68

That's how many days we've had 100+ temps here. Today's going to be the 69th, tying us with the previous record of oh god I don't care about historical tidbits. I don't care how many records we're breaking and while I do care about climate change intellectually, right now all I can think about is the minor miracle that is lying on the tile floor in my drawers.

Seriously, this floor was the best decision we ever could have made.

I've actually hit the point where I'm happy about hurricane season. Which makes me feel like a terrible person because hurricanes aren't exactly a good time, but if a hurricane is what breaks this heat wave I'm seriously considering getting its name tattooed on my butt.

As a result of living on the surface of Mercury, I've given up on dressing myself. Being a hermit has the advantage of allowing me to lie on the floor in my underpants most of the time but I do still occasionally have to leave the house. While I'm sure most of us would prefer to go out as close to nekkid as possible (shoes would be the obvious requirement) it's still one of those frowned upon behaviors.

I hit upon a solution pretty early on in this summer of death - cotton dresses. The breezier the better. I had to expend just enough effort to pull something overly head, it was as cool as I could get and I would look like I still kind of tried.

Unfortunately, pretty much every single store I tried had other ideas. Oh, there were so called summer sun dresses a plenty, but every damn one of them had some sort of polyester lining. And it seemed the cuter the dress the cheaper and nastier feeling the lining.

I gave in and bought one that had said polyester lining and felt like I was walking around wrapped in a garbage bag. At least I was going to a movie where the air conditioner was guaranteed to be set to morgue.

I briefly gave up my quest for perfect cotton sacks and set to suffer through doing laundry every day so that I could recycle my limited ohgodhot wardrobe as much as possible.

Then it dawned on me. I ostensibly knew how to use a sewing machine and I still had a drawer full of patterns bought throughout the years every time I decided no really, this time I'm making myself some cute clothes.

So I shamelessly stole Maters machine after she kindly gave me a box full of fabric from a friend cleaning out her stash and attempted this sewing business.

Figuring I needed to get my sewing legs back under me, since I hadn't touched the machine since making last year's Halloween costume I went with the tried and true project of sew some rectangles together, pop in an elastic and voila skirt!

And while it did take me 45 minutes just to thread the damn machine I did end up with a skirt. So, yay.



Cotton sacks here I come!

Found a simple shift dress pattern went to town and produced a dress from start to finish that, while not exactly the best example of a dress, is comfortable and breathable and I made it my damn self.



I figure that as long as I'm ok with the wonky seams here and one strap being wider than the other, I might as well make a more complicated imperfect dress.

So I can learn things. Or something.



Hopefully I can continue to increase my collection of cotton sacks and continue to avoid being arrested for public nekkidness until fall gets here. Which it had damn well better soon.

I Have Made a Thing

And it is thing like.

You may remember the iPad slipcover I attempted to make that was an absolute failure. Well, I picked it apart a bit and then put it back together in a way that would be vaguely purse like as a birthday present for a friend.

And I just don't know. It is a bag and it will hold things but as a purse it is distinctly lacking. If I had been cleverer and less lazy (a combination I'm always striving for with varied success) I would have picked it apart all the way and redone things so that I could at least box the bottom if not go all the way and put in a proper gusset, maybe get really fancy and put a pocket in it.

But I did not do those things and now it doesn't know what to be. If it was a little smaller then it would work nicely as a little clutch that would hold your ID, your phone and some money for a wild and crazy time at the bars and if it was a little larger and had some structure it would be a good everyday purse (assuming that your everyday purse is not like my purse, that is, the wild offspring of the concept 'always be prepared' and extreme packratism.)

At any rate, here it is, in all its confused object glory:


I stuffed a doo-rag in there to give it shape. My photography skills are to be envied, clearly.
If it wasn't meant for a gift I wouldn't be too concerned. I mean, what do I care if I have a purse that is a little less than useful? Not much, I assure you. But as I am seeing her tonight and she doesn't live in town so I hardly have a lot of opportunities for gift giving this is probably the best bet of actually giving her a gift in a remotely timely way.

I don't even think it can be saved by putting on a heap of pin back buttons like the last bag I gave her that was less than ideal.

Well. There's nothing for it - I'll just give the possibly useless bag and I don't know, see if I can't whip something else up before six tonight.

Oh Dear

The holiday season was much crazier than I anticipated.  It ended up being an almost entirely hand made Christmas on my end, which ate way more of my time than I thought it would.  Thus, I fell out of the blogging habit.  So, not dead, just forgot how to internet.

But, new year, new start, or something.  Yay?

First things first:  Christmas card swap.  Here's my totally awesome card that I really should have posted about as soon as I received it from Sarah.  Thank you so much!

Front!

Inside!

And then on the back she included the first verse of a German carol along with the translation.  Again: totally awesome.

Here's a few of the things that have been keeping me busy.  Not all, because I'm relying on the cell phone for photos at the moment.

Here's the tote bag I sort of made for the Boyfriend's mother.  I say sort of made because I cut out the pieces, got grumpy, toodled off to raid my parents' kitchen (which was as delicious and de-grumpifying as always) and when I'd stuffed myself stupid returned to the dining room to find my mom had pretty much made it.  So, 'sort of' is a bit of a stretch - it'd be more accurate to say I had an idea and then didn't end up having to do any of the work myself.  Except the running upstairs to do the ironing which I don't think really counts at all.  Thanks Mater, you're the best!

I also decorated a friend's school bag.  Which was one of those things where I could see what I wanted in my head but had difficulty actually making it happen.  This isn't the completed bag, but an in progress photo.  The finished bag had some rather blobby starfish-like flowers because the white paint pen kept not working, then changing it's mind and exploding.  We covered them up with some cute little buttons though, so I don't think she was too disappointed.

But the majority of the winter time crafting was spent on hats.  So many hats.  I don't know if I'm going to be able to even think about making another hat for a while.  I think the total count was nine, eight to be given away and then one for me, because I decided that I needed a hat too, to prevent me from stealing the ones meant for gifts.  I'm a little overdue for a hair cut and frankly slapping a hat on is way easier than spending several hours trying to convince my hair to stop acting like a Rorschach blob.

I would like to say that I made Mater's gift all by myself.  She never once saved me from my own ineptitude, yay!  Though she did seem pretty amused about the fact that the internet would know Mater's face since I had to show it off.  Pattern is Atarimae Beret (Ravelry link).

And here's the hat I made for Pater, since he was coveting my chullo.  Not pictured is the long bow that Mater gave him for Christmas, which if I had been thinking would've been the greatest illustration of our usual Christmas time ever.

There were more hats, obviously, but I don't currently have pictures of them.  But I will bother the recipients to let me take photos of them for great justice the blog.

There.  That's me back from the dead.  Maybe this is the year I can learn to stop being quite so useless about self imposed commitments.  Probably not though.

Klingons and Kittens.

I'll actually brush my hair on the day.

 Finally finished the costume.  I seriously think it was cursed.  I present the evidence bullet point style (never mind that the so called evidence is really just me not being very good at this sewing business):

• Massive failure at reading directions had me not placing a piece on the center fold that really needed to be there.
• Of course the fabric shop had only just enough yardage of the original material for the pattern, so emergency trip back to pick out a new one fabric and buy plenty.
• Actually get to turn on sewing machine go to start and I manage to epically botch up first bust dart.  Stitching refuses to be picked out.  Try for a while, Mater tries for a while then informs me that she's only succeeded in making a hole.
• Mater entirely takes it over at this point and when I came back the next evening she presents me with a mostly constructed dress.
• That, despite my measurements firmly placing me in a size 14, is decidedly sack-like.
• Mater takes it in an ungodly amount.

At that point, while I know more things went wrong-ish someone who actually knew what they were doing was now totally in control.  Which is why I have a costume at all.  I went and bought a huge red t-shirt with the idea that if I couldn't get it together and make the dress I could do a little t-shirt surgery and have a (ridiculously short) back up costume. 

I think when Mater saw what I had in mind she decided that she had to do everything in her power to save my dignity.

She insists that she was enjoying herself and that it really was no problem that, despite how gung ho I was about making the dress myself, she was in fact doing it for me.  No one was exactly shocked that once again Mater came to my rescue when my ineptitude got the better of me but this time I honestly did try.

Here's what I managed to do all by myself:

Oh yeah.

 Yes, I successfully cut out a bit of felt and glued on some glitter.  It's like I'm some sort of wizard, I know.

And now the question is, what shoes do I wear?  I have two options: flat leather boots courtesy of Kate, or traditional go-go boots inherited from a drag queen after her last performance of Proud Mary.  I think the flats look better, but they've not got a lot of traction and what if I have to run away from unfriendly aliens?  Or, more accurately, disgruntled comic shop staff trying to get me to stop drooling on the Absolute Sandman display case.

Oh did I not mention?  The party I'm going to, it's at my local comic shop.  And is a midnight write-in for NaNoWriMo.

Yeah.

At any rate, shoes.  Option one:

After years of wearing heels flats feel unnatural.

Option two:

Go-Go-tastic

And now, kittens.  This is Charlie, the tiniest, loudest, most pathetic of kittens.  I kind of love him, even if he won't shut up ever.  And is in the middle of the gross kitten phase, where he makes an absolute mess of himself eating but doesn't know how to bathe himself yet.

Food-y Face!

He's really needy, so we see this a lot.  He's seriously undersized for his age so he sort of has this little big head thing going on and his face is all ears and eyes.  I think he's the best.

In other kitten news, Penny and Bianca are still hanging around.  Really hope they get adopted soon, because the older they get the less interest they'll have.  Which is sad because they are some of the sweetest, most loving kittens we've had.

Snuggling at the adoption event.

I mean, look at them.  How could someone not want to take one of these ladies home?  Bah.  I'm surprised they're still with us, their brother went the same week he was up for adoption.  Hopefully the adoption event tomorrow will go better than they have been.  Why does no one love kittens this month?

Getting WIPed*

I have a tendency to obsessively throw myself into a new interest- living, eating and breathing whatever has currently caught my attention.  Sometimes the interest lasts (like pen and ink drawing, knitting, politics and activism, baking) but usually I'm quickly bored and forget that I was so desperate to learn everything I could and spend all of my time with whatever it was that intrigued me.  Like scrap booking, bead loom bracelets, watercolor, Russian, swing dancing, linoleum print making, embroidery, nearly every thing I studied in college, college in general, now that I think of it.... All of these were abandoned, and I have the half finished projects to prove it.

I mention this because I think my histamine response is the same way.  While the ragweed pollen is still in the air, my allergies seem to have petered out.  After the initial punch in the face, my immune system has decided it's bored now and is letting me live my life like a normal person again.  So, hurrah.

As a result my brain seems to have come back (not being totally zonked out on Benadryl probably helps) and I have an attention span again.  Which means I've actually been able to do something more productive with my time than watching Law and Order reruns and folding Kleenex into decorative shapes before stuffing it up my nose.

I've spent the last couple of evenings at my parents' to use Mater's sewing machine and have her hand hold me through my first ever pattern.  It was initially supposed to be for the epic Halloween costume of nerdiness, but after cutting out the pattern pieces Mater announced that it's construction would look stupid in the fabric we picked out.  We decided to give it a test run just in case, and rather than use plain muslin we raided her stash and picked out something that had enough yardage.  Which is how I came to be making the most hilarious dress ever.

Actual pattern pieces!  Also, I hate pinning.

Pinning can go right to hell if you ask me.  I understand the necessity, but my fingers definitely spent a good amount of time being quite hurty.  Maybe if I was a little less useless at doing it I wouldn't hate it so much, but here we are.  Also, ow.

Here's the half finished dress:

I'm holding the dress up, not doing the chicken dance, promise.

I know, the '80s have thrown up all over me.  It's awesome.  And it's vintage, which proves that I can't hop on board with the current resurgence of '80s fashion even if I wanted to because I was there the first time.  I'm just a little sad that I don't think I can ever really wear this because it is so outside my comfort zone even though the dress itself would be quite flattering.  But happily, we found another heap of fabric in Mater's stash that is within my comfort zone, so I'll be returning to this pattern and making a dress that I'll wear more than once.

Since Halloween is fast approaching the '80s dress of fluorescence is being put on hold so that I can actually have something to wear.  Went and bought a new pattern today and rather than actually work on it I ate my weight in pizza, watched Univision's coverage of the Chilean miners' rescue and played with my niece.  After several hours at my parents' I have this to show for myself:

I am a paper cutting champion.

I've also been working on a sweater for myself.

It's very pink.  I may dye it.  Because color freaks me right out.

Even though I have a veritable heap of things to be done for holiday gifts.  Progress is slow because of both the kittens refusing to not try and kill my wiggling needles and yarn and surprise moth damage necessitating me splicing every other row or so.

Yes, moths.  The majority of my yarn stash is in zipped plastic bags, so I'm not terribly concerned, but I have a large box of wool that was given to me by a friend that is unprotected.  The yarn I'm currently using came from that box, so I just know that there's an even larger tragedy lurking in it's depths.

I have a hard time being too concerned about not finishing knits for other people because, if I continue with my usual habit, I'll think it's too boring to look at in a few days and leave it abandoned for at least a few months.  Wait, this sounds familiar....

*Title courtesy of the Boyfriend.  Because, hee.

Needle and Thread

Like crochet, sewing is a skill that I had plenty of opportunities to learn at my mother's knee but didn't.  Unlike crochet, I can't say that I've ever given it a good honest try because I'm deathly afraid of the sewing machine.

I know.  No, really, I know.  Sewing machines are pretty high up on the list of 'stupid things to be afraid of,' but I manage it anyway.

I can manage hand sewing, which is good because I can at least repair a fallen hem or replace a button.  I've managed to sew my sleeve to whatever project I'm working on while sewing by hand, through the magic combination of my pathological clumsiness and total lack of attention, so who knows what I would do to myself with a machine.

Now, you would think that because I refuse to use a sewing machine that I wouldn't do things like make my own clothes.  You'd be wrong.  Design wise, they're incredibly simple, because again: sewing by hand.  So, despite the several skirts and pajama pants I've made I've never actually used a real pattern.

That's not to say that I don't have a collection of patterns.  I do.  Every so often I convince myself that I will learn to use the machine, I won't end up with twenty pins in my fingers and a broken needle fragment in my eye and so go out and buy a couple of patterns that promise to be simple beginner projects.  They're currently languishing in a box in the spare bedroom, held onto because, hey, that dress may eventually come back into style and then I'll want to make it again.

This year I decided that I needed some new light weight summer skirts in my life.  And why would I buy skirts when I could make my own and be sure they fit correctly- meaning I'm short and store-bought knee length skirts cheerily wave goodbye to my knees as they find the most unflattering place they can mid-calf.

Enter the tube:

Tube-y!

This is the typical skirt 'design' I use whenever the sewing bug bites.  And I wear it a few times before deciding that really, with hips as wide as mine I really ought to look into some sort of shaping.

Enter the gore:

Citrus-y!

I had, if real designers will forgive me co-opting this term, drafted a pattern, ironed it and pinned everything together before falling into a 'there is no way I can ever finish this before summer is over' funk.  My mom came over, I proudly showed off the cute fabric and my so-called design skills and then told her about my intense lack of motivation.  She very kindly told me to stop being such an idiot and to just bring it over to her house over the weekend and we would work through my sewing machine phobia.

And it worked.  To a degree.  I have a skirt that suffers from some 'so you tried to design this yourself' problems but it fits and I put it together myself.  Mostly.  When I was intimidated by having to sew something other than a straight line (as I wasn't very good at even that), Mater was good enough to take over.  She also put in the zip and buttonhole because I was absolutely petrified I'd ruin it forever if I had to deal with closures.

The next time I went over for a sewing lesson we picked out something more my speed: kitten beds.  Over a couple of hours I managed to produce a decent pile of them despite my inability to cut a straight line and I almost always remembered to put the foot down.

Blankies!

Next up?  Using a real pattern.  On the one hand: exciting.  On the other: terrifying.  Here's hoping I manage to produce a proper pair of pants.