Bunnies, Eggs, Children

Have you heard of Operation Bunny Drop? I hadn't. The first and second-graders at Ashwood, including Sylvan, are crafting bunnies for Japanese children through this project. There were several pairs of adult hands to go around and I was invited to take some photos.

The small hands holding needles and thread were precious. The focus and intention. The capability of these young crafters. The emerging personalities of each little rabbit. These gifts coming from one child to another.

"Children, when you are stuffing your bunnies, remember that they are not fat polar bears, just plump little bunnies."

"The stitches may not be perfect, but they were made with love."

"Can you imagine losing all of your toys?"

"I didn't even know I could sew this well!"

(Overheard.)

There were also riddles and jokes that were shared, mostly made-up. "Imagine you're in a golden room. No way out. No windows, no doors. How do you get out?....Stop imagining it!!!!"

There was a wild two year-old rolling a hula hoop around and spinning himself into circles. Did it distract from the sewing? Not too much.

And of course there was Easter and a party with friends, with lots of activity on the driveway for our pavement-deprived children: scootering, pedaling, ball games, chickens wandering about, kids and grown-ups, and once a small fairy girl sitting in the midst of all the chaos using chalk to create a mandala. You know. Just because.

~favorite photo of the day~

Lots of little girls in Easter finery to be seen.

And a really thorough exploration of a flower, by a one year-old, until the stage of complete disintegration.

~favorite photo of the day~

An amazing face painter was on hand who patiently transformed many young faces. Sylvan is ready for the Lion King. Oh darn, he was actually a tiger.

Next up: baseball season...

A Hat for Me and Knitters' Math

You already know about the angst I experienced with the Husband Sweater this year. But you have not been privy to the shorter-lived angst that has been the Wife Hat. He found the pattern on Ravelry (Mini Mochi Fair Isle Hat, knit with Mini Mochi in blue and variegated rainbow); I helped with the color choices, since it's good to know what you're good at, and color choices and naming things are two of my acknowledged strengths in the family.

no dainty sewing scissors for trimming the tails

for THIS knitter

I will tell you that Mr. Crafty was not daunted by the tiny needle size (2-3) or the Fair Isle carrying or the number of stitches required to cover my large head circumference. The stitches are beautifully even on both the front and the backsides.

He only quailed a little when he realized that the original pattern suggested a finishing technique that wasn't what he wanted, but then concurrently understood that if he was not going to pursue that particular finish to the hat, that he would have to take out a couple of inches worth of hard-won knitting. Yes, friends, a couple of INCHES of Fair Isle, two-color knitting on tiny needles, which you cannot just tear out but have to pick out, stitch by bloody stitch, and THEN untangle your two strands of yarn. This is the finish he chose, which is lovely:

At about 200 stitches per round, this was a significant commitment from a knitter whose attitude is usually more towards "living with" mistakes and incorporating them somehow into the design. It takes all kinds of knitters to make this world go round, I say.

And my Mr. Crafty is also a Math-Teacher and has, I think, finally succeeded in explaining the principle of Inverse Proportions to me, as it applies to gauge and needle size and total number of stitches. (This was the one personal obstacle that would prevent me from ever working in a yarn store.)

Here goes: You have 10 stitches per inch on some ridiculously tiny little needles. You have 4 stitches per inch with some thick needles and bulky yarn. Even though your needles are fatter, your yarn is bigger, your fabric is thicker...wait for it...you will have FEWER TOTAL STITCHES for your bulky project.

Taking this principle a little further, and I'm testing myself here, if your hat pattern has you casting on 200 stitches with a suggested gauge of 10 st/in, your total circumference will be 20 stitches. But what if you're getting 8 st/in? (Yes, this is the real question that would have stumped me before.) If you're getting fewer stitches per inch YOUR HAT WILL BE BIGGER than you want it to be. In this case, by a lot: FIVE whole inches! Wow. My huge head is not even that big.

on the April Fools' Day blizzard

we all wrote letters

So, if there are any gauge-doubters out there, I hope this brief entry on applied math will convince you. EZ says "Check your gauge or end in a rage." (I did both on that sweater, as you may recall.)

Mr. Crafty, you've made me a brilliant, gorgeous, rainbow hat that is executed with precision and fits me perfectly. Thank you. (And I hope I never lose it.)

reading reluctance

liquid gold,

our own maple syrup

In my work at the library, I often have the great pleasure of helping people, kids and adults, find things to read. Sometimes successfully, sometimes not. I have one particular customer who is my personal challenge reader because she is difficult to please; I love this and will never give up on finding her a book that she will relish. This is one of the best parts of what I do and I take it very seriously because I know the panic of booklessness, or even potential booklessness. Like the idea of a particular handknit sweater is what makes it itchy, according to my sons. It's a terrible thing to face an empty bedside table and the thought even makes me itchy.

Being a good listener helps. Knowing how to ask the right questions helps. Having a good knowledge of what's in our collection helps. We have tools that help (NoveList, Amazon, etc.). (Readers, check out NoveList through your library---lots of great ways to use this tool, like readalikes, books in a series in order, there is even a K-8 version.)

2nd Sunday: sewing liberation project

Sometimes I also get a trickier question: parents who are looking for books for their kids. It's harder to do my job when the reader is not in front of me, but it's still possible. There's a sense of remove though and no instant feedback.

Then there are parents of reluctant readers. These are worried parents, usually. Sometimes annoyed parents. And what they want is a magic pile of books that will make their kid a reader. (And since I'm no expert on learning disabilities, I'm talking about kids that can actually read without challenges.) Reluctant readers can be boys or girls, but it seems there are more boy reluctants than girls, according to Michael Sullivan. And he has lots of lists of books for boys; interestingly, girl reluctants will likely find books that appeal on these lists, too.

What I have learned the hard way, through lots of questions, is that often these young people actually ARE reading. Just not the way they "should" be, according to their moms (it's usually the moms that I see). "He only reads comics." "She only reads nonfiction." "He never finishes a book." "All he reads is Captain Underpants." "He only likes magazines."

So mostly I reassure them that all of this is actually reading and building important skills like vocabulary, comprehension, retention, etc. A veteran librarian just told me that it's quantity, not quality that makes a reader. I know plenty of adults who only read the newspaper (online). Or adults who are intelligent people who don't read at all (my brother is one). I send the moms home with an armload of books that might appeal to their reluctants and I try to encourage them that keeping a steady supply of books coming is a good thing, or that it's OK that their kids only read comics, or that it's lovely that their child still really prefers being read to.

As long as the reading is fun.

inspiration returns

OK, enough whining. Let's get on with it, despite a new head cold, strep throat, and snow this week. There is so much talent around me, it's staggering.

The mom who, having finally discerned that the reason her daughter hated wearing hats was because of the preferred hairdo of said daughter (2 long ponytails, perched high, then braided), decided to knit a two-ponytail hat. (And it's not underpants, GooneyBird.) Adorable and innovative.

~another friend loves me by mail~

And frankly, there's some real fashion-forward/fashion-freedom happening in the 6th grade, my son's class at school. I love that it seems to stem not from boy-craziness or "I'm so cool," but in a true spirit of Makership and Art.

We have the delightful innovator who has been wearing her family's wool, appliqued Christmas Tree Skirt (you know that skirt that fits round the base of the tree?), every year since first grade as a festive winter assembly skirt. You can imagine that it was ballroom length when this started, and it has slowly gotten shorter as she has lengthened!

I spotted a very sweet Leprechaun hat perched atop her head, just recently in honor of St. Patrick's day. Fashioned out of felt and about the size of a cupcake, it appeared to be fastened to a headband.

In the same 6th grade, there is also E. You must remember her from previous posts. We like to swap things we Make. E. is a sewist, crafter, and Maker of things. She makes bags out of repurposed plastic shopping bags, fused together, then sewn. She might get a whim to make pants one day...and just make them, and wear them the next day to school. Or she creates shorts, using an old tee shirt. A Christmas skirt from some crazy South American woven fabric she found. She totally pulled it off: the sewing and the wearing.

The point is, E. has no fear. She has an idea. She cuts up the fabric and then sews it up. Simple. And OK, so the hems are not usually finished. And sure, the pants ended up with a split seam. Disasters are part of it, part of learning, part of creation. Is this a person who asks herself if she has a knitwear needle? Or who stops in her tracks because the thread isn't an exact match? No fear of failure.

People try their whole lives to unlearn the fear of failure in Making. They spend $100,000 at art school to learn to innovate. Or thousands of dollars in therapy to unlearn that "can't" is a total mind construct. I do hope this gal ends up at art school someday. And someday, she'll finish a hem, I just know it. She recently used a pattern!

remember this sweet new friend?

made for me by E., from a pattern!

You already know Denyse Schmidt, fabric designer, quilt designer, and inspired Maker. She gives workshops ("Improvisational Patchwork"), too---she was even at Alewives. Her quilts and designs have this quality of asymmetry and freedom. Some of the blocks I have seen, like this one, have been tickling the back of my mind. When I got her book though, it was all so measured out and instructions and.... It stopped me. It didn't match the idea I had of what the process and spirit of those quilt blocks were.

This weekend I had the itch of Making. I dumped out all of my scraps and started piles of scrap friends. Pretty soon, I was thinking of Denyse Schmidt and E. My inner rule-follower wanted to call those gals at Alewives right up and ask them for tips. Instead, I pretended I was E. I chose the Scrap Friends pile that excited me most in that moment, cut up a rectangle and found a strip to sew along side it.

The rule-follower said: "Wait! Don't you want to save your longest pieces for the outside of the square??? Be sensible!" No thanks, I want this fabric, and I want it right now.

I measured nothing. I set aside the cutters and the rulers and used scissors. I just had fun playing with fabric and sewing. Following the fabrics and who they wanted to rub shoulders with. At the end of it, I trimmed it down to about a 15" square. Next time, I'll try being even more radical with my cuts and slants.

"Is it a pillow? What's it going to be?" They asked me.

"Don't know. Don't really care. I think it looks pretty good tacked up on my inspiration board for the moment."

::Look at this:: More inspiration from someone who's under 18.

::Reading this:: Because my very liberal liberal arts education denied me the pleasure of reading classics.

::Watching this:: When I was so sick that I couldn't do anything, this was the perfect escape. The costumes! The BBC! Swoonful.

::Listening to:: Manu Chao station on Pandora.

March, I hate you

airing out the quilt after a month of sickness:

the first clothesline photo of the season!

March in Maine is not my favorite. In fact, I consider it the armpit of the year, with very little to recommend it. It can be cruel and demoralizing to live in Maine in March: the warmth and light return, and just when you begin to let yourself hope for spring, you are soundly walloped by a snap of cold or sleety rain. There's a sense of looking over my shoulder nervously, waiting for the smack.

"But what about November?" you ask. Well. November is elegant in its bleakness. The study in grays and blacks and browns feels like a painting. The clouds and sunsets are complex purpley gray worlds. There is the anticipation of snow. November is a class act.

What we have now, March, is pretty ugly. The snow has mostly melted, but there are a few patches left: dirty and mangy and ill-tempered like a dog you'd secretly like to kick, if you weren't an animal-lover. We have mud. Sometimes icy mud. Sticks and rocks all over the lawn. Thawing chicken poop in the yard. We have sodden snowpants and mittens heavy with their wetness and about ten pounds of dirt. Wet, odoriferous boots.

organic oranges. eating sunshine.

We also have illness. Illness which has morphed from and into new and amazing types of germs in our family. No one has vomited, but I think we have run the gamut of most other symptoms from mild to high fevers to pack-a-day coughing fits to strep throat. And lots of other things in between.

Do you have the picture yet?

Here is the one thing March has going for it: maple syrup making time. (Grudgingly offered.)

Thankfully, I do have friends.

The best kind of friends, who see a pair of bright red rubber gloves with little chicken embellishments and think of me. Let me tell you, the package doesn't lie: "Caution: Use of this product has been known to cause laughter. Guaranteed to class up your day." Wearing these gloves could also inspire an outfit-change. Heels might have to be dug out of the far reaches of my closet. And apron will most definitely be worn, and in fact, perhaps I need an apron designed specially to coordinate with these gloves.

And a friend who can't make just one pie. Or leave it undecorated. Beautiful apple pie with whole wheat pastry crust delivered to my door one morning. Really, the best.

We are also blessed by live music in the house. Even when it sometimes feels like just another chore to practice.