Who, me?

Who, me? Late to a trend?

The owl thing has been popular for a while now.  For so long, in fact, that now I've finally given in and made some owls, it will probably end tomorrow.  

Good thing there are buyers out there who are bound to be as behind the times as I am.

Owl fronts.

I made my first three owls back in December.  They were just an idea whose time had apparently come.  I worked out a paper pattern that I liked, its dimensions driven by the size and shape of the sweater scraps I had left on hand after a long season of mitten-making.

The contrast wings are my favorite, because I have even tinier scraps left over from projects long past that I just couldn't bear to throw out, and they're just the size for the wings.

The owl in the top photo with the reddish body and the green, brown and gold wings is a case in point.  His body was a recent sweater, but those wings came from the very first sweater I cut up to use for mittens -- in fact, the prototype pair that I'm still wearing three winters later.

I wasn't sure about those prototype owls, but I took them along to an outdoor Christmas market, and they sold.  Quickly.

Wings and bodies. 

So I knew I'd have to make more, I just didn't get around to it right away.  But they were on the list.

The list.  Ah, yes, the list.  There's a whiteboard in my front room where the inventory lives, with my goal for number of items I need prior to show season and my current stock number.  For a long time, the owl goal was 30, and the stock number was 0.

After the other week's little owl binge, we're now halfway there with 15 owls.

One improvement I made over the prototype owls -- they had eyes made from white sweater scraps, but it's very hard to cut sweater into precise circles.  I found some 3/4" white felt circles for a good price, and bought a big bag.  Also, the old owls had eyelashes, which I thought were okay, but this time around, I decided to give them eyelids.

Original Xmas-time prototypes

I think the eyelids give them more attitude, especially when they go on a bit crooked.  A Facebook friend commented that she particularly liked the one giving her side-eye.

So these will be a new thing for spring shows,which are fast approaching.

I'm finding I missed it more than expected, though at least teaching has kept me interacting with people and not in my usual wintertime hermit crab shell, having to remember how to smile and be pleasant all over again, every April.

Happy spring, everyone!

Photogenic

Just like people, some cats are just more photogenic.  Annie was sitting on the bed yesterday morning, hallucinating (she does that), and she looked so amazing in that puddle of sunlight that I had to reach over and grab my phone, even before I thought about coffee.

For those that wonder, Annie is doing well since her surgery.  Her hair has grown back and -- so far -- nothing else has grown back.  She gets manhandled and felt up on a regular basis, which offends her kitty dignity, but so far, so good.

There is some sewing going on, but yesterday was my last sewing class for the winter semester.  I have next week off and then the spring semester starts.  And I need to figure out what to do with the kids all over again.

Alarm clock

Difficult to see, but the geese are there

I woke up before the alarm this morning. I didn't know why; usually if I wake up that early it's a car alarm or some other street noise, but the street was quiet. I rolled toward the open window and listened. Then I heard it again, and got out of bed. There they were. A straggling line of geese, barely visible against the sky.  Heading vaguely north, they honked more insistently than any car alarm.

I couldn't go back to sleep after that. The sound of geese is right up there with my other favorite noises:  train whistles (preferably at night), seagulls, and church bells. I know, it's a little clichéd, but there you have it.

I went downstairs, got the table out of the cellar and put it back on the porch. By the time Mario was up, the coffee was done and I was sitting on the porch with a mug. It's spring. The porch is back.

An extra gift: less than an hour later, another flock went over, this time a perfect V.

Month-End Review: February

Rumor has it that spring is just around the corner.

So says this guy.

It snowed this morning, so what does he know?

February was a slower month than last January.  It always is.  It feels like the winter doldrums just sink into your bones and make productivity nearly impossible.

Which is not to say things didn't get done, they just didn't get done on the scale they did the month prior.

Add to that three days of temping in my friend's office (without adequate warning to have lots of handwork to take with me for lunchtime stitching) and I really dropped the ball.

Totals:  20 medium size animals, 10 toddler dresses, 24 microwave bowls, 2 teddy bears and 4 more of the new product (reveal soon, I promise).  Not bad, not spectacular.

On a more pleasant note, scheduling has started for spring craft shows, so that, much more than Mr. Robin here, lets me know that spring is, indeed, on the way.

Beautiful Girls

A long, long time ago, I made clothes for these girls.

It seems like ages ago, and it probably was about 20 years, now that I think about it.  The dolls are all older, pre-WWI German bisque for the most part.  One I had from the family, and others I've accumulated over the years.  All of them, with the exception of one (the flowered dress right of center), came to me either with no clothing at all, or with her original garments in such tatters they couldn't even be used to make a pattern for new ones.

I do remember that this was done pre-Internet, because I spent some happy hours in libraries and bookstores, researching this type of doll, what they would have worn and what children of the era would have worn as well.  There are still a few books on my shelves from this period that I just can't bear to give away.

Each of these outfits was made by hand.  In saying by hand, I'm not just saying by me, but really "by hand," not by machine.  I tried using the machine, and while it was okay for some of the heavier fabrics, like the green striped cotton, it just chewed up the cotton lawn and China silks that I used most of the time, and I wasn't putting 100 year old vintage lace anywhere near the machine.

The hats are mine, too, made of bits of buckram and milliner's wire, covered in layers of gathered silk.

Several of the girls are re-wigged (the blonde with the long curls being the most obvious example), but other than that I've left their physical flaws alone.  Several are missing some fingers and a few are wobbly in the joints, but their stands hold them up, at least until I can get around to restringing them.

The girls are displayed on the top of the fabric shelves in my workroom.  They keep a watchful eye on my work, and occasionally, I think, a judgmental one.  If I ever look up and see them holding score cards -- 5.8, 5.8, 6.0, 5.6 -- they're moving to another room.

And yes, my entire workroom is painted that obnoxious shade of grass green.  I love it.

A visit to the coop

A few people have asked me how Bonnie is faring during the winter.

Most of the time, the cold doesn't bother her in the slightest.  It really is easier to keep a chicken alive in winter than in summer, where they can die of heat very easily -- that's how I lost Gilda, Bonnie's original coopmate.

Since Bonnie prefers not to be a flock animal, keeping her warm is a little more complicated.  She has her coop, with a smallish attached run, and a roost/nest box area upstairs in the coop.  The upstairs portion is fully enclosed except for a door.

Until the weather hits the 30s, I leave things alone, other than adding a light in the downstairs portion of the coop.  This is more to give her some artificial light to persuade her to lay more frequently than to actually provide warmth.

When temps really dip, I break out a tarp for the roof, and pull out a folding plexiglas window to block the wind.  This is normally the top of my cold frame, but it works well for Bonnie because it blocks air while still letting in light.  Up until last year I used two old wooden-framed storm windows that I trashpicked, but those either blew over or were flipped by some of the local wildlife, so now I use plastic.  It's what's available.

Two weeks ago, we had a cold spell and some snow, and I noticed that the window ended right at the corner, where her water is located.  Not wanting her water to freeze or too much snow to blow in there, I recycled a pizza box, fitting it behind the window and under the roof ledge.  It seemed to work; she's been relatively draft-free and as happy as an unpleasant bird can be.

Yesterday we were out from 8:00 a.m. until after 4:00 p.m. for a family funeral in NJ.  I knew the water would be frozen when we got home.  Since it was getting dark, I wasn't so concerned about replacing it then, because she'd already gone to roost.  But later, I looked out the back door and saw that the coop was dark.  I went out to look further, and the window had blown free, the pizza box was on the back fence and the bulb had burned out.  Damn.

I told Mario there was a very good chance we had a chicken-sicle out there, but there wasn't much I could do in 10 degree dark other than to replace the wind barriers. Today, I got up early and went out to check on her, and when I pulled the window aside, I heard the faint clucks of a very annoyed bird.  I gave her fresh water and some canned cat food with corn sprinkled on it (her favorite, and a nice boost of protein for cold weather), and went back in until it was light enough to work.

Later I replaced her light, gave her more straw, fresh water and more food, and saw that while she was awaiting maid service, she'd attempted to eat an egg she'd laid in the nest box.  This didn't work out well, because as soon as she cracked the shell, the egg started to freeze solid.  Hopefully what she pecked at so little resembled an egg that she won't remember it later and start eating her own eggs; that would be a direct route to the crockpot, and I haven't kept her alive through the winter to turn her into coq au vin when spring is nearly in sight.

Hibernation

Hibernating "ski sweater" bear.  If I hadn't cut it up,
I would totally wear this.

The last week or so, I've had a problem.  I usually get up around 6:30 - 7:00 a.m., depending on how cold it is (need to make sure that the chicken's water isn't frozen).  Then I make coffee for us, have a cup with Mario before he leaves for work and usually - though  not lately - I have a second cup and get into my day.

But lately, I've been going back to bed.  Or, to be more accurate, I've been going to couch.  Lately, when I wake up, my low back is stiff, and my solution is to flop on the couch with the heating pad until it "loosens up."  By which point I'm out cold again with a cat or two on my chest.  When I wake up, the only thing that's tight is my head, all wound up because I've lost an hour or two of my usually productive morning.

Now I don't generally do creative stuff in the a.m., that's beyond the scope of how my brain works.  But the household stuff - throwing in laundry, doing the dishes, vacuuming - that gets done then.  Also the computer stuff that has to be done for the Etsy shops, which is always more than expected, and includes Facebook marketing, dropping in on a couple of sellers' groups to see what's going on, reading the latest entrepreneurial article and questioning everything . . . that also gets done before noon.

So while I'm still getting stuff made in the afternoons, the housework has gone to crap and I'm way behind on virtual "paperwork."

Bleh.  I think it just needs to warm up and get a little sunnier.  Even if things are a bit creaky in the a.m., if I wake up and see sun, I'm much more likely to stay up and function.  Going outside in weather freezing or below to feed and water an ungrateful bird is enough to send me back to my warm covers anyway.

This morning I stretched for a while after getting up, and I've managed to stay vertical (and at my desk with the heating pad on my chair).  Any other suggestions on how to deal with the winter blahs would be most welcome, though.