"Tomorrow's post"

Here's a color-sampling of the naturally-dyed, organic cotton glut that the shop is drowning in... good colors, but they won't leave... help.

This photo just begged to be let back onto the blog. The perma-cast gray skies actually gave good light for the photo. Now if I could just twitch my nose, nod my head, and magic a tote bag out of the one on the far left. (I told you my 'colors' are off-kilter... )

I have my county assessor's forms to get filled out tonight/tomorrow, which is why there won't be a post for the 31st. Try and have a pleasant day without me. Tuesday is knit-night. I will so need that. More later... C

Das Loot

From Ruhama's, above: "Jitterbug'' from Colinette Yarns. Can't seem to get the darn pic to publish... I'm staring at an ex'ed out little box. It's pretty, though. Very different from my usual palette. This could signal a major personality shift. Need more proof? Check out the new stash of Malabrigo...

Need I say more? Of course, some of the items that jumped into my arms were in my 'comfort colors' of reds, pinks, corals, and (oddly I am just realizing it) yellows and golds. Check out the pretty flower buttons. I bought every one Ruhama's had. Eighteen of them. I have no idea what to do with them, but it's sure fun to dump them out and play with them.

Tommorrow's post will happen later today. I have plans to show you the new "Midwest Modern" fabrics from Amy Butler that now are on display here at the shop. Also, I was apparently drunk or on fire when the Rowan rep "helped" me order the spring yarns, and now I'm finding myself drowning in Purelife organic cotton. If you are nearby, please come grab an armload to take with you, or if you'd like to knit up some bibs... call me. I mean it. There's a ton of this stuff. Latah, knittahs. C

Photo cord rescue

DSCN1806
Originally uploaded by clementinesdrygoods
Passed out boy in a hotel room. I'm only putting this one up for our favorite photog, as she will appreciate the laid-back style which Master Eli now finds so relaxing. No more doorways for him.

Down here you'll find a picture of "Norman". He's the resident "sock knitter" we went to meet up in Wisconsin (at the 'Just 4 Ewe). Those are Jan's hands, but she's more easily recognized by her brightly colored locks of hair. I meant to ask her if the teal fades as quickly as the pink and purple.
(Today was hat day at Clementine's. I really have to get after my white roots tomorrow... or wear the pink hat.)


DSCN1793


Originally uploaded by clementinesdrygoods

DSCN1800
Originally uploaded by



This is the delicious, chunky-monkey nephew who gave me an 'almost' smile as he sat in the hotel room and played. By "played" I mean that we chatted with his parents and he spent some time doing re-con work... where the outlets were, how the plugs were attached to the fridge and air-conditioner, and how best to pull up onto the coffee table to grapple the jelly beans before mom could stop him. He's definately on to this "walking" gig. I expect his parents won't know what hit them. Heh, heh.

The last of the run-down

Blogga-saga, part deux.
The 'in a nutshell' version is that I tortured my husband and five children for the sole purpose of trying to catch a glimpse of my grandmother. In the two days of our "visit" she had not one lucid moment where she recognized me or the kids. She was even heard whispering to the Crazy Aunt "who are those people?" and I heard Crazy Aunt reply "your first grandchild and her babies. All those pretty babies are your great-grandchildren." Yep. 'Boris' hit it on the head when he stated, as we piled into the truck, "your gran is all gone." I believe you are correct, sir.

Other aspects of the trip can't be discussed without my needing anesthesia, so we'll leave it at that for now. I keep thinking of the "I Am" post I want to do, but it would turn out to be a poison-pen letter if I had my go at it today.

In other news, I have in fact lost the camera cord, though it can't have gone far. I suspect the naughty Siamese dragged it about while home alone for those many days. I was stunned to see she hadn't flipped the computer off the desk, actually. Bit of a psycho, that one.

Lastly, today, if you are a fabriholic, please join me in saving Ann. She is hotly in pursuit of the new "Drawing Room" fabrics from Anna Maria Horner, and may in fact explode if she doesn't get her hands on some soon. I need to prioritize a purchase list, as these were all printed on home-dec weight fabric, which doubles my cost. I'd planned on ordering the whole caboodle, but with sales down this season, the knot is tied in the rope and we're hanging on. Also, if anyone has a 'fill-in-the-blanks' business plan I can drag into a bank, e-mail me. There are no brain cells left for another "creative writing assignment"... I've been trying to articulate Clementine's for the web pages Ann is designing. (I lurve her crafty-goodness.)

It's well into the evening now, and I need to chase all the kids through the shower, car-wash style, and then hold Eli till he passes out, then type up said blurbs for web site and get them to Miss Crafty Ann before she tears my ears off. I know I'll be seeing her tomorrow... she just found out all the new Amy Butler fabric has arrived. Type at y'all latah. C

Clean out the camera Thursday

Just before we were to embark on our helluva trip, one of my customers brought me an Easter cake. You can't really tell from the photo, but behind all those Peeps and under the jelly-bird eggs is a massive coconut nest. It was pretty much a diabetic coma just waiting to happen. That's what I love about having a shop... I get to meet lovely people who bring me cake! Yesterday Melly brought me a butter cake. Have you had one of those things? Whoa. Just whoa.

I downloaded the photos from the trip and somehow all my really good baby snaps of the new nephew didn't download, so here is a shot of the Golden Child, that is to say, the brother-brat. He looks more like Owen Wilson from the front, only his nose has been broken just the one time (when he turned to see how close our Corgi, Poochie, was to catching him and turned smack into a tree at age five) and yeah, he has 'butt-chin'. You have no idea how difficult it was to get him to stand still for this shot... he's a regular Barbra Streisand about the 'profile'...

You should've seen his baby pictures. Turrrble cute. And plaid-clad. Gah.

Easter week in review, part one

I got mixed up in shop-stuff today and never did get the photos uploaded; now it's too late in the evening because everyone's clogging up the interwebs, getting their geek on. My poor little air-card can't take it. So, here's your last chance to bail before getting mired in the sad little story of 'Gullible's Travels'. You were warned.

Part One, in which our heroine confronts the possibility that everything she suspected about both yarn shops and "luxury hotels" is fictitious.
D-fly and I went to three yarn shops on the 18th of March. Ruhama's was surprisingly great, given the lack of interest I witnessed there last spring. I got good grope-time with loads of Colinette yarns, bought cute buttons, and made some cool discoveries. They remain one of my all-time fav shops. Koigu lives there, too. Next up, Loop...

Shockingly, the fun little shop on the corner in Bay View was no longer in Bay View, on a corner, or any fun. It has been moved and turned into some perverted gourmet yarn salon, with Ikea'd boxes stuffed with yarn and no chairs anywhere. I do seem to recall a bar stool, but it was behind the cash register counter, with a woman planted on it. The premise of this new location is strategically placed seating in the coffee shop next door. A symbiotic relationship. As all 'salons' are want to do, certain items were 'luxury priced' to make them more tantalizing for the unconscious consumer. I know what certain yarns "go for" and far be it from me to gig another shop for trying to make an extra buck... or six... on yarn that is, admittedly, tough to get enough of. Supply, demand, blah, blah, blah. Once D got me outside I stopped hyperventilating and looked down at my hands. Somehow I'd bought two more balls of that infuriating "Fixation" stretchy yarn. I've already done away with it, and it will never ensnare me again. It was, however, the most reasonably priced yarn in the whole place. Oy.

Then we were off to shop the last, the charming and packed to the rafters cave of fiber-y goodness known as Just 4 Ewe, in Oak Creek. Jan is the ringleader of this riot of color. She owns a circa 1914 sock knitting machine named Norman. It was here that I had to go back the next day, with spouse in tow. Jan gave me a demo and talked about what to look for if I should decide to hunt one down for my very own. I bought more Malabrigo yarn than the day before, picked up a seriously amazing sweater pattern, and had a wonderful time pawing all the rovings and silks for spinning. Across the way from her shop is Kaleidoscope Beads. I had to make two pilgrimages inside there, too. I came out with dichroic glass pendants both times. Lurve them.

After a fairly restful Wednesday, we were again at the mercy of the road on Thursday. Super-smart spouse managed to shave off about two hours of our journey, given that the 'rents live more toward the big lake and less in the middle of a national forest. Not having to traverse Wisconsin caddy-wampus makes a huge diff, as it turns out, and we arrived at the Hotel Chequamegon before nightfall... only to discover... that every single toilet in the entire hotel was routed between our bedroom walls, and that the pool filter gets a bad case of indigestion just after midnight... every night.
We had the "good rooms", the rooms with 14 foot ceilings and eight windows arching out over a view of the frozen lake. Just goes to show how little "luxury" can be had in the frozen north. Also, I would like to add there were no places to have one's eyebrows waxed, and no bars where you couldn't get a pizza or basket of fried fish with your drink. Also, there was a lot of plaid... and ear-flappy hats... and trucks parked on the lake with their drivers hunting fish (who are attracted to the freshly oxygenated water from the holes chipped in the ice and that yummy bait and all) on a sheet of friggen' ice (omigod,omigod,omigod). Do you know what that does to a person with an anxiety disorder? Do you? It seriously compromises her stash of meds, is what it does.

That is all I can type for tonight, as the pressing matter of sleep has to be dealt with. Tomorrow is another day, and all I can hope for is that I get some actual paperwork done. Or laundry. Clean undies might need to become a priority one issue. Latah, knittas.

Escape from Suburbitraz

So, apparently my 'guest blogger' got her hairs cut and colored and then became too cute to do this blog-thing for me whilst I was trapped in a flying Suburban (really, it was probably the xanax, but why ruin the mystique?) with my five off-sprigs and beloved spouse.

The past eight days saw us putting over two thousand miles on our automobile (who just flashed on "Long Duck Dong" from 'Sixteen Candles'? You're old. And so am I.) It wasn't fun, it wasn't pretty, and I know now that it takes more than just a few hundred dollars of yarn to make the car ride bearable. A lot more.

More thing #1.) Getting to meet new nephew was especially nice, as dude has the most enormous fat rolls on his thighs... and his knees... and his wrists. He's adorable, and even seemed to 'get me' when I had to snurffle the back of his head and he let me hold him and everything. For a baby from the Becher gene-pool this is big stuff. They are generally a cantankerous bunch of breastfed momma's baby's. This guy is made of tougher stuff. Could be his daddy's Dutch-ness. Hmmm. Time will tell.

More thing #2.) Jewelry, and lots of it. The champagne-diamond ear studs are mine. I also left with two pendants, enormous amber earrings, and some other ear-blings too varied to mention here. I almost want more pierced parts to display them all at once. Almost. Add to this pile of stash the two dichroic glass pendants I bought myself and the sparkle-haul was substantial.

More thing #3.) Coming home to both a box of "Dream in Color" yarn and an e-mail from the funnest knitting mag ever telling me they got my info and I'll be listed in the summer issue's shop directory, and seven additional IP issues. Swoon.

There are highlights and lowlights (much like Melly's hair) that I'd love to spill about, but for now it's all about my first decent cup of decaf in a week, curling up with 'Boris' on the sofa in front of some netflix, and getting the travel-stink washed out of the clothes. It's good to be back. I missed you. C

Thirsty Thursday

Surrogate blogger melly checking in for Camilla. She called me earlier this evening and told me to work some computer magic and put a 'Cami is here' sort of arrow on this picture. I got 'rotunda' and 'it's ok if you can only find a picture with snow, there's a ton of it here!' Well, if you know me, you know I only half listen to the stuff that spews from her mouth (sorry Cam) but I did get this much - Cami isn't a Hotel 8 sort of gal. Check out her new (albeit temporary) digs:This is the lovely Hotel Chequamegon (you did spell it right, Cami!) overlooking Lake Superior. Which tells me she'll wake to the sounds of seagulls in the morning. At least there is a lounge in the basement with adult type beverages. 'Thirsty Thursday' indeed. I'm thinking they're going to have to drag 'Boris' and Clementine up the stairs to their room after spending nine hours in the Suburban with the whole Becher Brood today. At one point I'm afraid Cami was giving truck driving lessons as the F word came from her lips no less than seven times in under a minute. I told a mutual friend, "I wouldn't even want to pile five kids in the car to go to the grocery store!" How she's doing this whole trek to the top of the country thing is beyond me. And no yarn stores today. Oy.

If you need pictures of knitting, hop over to my place for some lovely magic looping. I've got some serious mad skillz.

Hurry home, Cami! I miss you!

Guest Blogging Day 1

Hi fans, melly here, guest blogging whilst Camilla and the rest of the Becher Brood visit the parental units up north. In spite of all the necessary catching up with the family, she's managed to visit more than a few yarn stores in the less than 36 hours she's been gone. One store was so dang good she had to go back for more - Malabrigo, that is. Her stash has grown exponentially and it's only the first day of her trip. Bill, you're in trouble. You may need to purchase a luggage rack for a few of the chirruns cause you know Cami would never put her yarn up there! She tried to send me a picture of her ever growing stash but doesn't have the necessary whatever it takes on her cell phone. Pictures will have to wait.

I just wanted to let you all know Cami is surviving the trip thus far (remember though, it's the first day!) and plans on surviving another 9 hours in the car with the Becher Brats angels tomorrow as they head ever northward. The Malabrigo should help.

Till next time, melly out.

Beam me up, Scotty

In keeping with Thimbleanna's post titles last week, I thought I'd just throw that one out there. I lost count of how many loads of laundry have been done, but now, at almost 1:30 A.M., I can honestly say I've been licked. I'd throw in the towel, but they're all waiting to go into the dryer.

Yesterday (which seems odd, since I haven't been to bed yet for it to be "tomorrow") Melly and her son, Justin, met me and the brood at the mall for some last-minute panic shopping. I did not get new eyeglass frames, because in addition to no raises, no cost-of-living adjustments, and the huge increase in our insurance premiums, those "one hour" people no longer have the sweet deals for Federal employees. (You can recognize government worker-bees by the careful way they sit.) This means I'll have to (groan) research our "benefits" (har) plan and shop around to avoid getting totally bent over on the frames (sigh). Because I have so much spare time on my hands these days. I think I just pee'd my pants a little with the gales of laughter that just escaped me.

In yesterday's comment's, Jaye mentioned her business partner coming to Indiana over Easter... which makes me want to cry (except the pain meds I took for my laundry-induced back ache are working verrry well) that of all the visitors I've gotten to meet, greet, and show around Clementine's , I have to miss the one I've been waiting for for months. Gah! The new Amy Butler fabrics have started to arrive; twelve bolts "yesterday "(still feels weird... must sleep soon), and twenty-six more will be here any day. The 'martini dots' are fantastic. I certainly hope she enjoys the shop... perhaps she can come the 26th, if she's still around... that's when the shop gets "back to normal".

I just remembered I have to e-mail IK with my fifteen words for my shop-listing. Ye gads, but I'm a forgetful mess. I should have the shop listed in the summer issue (in the back... I can't afford an actual ad yet), but all the lists of words I've strung together seem pretty lame. It's going to end up sounding like a grocery list, only for yarn. Oh, hold on a minute. I just realized knitter's have no problem with that... and how cool if we could buy yarn at the grocer's? I know.

Well, I have to get some real sleep. Even the dog is snoring in her crate. (She sounds like an old man with a deviated septum. Very alluring.) Later today I'll be with D-fly doing a mini yarn crawl. Yay! I'd forgotten there were some pretty fantastic things planned. Tough to remember when tackling a mountain of dirty duds. Look up. Smell roses. Count blessings. Get sleep. Type at y'all when I next get to a computer. *smooches* C

Ode to a suitcase

The bits and bobs of daily life you hold with great finesse,
the pieces of my sanity nestled amongst the underpants.

When uprooting one's life should you envisage,
try to account for all of the baggage.

Should tempers and nostrils begin to flare... well, it just gets more pathetic as the verses go on. There are loads of rhymes for flare, but it's nearly midnight and I'm trying to get a jump on my "pre-posting".

Obviously Sunday's post was created in a state of frustration. Today I'm trying to be an oasis of calm. Hopefully lots of things will get done today. I type "today" as it's almost midnight, the cat is stalking me, and the mister has to be up for work in four hours, so really, the day has started before it's ended. I'd made a solemn promise to go to sleep the same day I woke up, but you can see the flaw in that plan. Timing issues. Waking up the same day you go to sleep isn't quite the same restful plan. Unless you're a Goth Chick who craves deep shadows under her eyes. I have those now, too. The next wave of allergy season is upon us. Soon I'll be drowning in my neti pot. That thing really does work, btw. Plus it has the added cache of totally creeping my kids out. It's the only 'alone time' I get in the bathroom.

Today is the last day home. I have plans to grab lunch out with the kids and one (or two?) of muh knittas, shop for the perfect eyeglass frames (smart, cute, and not too nerdy) and those elusive undergarments for the whole kid-caboodle, and sort out my knitting for the trip. I've started corn socks for one of the grandmas. As she was a farmer's wife, who helped run the shelling business as well for close to fifty years, I expect she'll get a kick out of "Maizy" socks. Type at y'all latah. C

A terrible traveler (some swearing content ahead)

I hate road trips. Nothing about piling five children into the Suburban, driving for literally days on end, staying in less than immaculate accomodations, and subsisting solely on McDonald's appeals to me. (Well, okay, the forced knitting time will be useful. But that's it.) Add in an additional stop, another night in a different town, ten hours round trip from where the journey was to end, and I'm a very cranky Cami. Also, if you are an "inn" in the middle of God's forgotten back pasture, take some decent photos of your rooms, for fucksake. The sorry excuses for "Theme Rooms" are pathetic. I'm going to chance the local Super 8 or whatever passes for travel accomodations in back-asswards Iowa.
This was supposed to be a chance to "show the kids" to their great-grandmas, get a visit in with my cousins and aunt, see the 'rents and siblings, but it's all such a freaking hassle I'm ready to go lay down in front of a train. Husband has thoughtfully suggested just buying packages of t-shirts, socks, and underwear for the chirruns... I just need some air, a light at the end of the tunnel, an easy way out of the packing stress for this family of seven. Oh, right. I forgot. Xanax. And toothbrushes. Whew!
Blogging will be spotty in the upcoming week, though I may grovel successfully enough for Melly to take pity on me and guest-blog. Must go for now, as there is still too much 'activity' awaiting my attention. Latah, knittas. C

Falling off the wagon

Due to technical difficulties, yesterday's post was cancelled. It seems the fan in our home computer kicked into over-drive and I shut it down before anything could melt, or however it is that computers commit hari-kari. I spent the evening getting a sock onto needles, and holding a very big, almost three-year-old boy while we watched Disney's "Cars" for the umpteenth time this week. So, with the home computer on the fritz, I'm left with trying to post from the shop. Not the easiest thing in the world to do, as the children are tag-teaming me. It was bill-paying day (thanks go out to blogless-Rob for mailing them for me) and the kids' can sense my vulnerability. They've made a game out of it, with extra points for the crashes from the back room that make me jump out of my skin.



I have a deep list of Things That must Be Done this evening after leaving here. Getting keys cut, returning a (kinda gross) cookbook that I'd planned on putting in Maddie's Easter bag... she's getting craft books, instead. I don't think spinach-puree brownies are anybody's idea of 'healthy food' at Becher Haus. I know I don't want to eat those kinds of experiments.



UPS Guy just brought the new Opal sock yarns in the 'Rendevous' collection. Yum-o, I tell you. So much fun waiting to happen. And who doesn't love a dude in brown bearing cardboard boxes?

Oh, Happy Day

Thanks for all the well-wishes on my birthday. Tonight I got to go on a date with Herr Becher, courtesy of Melly. She volunteered. I know. And I don't think she was even heavily medicated when she made the offer. Things went well for her and the kids... no fires, broken bones, or temper-tantrums. Things went pretty swell for me and the man, too. A nice, quiet restaurant with a most excellent fillet mignon, and afterwards we went to a bookstore. Alone. I shopped without a two-year-old pulling at my clothes. I browsed without having to urgently find a bathroom for a six-year-old boy. I got to look at books of my own choosing, without having to stop and explain for the eleventh time that we're not buying Pokemon comics today. It was blissful, and I can't thank that tall gal enough for the "time out".

Monday night was "date night", too. RedRhonda and Melly took me out to dinner and a flick. Downtown. I never go there because getting into the parking garage at Circle Center Mall freaks my frack out. All garages do, actually. Odd, since the mister used to work in the parking garage at UWM (Milwaukee, not Madison. Neither of us could drink enough to survive attending UW Madison.) Anyhow, we saw"Juno" and I loved it. The snappy dialogue, the selfless way the situations were handled and the evolution of the characters were all delightful. It comes out on DVD in April. Be sure you get you some.

Something else you need to get is the book "Itty-Bitty Nursery" by Susan B.Anthony Anderson. It is so chock-full of gorgeous baby and toddler knitted toys and gew-gaws I'm amazed I can even lift it. We (sorta) go past Madison next week on our 'world tour 2008'... is there a stalking session in my future? Sadly, there really isn't time, but the author seems like my kind of people. She has four children and still manages not only to be creative, but she's got two published books. There's a cupcake hat, knitted peas and carrots on a grand scale, a knitted tea set... too much yarny goodness to mention here. I love this book. Go buy it. I don't care that you're in your jammies, and neither will the book seller... hurry. Then tell me what you think.

p.s. The injury was that a friend's cat, who has always been anti-social (and therefore fun to antagonize) finally got her digs into my arm. The real problem was she didn't re-open her mouth as she tried to get away after chomping my forearm, leaving me with some deep puncture wounds and 'tissue trauma' (ie: substantial bruising). I don't think Ballou will need a rabies shot, and the tetnus was more because it's been decades since my last one. The Augmentin is also a "better safe than sorry" regime, because cat bites can be super-icky if not treated. All is well here, though, and the tendon will be healed up around the same time the bruising goes away.
p.p.s. Even "injured", I finished the sock and will start pinto-pony the second part tomorrow. Yay, me.

Wasn't exactly a day off...

I had so much running around to do, and a surprise doctor's appointment, complete with grody medicines and a tetnus shot (ick), and knit-night... I'm too tired to type and I just want to go home. Type at y'all latah.

Not done yet

To mom: Here's a preview of your 'pinto pony' sock(s). As it is my birthday today, I suppose I should thank you for the monumental efforts you made to get me here... I know the 'back labour' was extremely uncomfortable, as was the ensuing eighteen years of rearing trauma which we both were forced to endure. I know you love the Golden Child best, but I am still claiming my birthright and first dibs on the contents of your jewelry box... all you get are these crappy socks. Thanks, mom. C

Where'd I leave my tiara?

I was hoping to have a finished sock to photograph, but even after sitting through another one of the spouse's movie picks, I'm still probably three inches away from finished. Perhaps tomorrow. Except I'll be pretty busy turning 38, so you might have to look at an incomplete 'pinto pony' sock, after all.

Things (which I again mis-keyed as "thongs") look a bit different in the shop. Rob brought in some frames and foam board and we stapled stuff to them. I got do all the tacking, and she didn't flinch too much. It's a much-needed dash of color atop the fabric cupboards... if I could just get people to look up. Obviously the subtle approach isn't working. A few (or eleven) more displays are required, to show off the variety of fabrics. I knew the effort was worth it when Deb said "ooh, is this new?" to several of the Amy Butler fabrics. (The new stuff doesn't come in till next month. That 'moving it around' thang works great!) Fabric as art. It looks brilliant, and I'm thankful that Miss Robin is so good at lighting a fire under my butt. Kind of tough to say no when she shows up with all the supplies and all I have to do is climb a ladder.

Okay, even though I am "Queen of all I Survey", the laundry still beckons and the kids are up waaay past their bedtime. They don't know it yet, but I'm dragging them out tomorrow for "breakfast with Mom", and then they get to come home and finish my birthday gift, entitled "clean your rooms if it kills you". I may call and order a cake for Wednesday... got a new lead on a baker in the area. It's cake. Is cake ever truly bad? How bad can it be? Don't answer that. It's not E&L cake... I'm scared. (insert plaintive Southern wail and knuckle-bite) Till tomorrow, poodles. C

The road less traveled

Actually this road sees a lot of action, but this was my view of last night's drive home. You can still make out the center line. This morning it was more trecherous, with last night's blowing and drifting of the snow. Snow. I can't remember the last time there was anything but high winds and knee-deep mud for my birthday (just two days away!). I'm telling myself it's like frosting from heaven, albeit without all the yummy sugar and butter.

Speaking of frosting, here's some Birthday Yarn, courtesy of Mandi (who just got on Ravelry today. Yay, Mandi!) She found this at the fiber fest up in northern Indiana yesterday. I'm looking forward to the one here in Franklin later in the spring. In the meantime, I've got this glorious, somewhat aquatic-looking yarn to fondle. I've already wound it and split it out for socks. Naturally. Gotta go for now. Latah, knittas. C

Knits & Pieces

I braved the sleet to find myself alone. Not a soul has darkened the doorway all day long. It's now almost two-thiry, the snow is still falling, and I've done all my paperwork for the day. Time to play with these blocks. Granted they don't look like much now, but they're embryonic 'pineapple' blocks. Down here you can see them with some random socks/yarn I had to burp from the knitting bag to get to the quilt blocks. I really need to organize that particular black hole.

Down here you'll see the new "Circus" fabric from Felicity Miller. I didn't get the whole collection, and of the six bolts I ordered, only five have arrived. Isn't it so darling and retro? I heart it.

The yellow fabrics are shot through with brighter pink/fushia, where the ivory fabrics are pale pink and orange. The aqua and lime coordinate fabrics are sweet and mix happily with either colorway. Once the micro-dots get here, I plan on making a sample quilt using the Lakehouse green/aqua dots with these newest additions to my weird cloth menagerie.

The good, the bad, and the ennui continues

New babies (Yay, Naomi!!!) needing blankets. Socks on needles, wanting attention. Children slacking on their math studies. Same children building a box-fort and staging all-out territory wars over it... during open hours. It's never a good sign to be reaching for the chill-pills before you've eaten lunch, but that's the way it was today. As much as I dread the long road trip ahead, it's almost a relief to not have to worry (for that one week) that my kids' shinanigans will get me kicked out of my lease. The winter drags on, spirits are sinking, and another storm is predicted for Saturday. I'm stocking up on hot chocolate, sweeties, and freshly washed wool socks, along with all the Mister's favorite mixers. Is it nutty to be praying for a "snow day"? Off to knit while trying to get youngest tyrant to fall asleep. I hope you're all having a more relaxing evening than I am. C

Cheater post (thanks, G!)

Popped over to Gaylen's blog and found this, so naturally I had to have a go for myself. I'd gotten so used to the usual "virgin attendant at a sacrifice" meaning, this little bit of hoo-doo with the letter-play was fun. And a welcome break for y'all, from having to read my regular drivvel.

What Camilla Means

You are very open. You communicate well, and you connect with other people easily. You are a naturally creative person. Ideas just flow from your mind. A true chameleon, you are many things at different points in your life. You are very adaptable. (yes, I like to call them "survival skills") You are usually the best at everything ... you strive for perfection. You are confident, authoritative, and aggressive. (Melly calls it bossy, and she blames 'Boris' entirely) You have the classic "Type A" personality. You are confident, self assured, and capable. You are not easily intimidated. You master any and all skills easily. You don't have to work hard for what you want. You make your life out to be exactly how you want it. And you'll knock down anyone who gets in your way! You tend to be pretty tightly wound. It's easy to get you excited... which can be a good or bad thing. You have a lot of enthusiasm, but it fades rather quickly. You don't stick with any one thing for very long. You have the drive to accomplish a lot in a short amount of time. Your biggest problem is making sure you finish the projects you start. (this bit was pretty spot-on) You are relaxed, chill, and very likely to go with the flow. You are light hearted and accepting. You don't get worked up easily. Well adjusted and incredibly happy, many people wonder what your secret to life is. (Xanax, duh.)

What's Your Name's Hidden Meaning?

Really, if you know me, you know I cannot be both "tightly wound" (which I am) and "relaxed, chill, and go with the flow" (hardly ever, unless there is a food bribe involved), but I am one of those pesky Pisces...

Read an amazing book this evening. As a home school mom, I'm obligated to pre-read the books we push at the children. Tonight's read was "Gathering Blue", by Lois Lowry. Good stuff. I might have to do a 'read-aloud', though I suspect the boys would get fidgety... not enough blood and guts for their taste. The six-year-old dragged home a fine collection of those awful 'Goosebumps' books. At this point I'm willing to let it go, because we just want him interested in the written word. I'm getting him a copy of the 'Dangerous Book for Boys' for the Easter bag. The baskets have been put aside for the year, as this is the first year we'll be on the go for Holy Week. I'm frightened enough at being held captive with five kids for hour after hour , without having to worry about them trashing their Longaberger Easter baskets. (I just did a tally... we're looking at about 32 hours of travel time in the course of the week. The Xanax is already packed.)

Sorry for the cheat post, but I still have laundry chores, and more books to pre-read, if I'm going to keep pace with the eldest larval-stage bookworm. Today was a bit of a booger,and I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep... hopefully with none of today's headache form yesterday's "adjustment". I'm sooo not into getting things cracked. The lower back pain is strangely gone, though. I'm supposed to have another go next week. I may just chicken out, if this head/neck ache persist. Or take to the bottle. (Oh, either. Bourbon, Xanax... it's all good.) Latah, knittas.

Nothing to see here

Attempts were made to show you the terrifically painstaking baby-quilt-top-in-progress, the "petit l'orange" quilt (though if someone wants to e-mail me the French word for duckling, the working title may change)... however... it is late in the afternoon, the light is all wrong for capturing the deep orange and palest duck-egg blue of the fabrics, and the tiny smidges of butter yellow and tomato red just, well, how do you spell ppffft? Add more spitting and that's about what I said. Okay, there were more expletives, but mostly directed at myself for not thinking ahead. I have decided to make one pass around the twelve blocks daily, unless I have to rip out a seam. That's pretty much a free pass to quitsville for me, unless I want to risk having to haul the whole shebang out into the yard and set it on fire. I don't really have the temperment to be a patchworker, but the narcissist in me lives for the oohs and aahs. Isn't that why we do what we do? If no one ever got excited about your craft, would you still do it?
I'd still knit. I'm a glutton for a good many things, but a fine yarn running through my fingers and growing, stitch by stitch, into a Useful Thing is and will always be an enourmous thrill for me. The patchworking, I'm not so sure about. If no one ever took notice, my quilts would probably look like this, and this, just simple makey-dos, without fussiness. Pretty fabrics laying side by side, no Olympic piecing, no agonizing over color theory. Simple quilts and hand knitted socks could keep me occupied forever. My fear is that one day I'll look up and realize I've become a dinosaur, clutching my Rowan magazines the way some sixty and seventy sometings hoarde their 'Workbasket" mags. This is why I've decided to make a concentrated effort to expand my crafty horizons (cr*ch*t and paper-piecing are on the list) to postpone my inspiration's expiration date.
Must be off to knitting soon. Be well. C

The day's loot

DSCN1740
Originally uploaded by clementinesdrygoods

Nothing much to blog about today. I had a handful of coupons for the big box sewing store, so these books came home with us. Apparently Madeleine is taking up cr*ch*t, as she is terribly fond of the amigurumi 'creatures'. I've ordered in a good supply of hooks, in case this is more than a temporary fad. Of course, I thought fun fur scarves couldn't last long, but oh, my how those novice knitters resist moving on to bigger (or, as with socks, smaller) and better things.

DSCN1743
Originally uploaded by clementinesdrygoods

I also laid the quilt blocks out on the bed. I am not impressed with the color play in the "turning twenty" quilt. At this point I could either turn it into a few baby quilts, or forge on, and stitch it together as a full/queen size top to mail to my quilter. Ack. To take the edge off the big quilt dilemma, I've sliced up some of my Lakehouse mini dots and some Amy Butler seed dots and am constructing a baby quilt. The prominent color is pure, unadulterated orange. I'm calling it "petit l'orange" ... the seed dot fabric background is "duck-egg", but "duck l'orange" seemed like a mean name for a baby blanket.
Must go chase the children to their toothbrushes now. Latah, knittas.

You are too kind... all of you.

Thanks for the nice comments on my wordless post. I wasn't being lazier than usual, but yesterday was a busy day, and upon returning home, I slipped into some sort of coma. Tonight is early-to-bed night at Becher Haus, as Herr Becher has to crawl out of his slumber at four in the morning. I know. It sucks to be him. My big plans are to sit in front of the telly, drinking decaf iced tea, watching season one of "Dexter" and waiting for Eli to pass out. I will also be knitting on a sock, most likely. Possibly I will also be designing little lady clothes, as I went to the Matilda Jane trunk show this evening and they have almost nothing in my daughters' sizes. It dries up after a size eight (though they claim to go to ten... ha!), which is Lilly's "now" size. I'm thinking of buying a serger, even though I know zilch about garment constrution. Any helpful advice on makes/models of machine to get are appreciated much. I will botch the whole mission, if left to my own devices, and anything that uses four (or more) spools of thread at a time is, in my opinion, not to be trusted. I'm feeling a little run-on-y tonight.

I'm thinking lately about walking. Just thinking about it (geeze, Melly, stop hyper-ventilating)... like I'd ever exercise on purpose. I did walk over to the toy shop for the 'fashion show', but as it's a total of a block and a half, I didn't think it counted. I couldn't have gotten a better parking space, anyway. Gaylen's post about getting back on the healthy-wagon has me pondering what to do about my post-cesarean belly flop, made worse by having three more kids after the two c-sections, and a healthy appetite for unhealthy food. Gastric by-pass would render me bald with poor skin tone, those alli tablets are singularly unpleasant for innocent by-standers, and that pretty much leaves me with... having to be a grown-up. The kind of person who eats salads for dinner, takes the dog for a drag, and doesn't eat a bag of Reisens while knitting a scarf. I do not currently fit that profile. Just pondering. Not commiting to anything yet, and drastic changes never stick. I'm seeking inner-motivation that will really work. Perhaps an Audi Q7, if I lose the poundage? It makes my heart go pitty-pat. I wanty one sooo bad. Hmmm, I'd have to sell one of the kids to get one... or sell the house... but can you just imagine? I almost wet my pants when I saw it. That's the kind of bribery it takes to motivate me. I think I'll just wear my big-girl panties awhile longer, whilst plotting to commandeer an Audi showroom when (not if) those pretty babies are finally for sale in the U.S. market. Hmmm.

Scarf, finally