Baby in the corner" ... *snark*); this year, we both get free reign to chase our desires. Hello, New Year. You might want to duck. C

Hatched

The plan, that is. Planning to run away from home the first week of June, going to visit Miss G and any other bloggers we come across. My accomplice has a sister conveniently located for crashing at, and there's a pool, a boat, and luxury SUV access... I'm so happy I could explode. Plenty of time for sight-seeing, pub-crawling, being ridiculous, and knitting. It makes me shiver, that's how happy I am. An escape has been thought of. It's like a beacon of happy to get me through the rest of the winter. Clean underwear and a toothbrush? Check. I'm ready.

Today was probably the second busiest Monday in Clementine's recorded history, but lots of new customers came in and bought gobs of stuff. It was quite fabulous. New Year's Day is the big, super-secret sale, but that didn't dissuade the die-hard fiber fans from squirreling more stash away today. I just realized my feet are kind of exhausted, so I'm going to go rest 'em up for tomorrow.

You go be crafty, then come back here. L8r, knittas.

Winter Wonderland

Last night a wild storm tore through the area. As head nutter here at Becher Haus, I felt it was my responsibilty to make the kids grab pillows and blankets and camp in the living room. The power blinked out for a few minutes, and in spite of the fierce straight-line winds and torrents of rain, nothing seems to be damaged except my psyche. Well, that and a few of the 75 watts blew out when the power fritzed. There was also some mystery dripping, but the cat was on it, and as soon as she ferrets out the leak, we'll deal with it. I let the kids go back to bed after the rain stopped, but I could hear Lego-bits plinking around for another hour. They sleep about as well as I do, anymore.

Tomorrow the shop re-opens. Life returns to normal. Ack.

I miss Monday/Tuesday Mandi already.

At the end of the day

Today was very nearly a perfect day. Kidnapping a few friends for lunch and a bit of light yarn shopping was out of my 'ordinary' and it felt great. Walking several blocks from the pub to the yarn shop in four inch heels wasn't even a chore. The colorless day I'd been destined to have was instead full of giggle-snorts, really wretched jokes, and fun. The biggest hurdle was getting home in zero-visibility fog, but my own OCD tendencies saved me there. I know my way home blindfolded, apparently, so nothing was lost. Biggrrrl has an annoying 'design feature' that doesn't allow for turning off the headlights in the dark, so once I resigned myself to driving into a wall of white, it got easier to surrender to the feel of the road. Home again, home again, jiggity-jig, and with a bag of Burger King for the children of Becher Haus, to boot.

Tomorrow will be spent finishing up quilt tops to get to the quilter. With the advent of the audio book, played through the DVD player (we are nothing if not low-tech here in the sticks), I should have no problem keeping both my hands and mind occupied for awhile. The shop is closed until Monday, when I will be standing in for 'Monday/Tuesday Mandi' whilst she's off at Virginia Beach. She left with a rather extensive list of yarn shops to scope out. I might be a little jealous. It's been strange having a fistful of days to myself. Time to think, to plan, to relax. I had to bail on the in-laws, since there is so much end of the year stuff to do, and preparing for company in the midst of clearing out closets, year-end inventory, and that whole Christmas shenanigan... well, I might not have been quite myself. They've agreed to pick another week. This will cut the Xanax consumption considerably.

Well, it's late, a tired toddler requires attention, and that laundry isn't moving itself into the dryer, so have a great weekend. See you tomorrow. C

Happy Christmas

The Home Stretch

Sliding into the holidays, two of the three last snowmen to make the parade. 'Jack' has been bobbing around here for a good many years. Covered in glitter and obnoxiously cheerful, he keeps vigil on the backside of the tree... he's just too perky for greeting the public.

Crepe-paper collar and sparkly pom-pom 'buttons' are more than enough to make the cut for the collection. A favorite local department store keeps a goodly supply of these starting in August, so he's been waiting around awhile for the season to start.

The gifts have been opened and all the Becher children are rocking out with 'Guitar Hero'... this I have to see. Have a happy holiday. C

Blah, blah, snowman, blah, blah, blah...

Putting the post up without too much commentary about the little man in the fake beard. He likes his anonymity and prefers to hang out on the tree without too much fuss made over him. I knew he was a good addition to the collection because he's proved to be indestructible, even as the eldest child went through her mafia phase. You'd be shocked and appalled at how many snowmen Miss Madeleine has disarmed in her short life. I've kept a stash of the 'unarmed men' for her to take with her when she moves out, but this guy gets to stay with me.

This one, being one of the floating heads in the bunch, has a different set of worries. Sure, with no limbs to snap off, he's less appealing to the children, but there's a bit too much "I've got your nose" going on here these past few Christmases at Becher Haus for him to be really at ease whilst he waits around for Santy-pants to show up.

With another round of ice blanketing us here in Indiana today, I thought I'd show you a little bit of something sunny and pretty. New Kaffe fabrics, which I'm hoping will kick off a burst of happy quilting. Who wouldn't want to wrap themselves in this to keep warm, as we wait for spring to return?

The new color cards arrived today for Rowan yarns. There finally is a gold Kid Silk Haze. It's called 'Ember' and it is gorgeous (of course)and the other new colors ('Garden', a pale, lettuce green, 'Ghost', a silvery grey, and 'Flower', a girly, candy pink) all look so beautiful. I actually bought a special display for the shop to keep a bunch of the pretties in up on the counter. Yum.

We made a small, tactical error in getting the gifts wrapped and put under the tree today. Even with the slow and deliberate explanations to every interested party that they do get to open their gifts on Christmas Eve, it has somehow morphed through the children's grapevine and been interpreted as Christmas Eve morning. Which, in actual fact, was not the agreed upon time. I may have to put the cat on guard duty tonight.

Vera Wang

How I love thee.
Rockin' cute boots, with a four inch heel. I so could not have survived this footwear thirty-five pounds ago. Last night, 'No-Amy' assisted me in power-shopping for new jeans, a coat, and these bad boys. I wore them all day with no ill effects. In other happy news, my pants size no longer begins with a two.

What other wonders await me in the new year? Shirts with shaping? Slutty undergarments? Definitely more high heels. I feel like the old me is slowly getting excavated out from all the baggage I've piled on the past fourteen years.

Playing catch-up with the snow people: this dishy little dude is a plate...

and this one is another faux-cookie, complete with gum drop accents.

I was going to relate a story about our most difficult Christmas ever, but my MIL called and was very pleasant, so I'd look grinchy about telling it.
On second thought, I will. It's not like it didn't go down just like this, so, unless you're faint-hearted, read on...
2000 was coming to a close. We'd spent the past ten months having our home built... I'd gotten a basement 'hole' as a thirtieth birthday present, and it was nearing completion. All the struggling with our builder was about to pay off, and as I had wretched morning sickness with our fourth child on the way, all I wanted was the keys to a finished haus. The moving was going to be a hassle, as we knew we'd be on our own, but we've always moved ourselves. We'd manage. We had the whole holiday to get it done, and on December nineteenth, our builders packed it up and called it 'done'.
Unbeknownst to me, murmurings had been going on about a 'family photo' to be taken over the Christmas holiday. Herr Becher's family is big on the mug shots, but we were hoping to get off the hook this time. Three kids, a pregnant frau, and moving in the dead of winter trumped having to drive in foul weather up to Milwaukee for a group photo, or so I thought. I begged the man not to make us, but my pleas fell on deaf ears, for the Giant Catholic Guilt Trip card had already been played. With only three days to attempt to get 'settled' in our home, we had a deadline to make in Milwaukee. Off we went.

Now, this story gets better if I point out that Herr Becher's #3 sister has kids who are perpetually sick... I've never seen them without snotty noses and coughs, and they all come with a built-in shriek alarm so you know they're still breathing. Sister #4 was in the middle of separating with her spouse (not at all awkward in a small house), and #1 sister looked like she was continually on the verge of tears. It also adds to the charm of the tale if I point out that MIL did not actually have an appointment at a photo studio. The Grand Plan was to go to Sears Portrait Studio the day before Christmas, with her spouse, seven children (one pregnant), five in-laws (one pregnant), and (at the time) nine existing grandchildren... the mall, the day before Christmas, did I mention the twenty-three people in this package?

It finally shook out that a family friend and amateur shutter bug came to their house and snapped a few dozen photos. We actually did buy one of the photos. It's a peaceful little vignette of my in-laws surrounded by their grandchildren. Melissa, the eldest grandchild, looks beautiful, Lillian is asleep, Maddie has a shy smile, and Mitch is peering out of the frame, looking ready to bolt at any moment. Everyone else is screaming and tear-streaked.
My sentiments exactly.

Seeing spots

The day's activities are seriously lacking blog-ability, so I'm taking a 'sick day' to wallow. The weather let up for part of the day, but the cold is returning. The AGA ate eight hundred bucks of propane in a month (yeah, I know, but it's pretty), so we obviously need to schedule the repairman to come down from Michigan to fix the lid over the boiling plate. The impending holiday means baking, so I'm hoping Herr Becher will allow us to turn up the juice on the cooker before my depression sets in.

Some of the new, spring-y spots from Kaffe. It's good to see so much happy on the shelves. Wards off the miserable winter we've been plunged into. Normal blogging to resume tomorrow, once the medication sets in.

Oddments of a day

The never-ending onslaught of snowmen continues:

This paper-mache man is charmingly covered in pages from a dictionary. My inner speed-reader has just realized how fabulous this guy is in the collection. I think I'll call him 'Edward'. *snark* (The fact that I'm cycling through the 'Twilight' books for the fourth time has no one shocked at Becher Haus. I should probably be more concerned for my own mental health, huh?)

This is up here for the perusal of a dear woman to view. It seems that the 'Modern Quilt Wrap' kits are still an item not to be trifled with. If you need one, you know where to reach me. Of course, the photo doesn't do it justice, but that would be 'operator error' on my part and the fading light in the shop tonight as I hurried to get a photo before zooming out the door. I also remembered to snag a pic of the quilt block Jaye sent. It's perfect in it's chaos, and it looks fabulous with the new Kaffe dots. As she's every bit the polka-dot fanatic I am, I know she'll approve of what I'm about to do with this block, but as I can only post three pics at a time from the home computer (sad little air card is taxed to it's limit, poor thing), you'll have to wait a few days to see how it turns out.

The shop was a busy place today, which was a very good thing. I even bid adieu to some fabric end-of-the-bolt bits and was rewarded with more shelf space. I was a little worried, what with the new fabrics trickling in every week, that I'd have to stack them against a wall somewhere. Having all the fabrics on sale for the rest of this week should alleviate even more shelf congestion. Starting in 2009, I won't be at liberty to advertise any newly issued fabrics at less than MSRP, or risk being black-balled from my supplier, though in-store sales are allowed... I just won't be able to tell you about them. Maybe we should have a code word, like 'marshmallow' or 'prudence'. Not that you heard anything from me, mind you.

Finally, with the holidays breathing down our necks like a nervous boy at a high-school dance, lets take a moment to remember a time when we thought it couldn't get any worse, and then it did. You can share any stories you'd like, and it doesn't even have to be about Christmas. Got a good 'Easter when you barfed in church' tale you'd like to tell? Leave a comment over at Miss G's blog about it, since she's going to be incommunicado for awhile, and I don't want her blog to get lonely. Then we'll have a drawing of the unlucky amongst us and I'll send you something pretty for the holidays. Just be sure to pop back here and tell me what your preferences are (knitter/quilter/fav color), so you'll have a fighting chance of being pleasantly surprised for a change. Go to it, kids. Spill.

Hives

I never meant to be a collector. Freezer full of sock yarn? A rational 'safe-storage' plan. Bookcases stacked to groaning with books about quilting/knitting/soap making? Future reference. Giant plastic storage crates of tiny little snowmen? Girl's obviously out of her tree.

This little fuzzy snowdude is a Boyd's. I scored him half-off, at an after Christmas sale in a sleepy little town where most of the commerce that happens is the sale of sixty-nine cent polar pops at the local gas station. It was several years ago, and I was only in the sleepy little town to visit the local quilt shop, which was closed on a Wednesday (?), and having lugged all the Becher children out of the truck, I was damn sure going to buy something, even if it killed me. Five kids in a gift shop... yeah, it nearly did. Five beanie-babies later, I spied this guy in a basket by the register. Score one for the mommy.

Here is a scary, cross-eyed pic of what happens when I love on the cat. Yep. Those would be hives springing up all over my face. (I've since touched up those white roots, too.)

Today's trauma was a trip to the ob/gyn. I accidentally giggle-snorted when the receptionist asked why I had been neglecting my annual exams. Oh, gee, lemme think on this one...

'cuz I don't like flashing my hoo-hoo at tired old men? Does that answer the question? Gah.

On tomorrow's agenda, pics of a bunch of new Kaffe Fassett fabrics what just arrived at the shop, as well as a quilt block from Jaye. It's huge and gorgeous and I'm turning it into a medallion quilt top. I'm mailing you some new dots, Miss Jaye. Fresh off the UPS truck! Be back here tomorrow when I hatch the plan to stuff Gaylen's comment box with snarky holiday fun whilst she is otherwise detained. Maybe we'll have a contest for outrageous holiday-hell stories. What do you think?
Smooches, pooches. C

Blurry Tuesday

Remember 'finger-ma-jigs'? This little dude is one, and he's got two pals hanging out with him. Can you believe non of the Becher children have figured him out yet? Scary, I know.

There appears to be a pattern of neglect in my Monday posting, but as the t.v. season has come to a close, I expect things to improve immeasurably. This also frees up some serious knitting/sewing/reading time, though I don't know what the next 'big thing' on my reading list will be.

These three snow-fellows have been on tree duty for a few years now. I found them loitering at Target and promptly kidnapped them. They always insist on staying in their little crew. Snow gangstas. They are also cleverly concealed bells, and the cat has recently discovered that bumping the tree makes a most delightful racket. Possibly this posse's days are numbered.

I tried, unsuccessfully, to refit the Audi with an ipod adapter today. None available to fit the car. Best Buy rocks. Oops. I just had another sarcasm. The plan is to find one that can be hardwired into where the CD changer fits behind the seat, since it has recently died and gone to audio heaven. Five hundred bucks to replace it... I'm just going to leave it for dead, and hope to find an adapter to have installed soon. Gah.

Tried to sneak out to see 'Twilight' again today, but had no success due to Herr Becher and his monumental guilt trip about getting home to look at my offspring. The exact same ones who ignore me on a daily basis and mumble at me when I ask them direct questions. The same children who can barely be dragged to the table to have dinner with us, and pop out of their seats the minute dinner is over, because they want dibs on the computer/Wii/DS/t.v. Those kids. Due to the nice little ice storm brewing, I drove home at once and no one has noticed I'm here. Dammit anyhow. I could be sitting in a dark and cozy theater watching The Edward right now.

Edited to add: Movie is on. Dragging teen-aged daughter with, because this constitutes 'quality time' to Herr Becher. She's appalled at having to spend time with her mom, but co-operative. I'll get her the big popcorn.

Not sleeping

The second snowman ever to glide into the collection, long before I realized there was an illness associated with the little buggers. This is an old 'Hallmark' ornament from 1997. When I bought him I was just impressed with the clever way he opens at the waist, revealing a super-secret compartment. He's a tiny porcelain box.

One of my secret holiday fantasies is that I'll find a whomping pair of diamond ear studs inside him on Christmas morning. I always check on the sly, in case Herr Becher has a sudden bout of telepathy about gift giving. The kids noticed me peeking two years ago. Last year I found a note, no bigger than a postage stamp, tucked inside, that said 'we love you mom' with all their names and the year. I was crushed that this year it was gone. Someone mentioned in passing that they thought Eli ate it the day we packed up the ornaments. Oh, well...

Last night at the theater, as we prepared ourselves to step into the bracing cold, Melly saw a woman in a hodge-podge scarf and asked what the story was behind it. As knitters, we all know these things do not just happen on their own, right? It turns out a friend of hers lost her son recently, and the swatch scarf was knit to keep hands busy during the initial grieving process.

It makes me ache, but I'm so glad Melly thought to ask about it.

Well, time to chase the kids out of the bathroom and carve out some alone time with my blow-dryer, then it's off to the shop, with a grand total of 3.5 hours of sleep under my belt (and under my eyes). The Xanax seems to be losing it's touch, though I suspect the caffeinated sodas from last night were more to blame. Be well, and stay warm. C

Giving the bird

Today was one of those perfect days that will glow in my memory for quite a while. A day spent hanging out in the shop with muh knittas, the anticipation of the evening out (again, with muh knittas), and a rather fast paced drive home in 'Justice'. Dark evening, curving roads, and a wild-eyed girl (har) getting more and more familiar with the roadster's capabilities. Shoes off definitely helps.

This little snowman is another very recent addition to the menagerie, courtesy of Miss Robin. I can remember this because little dude is holding a bird (albeit a cardinal, but still). He's keeping the shop tree company until Christmas eve, when I saddle him up and haul him home.

Here's the 'Route 66' quilt top from Rachael. I'm putting a border on it and it'll be for the youngest boy in the family we're drowning in quilts this winter. Perfectly wonderful, and many thanks to the big-hearted, beautiful woman who brought it to us (you, me, and the mouse in Clementine's pocket).

Here's the larval-stage quilt for the oldest boy, a young man of sixteen. Homespun plaids and checks, right out of Phyl's stash. Properly aged and waiting to be needed. I can't think of a better use for stashed blocks than the project we are embarking on now. You rock, pretty lady.

Tonight, Melly, No-Amy/Noemi, and I went to see 'Twilight'. Other than the wretched special-effects, the movie was gorgeously crafted. Having read through the book a few times first (ahem), it was hard not to have a critical eye at the way the storyline emerged, but The Edward more than made up for any shortcomings. I didn't even get us kicked out of the theater, but several giggle-snorts were heard amongst the three amigas. Probably muttering 'nom, nom, nom' during the kissing scenes did not aid in keeping the peace, but what can I say? Dude kept missing his chance.
Time to head to bed, as tomorrow is Second Sunday, and thus a 'workday' for our Clementine. Grab your knitting and claim a seat in the knit pit. I'll be there. Latah, crafty chicas. C

twitch

Another day, another snowman.

My camera is waiting to be relieved of it's photos, and I had big plans to show you, tonight, the quilt top Rachael made, and the whopping stack of nine-patch blocks Phyl brought in today (with backing, even. She is so good, that Phyllis.), but for a brain cramp I am suffering with. Today was a headache, and all due to some dumb man I don't even know.
Anyway, this dumb man sees himself as a bit of a practical joker. The office boob, if you will. He is also 'the boss', and possibly feels no compulsion to reign in his unruly side. Now imagine you are a burgeoning sock knitter, and you took your socks to work with you to pass the time as you sat waiting for the phone to ring. You have many inches of 2x2 ribbing finished, on 2mm needles, and you are called away from your desk, just for a moment.

This is where I start to get a little shaky. I need a minute...
(deep cleansing breath in...) so you come back to your desk and find the needles pulled out of your sock. All seventy-two of their ribby little bodies twisting free of the confines of your knitting; the needles lay beside them on the desk.

(and breathe out slowly. And in again...)
What kind of freaking lunatic does that to another human being???

That is so far from funny, it couldn't find funny with a map, a military satellite, and a damn guide dog.
You may have guessed by now that I spent the afternoon performing sock surgery. Not a stitch was lost, though many were mangled and split in our valiant sock knitter's attempt to get them picked up... and she did get them back on needles before she brought it in for help. That she attempted to re-knit them was just a bit more confusing, but in the end, I think it's all fixed. I have to go rock myself in a corner while I chew my hair. Back when the twitching stops. C

Objects in mirror

Quickie 'bonus post' from your's truly, because the day is getting away from me. Quippiness to resume tomorrow (with photos). Here is a new snowman/woman, who I suspect is winking. Stinking cuteness.

Objects of my desire, (and tea)...

"No-Amy"/Noemi just informed me about this, so it'll be playing on a loop in my head through the weekend. Like I needed that. (But, yeah, I did.)

And for My Evil Twin, further proof of our separation at birth... we might both be slightly less than handi-capable at bathroom photography... and yes, I am pretty much all nostrils... and they flare, too.

guest blogger

Because Cami is a lazy ass, by her own admission. So heeeeeeereeeee's melly! with her own, super-cute snowman:

Cami made me swear I wouldn't post a picture of a Santa (which is what I collect). You'll have to surf on over to my blog to see Santa Cuteness (coming soon).
She's ass deep in the fourth Twilight book. Next thing you know, I'll be hooked and she'll be guest posting on my blog!

You want some yarn porn? It's been a while since we saw any knitting on this here knitting blog. I've cast on the Modern Quilt Wrap from Knitting Daily. It is a stunning pattern. Knit in Rowan Kidsilk Haze, or crack as we like to call it. Only this crack you don't say no to:

Don't you just want to rub it on your naughty bits? I remember having a conversation in the shop about what would be the perfect outfit for this wrap. It went something like this:

me: jeans, boots and a t-shirt.
Cami: a nice pantsuit.
Rhonda: naked.
We all agreed with Rhonda. It's that nice.

I think Cami is still willing to put together a kit for this. Give her a ring on the telly. Tell her melly sent you. :)

ETA: Linky fixed. I laughed my ass off! Sorry for the scare, folks. I have not been born again. I was born ok the first time. :)

Two - Two - Two posts in one

Confession time.
I went out to do those all important errands with the children on Sunday afternoon, and promptly fell down the latest literary rabbit hole. Yes, gentle readers, I've fallen under the spell of Edward and Bella, and would be held captive in the pages still, had I not come abruptly to the end of the third book just an hour ago. I don't know what made me pick up the first two volumes, but I found myself standing in Target with both of them clutched in my hands. Something about the crazed look in Noemi's face as she'd been describing the story to me, the hushed tones her voice took on... reverent and incredulous... awestruck. She's not even, by her own admission, much of a reader. I had to see for myself.

Today was reserved for Herr Becher, and after my dentist appointment, he surprised me with a trip to the bookstore to score the other two tomes. Of course, the holiday crush of shoppers had left the store with exactly zero copies of book four, but the third was waiting for me. Once home, and with a fist full of cookies, I kicked off my shoes and crawled into bed. The grey skies and rain outside the window set the perfect backdrop for an afternoon of reading under the covers. Tomorrow I'll start the hunt for the fourth book. In the meantime, here's the belated 'snowman' that I couldn't be bothered to post in a timely fashion (hey, blame Edward, not me):

More function than form, this little half-bucket is perfectly adorable. My plan was always to hide peppermints in it, though I always forget to buy any in time to hide in the tree. This year should be different, since I've now been forced to remember in time. Good plan.
The next one didn't photograph nearly as well as I would have liked, but over the past few years he's become a tad cloudy in his little glass bubble of a snow globe. A good shaking gets the fluff flying, but I can only play with it when the kids aren't looking. I have to set a good example, you know.

And that's all there is to say about the tiny obsessions on the tree for today. Yesterday, though technically a day I'm not in the shop, found me not only at the shop, but solving my own computer glitch. Gasp. It also brought in Rachael's quilt top (done in car/Route 66 fabrics... perfect for a boy!) and even as she was en route to deliver it, braving the icy roads, I was in contact with another blogger about quilty-bits for our donation quilts... all the way from California. Yay. You guys are just amazing. Thank you both. Time to get busy and get them ready for the quilter. We might need to have a bake sale or something to offset the very minimal (thanks to Laura) quilting costs. More to think about. I might even be persuaded to offer up my chocolate croissants for this. But for now, I'm off to enjoy a quiet evening of not reading, but knitting, next to the Herr. Latah, crafty chicas. C

Another snappy scarf

The ready availability of the paper-mache, glitter-coated snowman has made them a prominent feature of the snowman tree. This one may look like the other glitter covered, red scarf wearing snowman of a previous post, but this one is totally different. He's sitting down holding a tiny tree, for one thing. And his hat is bigger. Worlds of difference. There's about a dozen more just like 'em. The vintage look of them is what totally gets me, with the pinked edges of their felt hats, the tiny tags, trees, and/or candies they hold, and all that glitter. Adorable.

Here's a somewhat recent (in the last two weeks, anyway) shot of little man for the "where's Eli crashed out now?" album. I scrolled through a year and a half's worth of photos this morning and it's appalling how many weird shots of Eli we have passed out. On the stairs. On a cardboard shipping crate full of fabric. Propped up in the corner of a chair with his mouth hanging open, looking disturbingly lifeless. Ugh. But I thought I'd share this one for Thimbleanna, who was the first to out him as the narcoleptic toddler he is.

This photo is for Gaylen. I just wanted her to know she's not alone in her war against rodents. See? Even our bluebirds have issues at their house.

Or, rather, they did, until that tree blew over this fall. Herr Becher needs to go choose a new home for them. Bit cold for the out-of-doors today, though. I'm headed to the kitchen for some decaf and a bit of Xanax, and then I'll be enjoying 'pajama day' until noon, when I officially have to pack everyone up and go get some errands done. Greenwood on a Sunday, two weeks from the holidays... shudder. (Just in case you were curious what the meds were for.) C
p.s. for Miss Laurel: go here to the bottom of the post for the molasses cookie recipe. Eat enough of them and they are very likely to kick-start your labor, lil' mama. Be well. *mwah*

Pardon my street light

The tiny burg of Franklin was all lit up for the holidays, as tonight was the "town tree lighting". In Franklin-speak, that's code for "we're gonna throw the switch on all these strung up lights what we got attached to that there court house and all... git 'er done!" Add a swipe of a nose to a sleeve and some fireworks (because what is a town celebration without explosives in twenty-seven degree weather?) and you have something that looks a little like this...

And this. I missed all the really good, big ones because instead of snapping the shutter, I was mistakenly (and sad to say, repeatedly) turning my camera off and on. Duh. But I caught a few, and will forever remember standing in the cold with No-Amy (Noemi) while we watched fireworks, the wind driving snow into our faces.

Aside from the cold and snow of the day, it was altogether a pleasant day at the shop. Miss Deb, Melly, and Noemi all sat and knitted with me, I had some fun people come to shop, and the day was punctuated by lil' friend Susan, coming to visit and sneak in a nap as she played hooky from her cafe.
Today's snowman is new to the collection. Another gift from Gaylen, he's been hanging out on the shop tree, because he really seems to have a thing for the white branches. He's coming home for Christmas, and I'm sure he'll receive a warm welcome from the rest of the gang... well, as warm as any snowman could comfortably bear without risking puddling.

That's all for tonight. I have to go get caught up on my blog reading, and a certain sock is needing attention. I'm just thrilled tomorrow isn't a second Sunday, because I need a pajama day. Bring on the 'weekend'. Woo-hoo. C