let no 'ween go unhallowed

I missed last year's WeHo SnB Halloween extravaganza, but I can surely bear witness to this year's festivities. Good clean fun it was. Low-key and well produced by my buddy Natalie, who really knows how to throw a soiree, it was one of those nights that make me happy to call WeHo SnB home. Those crazy crafty chicas know how to wield so much more than knitting needles and crochet hooks. Take a look:

The Moth and the Fiber Fairy square off.

My crew -- Ellen, Nat, Darcy -- and Angela Davis, er, I mean, me.























Yarn Cowgirl Abby, who whipped up this cute costume at the last minute.




















The Fiber Fairy brings Dolly Darcy to life.















See, crochet tools aren't the only things that hook. Ha ha. (Katherine, please forgive me.)














No Halloween bash would be complete without a costume contest. Here, the Winner's Circle: Kim the Fiber Queen; Frida Kahlo's niece, complete with monkey; and Sara The Moth, who took scariest costume (for obvious reasons). The prize loot featured Nat's fun felted sweater totes.















Darcy, the sassy revolutionary.

Dr. Love is in and she's makin' house calls.































I'll end this post with a pirate and candy corn because, hell, what more can we ask for Halloween?


Unless we ask for these, courtesy of Dr. Love!














For more and better pics, visit Ellen's blog, okay?

yes, I make stuff

I'm sure I'll soon be back to my usual non-crafty posts, but today I'm feeling a return to the roots of this blog is in order. I do, after all, make stuff.

I can't say I've been knitting much stuff. I went and overwhelmed myself with too many projects (last count, 15) and, once again, my fiber love waned. But it didn't really matter, because there's a new boy in town and he's lovin' me up just fine -- sewing. No, you can't do it all the time. People would surely look at me funny if I took my sewing machine to work to get in a little topstitching in between classes. For the times when I need to get my discreet stitch on, all those knitted WIPs still come in handy. For the other times, the times when I'm left in the peace of my own home, or with the comforting camaraderie of my sewing class comrades, I'm all about the machine. Especially now that I've made the wondrous skirtness you see before you.

Unless your first skirt is a total flop, there's no way to get around wearing it until the seams nearly come apart. I've had the decency not to take pictures every day I've worn the skirt (as that would number in the zillions), but here are a few more.



I won't bore with further declarations of sewing love, but I will say that I made it from Vogue 7416. It wasn't that I adored the pattern so much -- I'm still not a fan of the v-shaped waist band -- but, rather, that I was lured by the $5 pattern price. I do like the fabric a lot as any form of denim will do me swell, but, again, ten bucks for two yards didn't hurt. I didn't want to have to resort to eating cat food over a skirt that didn't come out right. Luckily, it did. Luckily, I enjoyed making it. Luckily, I love it.

crow, it's what's for dinner

I could blame my blogging absence on busyness and life stuff, but, really, it's this guy's fault:

Schmin. AKA, The Gloater.

He really thinks he's the shiznit just because he beat his mother in a photo contest.

Isn't he just pathetic?

Well, since you guys took enough pity on me to indulge in my little contest it's only right that I give you the results.

SET 1:

a. Shutterbug - Schmin


b. Shutterbug - me

Yeah. I know I know. A bunch of trees or the whole vast universe? No contest, which the votes revealed. I took a beat down on this one, 7 votes to 1.

SET 2:

a. Shutterbug - Schmin

b. Shutterbug - me

I believe my loss on this set is due to the fact that no one appreciates the magic of black and white photography anymore. Especially when it's flat and dull on a computer monitor. Feh. I figured the Where's Waldo quality of the deer in my photo would dazzle and mesmerize and lead to a win, but no. I went down 6-2 on this one, but at least my good friends V and Nat voted for me!

SET 3:

a. Shutterbug - me

b. Shutterbug - Schmin

This I cannot explain. I'll give Schmin his color photography and close-up deer and captivating water and earth, but 6 - 2 in his favor on this one? I think you guys are just being nice to him.

SET 4:

a. Shutterbug - Schmin

b. Shutterbug - me

Finally! Schmin - 0. La Mama - 8. (But of course when his photo didn't get any votes I thought, Doesn't anyone see the brilliance behind his picture? The movement? The palette? The emotion? ARE PEOPLE BLIND? THIS KID'S A GENIUS!)

SET 5:

a. Shutterbug - Schmin


b. Shutterbug - me

Oh well, at least I had a brief time in the sun. 6 - 2. Schmin's favor.

SET 6:

a. Shutterbug - me

b. Shutterbug - Schmin

Me - 5. Schmin - 3. This is where I thought I smelled a comeback.

SET 7:

a. Shutterbug - Schmin


b. Shutterbug - me

Schmin - 1. Me - 7.

I like rocks. Apparently other people have the good sense to like them too. I studied rocks in college. The course was called geology. It was conducted as a seminar because it was a general education requirement and --

okay I'll stop stalling. Final score -- Schmin - 29. La Mama - 27. BAH!

monkeygurrrrrl, I think you're gonna have to carry the torch. Defeat that lil' MG with gusto!

i am victorious!

For as long as I can remember, me and Schmin have had this competition thing going. Since he's the son and I'm the mother I'm obviously responsible for starting it (he wasn't born trying to arm wrestle me to the ground). My only excuse is that I've always had an inexplicable urge to beat him at stuff. It started with racing when he was, like, four. I'd take it easy on him, only doing short distances -- porch to driveway, parking lot to daycare center -- to let him train. As the years wore on, I'd set bigger and bigger challenges and dust him every time. I reveled in my victories. Anybody who pointed out that beating a five-year-old at rock-throwing didn't really amount to much was accused of being jealous.

But the Universe turns on the motto that payback is a bitch; one day the earth revolved and Schmin started beating me. At, well, everything. That's when I started playing the mom card. You know. The one where I remind him that defeating one's mother and rejoicing over it is both lame and depraved.

Ah, good times.

I can neither defend nor resist the drive to beat Schmin in a public forum. When it comes to the races, I'm an old gray mare ready for pasture as far as Schmin's concerned (I know, I've asked him). But I can still see, which means I can still take me one humdinger of a photograph. And so I am laying down the gauntlet.

Below are pictures taken by Schmin and me on our visit to San Francisco in March. Each of us had a camera, and with every shot much chest-thumping and many declarations of greater skill ensued. I won't say who took what so this can be a clean contest. With your help, dear reader, I can put that Schmin in his place for the love of crazy moms everywhere! Vote in the comments. The loser's buying dinner. I've already got my fork sharpened.

(I should add that each set contains one photo taken by Schmin, and one photo taken by me. So vote for either a or b in each set. To think, I write tests for a living.)

SET 1:

a.

b.
SET 2:

a.
b.
SET 3:

a.
b.
SET 4:

a.
b.
SET 5:

a.
b.

SET 6:

a.

b.

SET 7:

a.
b.
And just 'cause the photographers are so darn cute:

there's one born every minute...

a knitter, that is.

I was only home for three days, but I went prepared, knowing that at some point during the whirlwind visit, I was going to find the time to teach my 13-year-old cousin how to knit.

My father is the oldest of 11 kids, so I have lots of cousins, age 13 and otherwise. Many of them are fair game for knitting, but I chose this particular cousin, S, because she's had to come up in the school of hard knocks. One of our aunts is raising her because her father, my uncle, is in prison and her mother is on a batshit crazy crack pursuit.


In spite of it all, my cousin is a lovely girl. She's smart, matter-of-fact, funny, and self-contained in that way that's necessary when you've faced a lot of uncertainty. Drugs and prison overshadowed my own childhood, so I understand where she's coming from. My aunt worries that S spends too much time alone in her room, but I don't. In high school, I'd spend entire summers holed up like that. I can't say I grew into a social butterfly, but I can hold my own in polite (and impolite) company. S will be fine. I know it.

When you're the kind of girl who likes to engage in a lot of me time, it helps to have yourself a good handcraft. And so I went to Toledo armed with Lion Brand and size 13 needles for S. I gave them to her on Saturday night, while we were hanging out at my sister's graduation party, and taught her what to do. Not that I had to show her much. A few instructions once or twice and she was off.

It wasn't long before she was showing a family friend how to knit. It was very sweet and very fun. After our friend left, S kept working on her scarf until it was time to go home.

The next day was to be my last full day in town and naturally I had a host of plans and committments. I wasn't thinking I'd have to add S's house to the list, but when we met at our grandmother's she mentioned that she'd gotten up that morning and worked on the scarf until it was done. All she needed to know was how to "close" it. And so we drove to her house.

I showed her how to bind off, which she picked up in about two seconds, and voila:

You have to love a girl like this.