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First off – thanks to everyone for putting up with my whining the other day. I had a bit of a bad week and I was feeling pretty down but I’m starting to perk up a bit. I think I need to start a lame Oprah-style gratitude journal to whip my Debbie Downer self into shape.
Chris had a couple of days off sick and was a marvel of domestic production. He cleaned, baked, cooked, hung some pictures and shelves and it helped to boost morale. You can’t keep that boy down.
One evening I had this kind of crazy idea and Chris agreed to try it out. Meaning he agreed to do everything while I offered a critical eye. We had everything we needed on hand making the finished result doubly satisfying.
You see, I hate open concept. I love cozy rooms with built-in book shelves and radiators and window seats and worn wood floors. Pretty much the antithesis of this place. Enter some metal shower hooks, roman blinds from Ikea and Christmas lights.
To my delight and surprise Dwell-reading, Eames-loving Chris is charmed by our light wall.
It’s kicky in the daylight too.
It’s starting to feel more like home.
I’m reading the entire Little House set. I’ve never seen the show or read the books before but I’m enjoying them so far.
In university I read Walden and fell in love with the idea of total self-sufficiency. I love the stick-it-to-the-man feeling I get from darning my handknit socks or making my own bread crumbs. This year I am really hoping to plant a natural vegetable garden and do lots of canning. It bugs me that I don’t have a cow and can’t make my own cheese and butter.
Having said that I’m realizing more and more that I’m probably a city girl at heart. I miss grabbing my laptop and walking across the street for a chai when Chris is working nights and I’m feeling lonely. I miss running into friends on the street. I miss being able to buy lemongrass and corn flour and stilton at the produce store on my block. I miss not having to drive to the post office to get my mail.
Living on a reserve is more of a culture shock than I would have ever thought. Mostly I feel inviscible or totally conspicuous.
I hope I will find a rhythm here sooner rather than later and that the next few years won’t be difficult or just different.
I do know that you are all a great help.
I have a sewing room now but no table to set my machine on. This is a problem.
Yesterday I finally got the motivation to drag everything from the studio down to the dining room in an effort to expand my tired work wardrobe.
This is Simplicity 3678 view B and I love her.
It is so freaking comfortable.
The jersey is from Fabric.com and as soon as I can find some nice matte jersey I plan on making many more. Any leads with that quest?
This will also accompany me to work:
This is the light wheat sandwich bread from Smitten Kitchen. So good. Chris made the sandwich. Quite the team effort.
Isn’t Bowie getting big?
Here he is sitting pretty while I eat hoping for some peanut butter. No dice!
Chris has these terrible gloves that I think he got at Walmart a few years ago. They’ve started to develop some holes and he continued to wear them. I was convinced people in town would see the holes and whisper to each other “but doesn’t his wife knit. She must just not care if he gets frostbitten fingers.”
So, while he was working nights I started making him a new pair for Christmas with scrap yarn.
I got half way through the second mitten and ran out of yarn. I wasn’t that crazy with them to begin with so I thought I’d stick it in Chris’s stocking with an IOU for a full pair, either a continuation of the 3/4 done set or a completely different pair. He surprised me by deciding he wanted mittens. I’ve never seen him wear mittens before and I can probably count on one hand all the mitten patterns for men I’ve seen published. I scoured my vintage pamphlets and books and still came up empty. So, I designed him his very own pair.
Chris picked out the yarn at Ram Wool. It’s Patons Wool Classic in colour 225 and I used almost the entire ball because of his long hands.
This is a pretty standard Celtic braid on a seed stitch background. I did not centre it so well, which seems to be my speciality.
Now back to my hoodie!
I’m fighting a bit of sinus cold so I’m drinking some pomegranate echinacea tea and whining every time I sneeze.
The mug is from Starbucks. Their holiday theme this year seemed to be knitting. When I spotted this in Winnipeg I had to have it. The chair is from Kijiji. I actually haggled for it.
I suppose you want to know about the item in the foreground there. That’s my progress on my Apres Surf (ha!) Hoodie. I’ve converted it to knit in the round but I’m at the neck so I’ll be switching to back and forth and having to purl. I might not have chosen this colour of the Rowan Cashcotton 4 ply but it was something like forty bucks on ebay so I pounced, back when I did such a thing. I’ve put the sweater aside to work on some mittens but I’m hoping to get back to it before I totally forget what I was doing when I put it down.
It’s become a bit of a tradition that I make Chris a new hat each Christmas. Usually it is one that either does not fit or is not his style. His fave is still the hot head hat I made him a month or two after I started knitting. I’ve been determined to overshadow that wonky hat with it’s terrible seam. This year I decided to modify Tiennie’s handsome Norwegian Earflap Hat into a double layer beanie, totally inspired by Knitting Elephant’s version.
When I first cast off it was very much like a bucket hat. It was rather fetching on me but I knew it would look pretty stupid on him. I cut the joining round and ripped back a few rows and worked them with a smaller needle.
I don’t know why I never thought to make him a double layer hat before. This is the guy who wears a toque til the end of May.
He is stern when he wears the navy.
With all the walking and photographing yesterday I completely forgot about this:
This, my friends, has been sitting in my underwear drawer for ten years and through six moves. It is a letter I wrote to myself at a retreat in my last year (grade 13 when there was such a thing) of high school. It is not as painfully earnest as I had thought.
I don’t ever remember wanting to be a DJ and it kills me that I called it “on air radio personality”. I guess I wasn’t thinking in realistic terms or I wouldn’t have projected myself as an actress, married to a celebrity, living in New York. Too funny.