Category: Crochet

Before I just launch into another strange and perhaps absurd story, I’d like to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for commenting / emailing / pre-ordering a book. I can’t possibly respond to every single comment, no matter how much I’d like to, but I wouldn’t want anyone to think that they’ve written to me in vain- Even if my time for blogging and corresponding via the internet may become seriously limited, I will still always read anything sent my way, and I’m trying my hardest to keep up with everyone else’s blogs. It’s no small task to keep tabs on almost 200 different blogs!

So anyway, I’m finding that the basics are the only thing that can be counted on in this transitional period. Even things that seem so obvious end up getting left behind, and it’s hard to compensate for their absence. Take for instance, potholders: Sure, you could always use a towel or your roommate’s clothing, (kidding!) but I don’t know about you, but fuzzy terry cloth bath towels and sweaty garments aren’t exactly conducive to good eating. That’s why despite earlier hesitation on my part, I’m now certain that my housewarming gift to a friend will come in handy. A month ago now, this friend moved out into a place of her own, and I sent her along with just this very kitchen staple, and a very fitting rendition if I do say so myself.

My only regret is not being able to visit before shoving off for school, and I can’t say for sure that they’ve been put to use yet. It’s the thought that counts, so even if my friend isn’t terribly interested in handling hot pots and pans with this gift, I’m just happy to give her a token that might be a reminder that I’m thinking of her. And if only I had been thinking about myself I might have remembered to grab my own set of potholders, in this exact pattern but in black and blue, I might have a few less unsavory meals, speckled with towel fuzz.

[Skull Holder pattern from The Happy Hooker]

Moving forward in life sometimes moving away, leaving the familiar behind in attempts to grow as an individual, and face incredible change, both good and bad. I for one have immense difficulty for change- As a creature of habit, I’m not a fan of surprises or the unexpected, be it in tiny details or huge differences. To be completely candid with you, I’m fairly terrified with change. The unknown always seems ominous in my mind’s eye, promising struggles and malaise, while I can clearly see how non-threatening the present is, contented and at ease in my comfortable home with my loving family. Of course I know that nothing last forever, and that I would undoubtedly tire of the same old routine sooner or later, it’s just hard to be handed this deadline, a deadline to grow up. Packing up my belongings for the trip up to the college campus that I can now call my own, I can’t be entirely certain that I really did make the cut off date.

Storing years of accumulated junk away in the closet and selecting only the most important craft supplies, I can’t help but come to terms with the fact that I am scared. I don’t know what to expect, and that terrible, empty, black hole where experience should be just sucks me in and absolutely petrifies me. Maybe it will be fine, maybe it will even be fun, but there’s no saying what might happen. Knowing only what I’m leaving behind, it’s hard to understand why so many other kids my age are simply chomping at the bit to leave for school. My kitchen, my parents, my dog… There’s just no way to take any of that with me, and certainly nothing to replace them with.

Letting a few pent up tears slide hotly out of tired eyes, there’s simply no way to delay this natural progression any longer. I’m ready to go, but only because I’ve run out of excuses as to why I’m not.

Please bear with me in the coming days of transition- I promise the crafts, patterns, and recipes will keep on coming, simply because there’s no stopping that endless flow of ideas no matter what’s happening in my life, but the next few weeks might be rough. The posts might be short, the crafts might be quick and dirty, but change happens… And hopefully, I’ll adjust to that change in short time. Thanks for reading this far and letting me vent today.

College, here I come…!

Springing out of my cozy bed at the crack of dawn, I raced downstairs to start preheating my oven and assemble my mise en place for about a dozen new recipes. Time is running short in terms of my summer vacation, and I’m really feeling the pressure now. So many things are left undone, so many recipes left untested- This would be my last chance to just bake my heart out in the comfort of my own kitchen. Banging pots and pans to create the most wretched orchestra one could hope to hear before 8 AM, such a cacophony of cookware was buzzing right in my ear that I didn’t even notice a surprise visitor sitting at the table…

An old friend who must have just flown in from France, he certainly had a way about showing up on short notice! Disappointed that I was not the early bird this morning, beaten by the friend who was now eying my baking preparations hungrily, I figured that I might as well slow down a bit and chat with this unexpected guest. However, it was immediately obvious that this guy was not here for the conversation, as evident by his rumbling stomach and insistent questions about my plans for those sweet ingredients on the counter. Wielding a fork nearly as tall as himself, it was almost comical to think that he hoped to use it just as someone about ten times his size would! Nonetheless, far be it from me to refuse a friend in need, clearly my baking spree would have to wait until his appetite had been taken care of. Searching around in the pantry, there were many shortcuts that I tried to employ, offering frozen waffles, cereal, and fruit salad alike, hoping that this picky guest would be satisfied with an easy, ready to eat meal.

Ha, as if I needed to even ask! Nothing but the best for this breakfast connoisseur. Turning up his nose at the mere thought of eaten something out of a cardboard box, he seemed to become a less gracious guest by the minute. How was I to know what this French bear would want to eat? What do the French typically eat for the first meal of the day anyways? How about something like…. French toast?

As if I flipped some invisible switch with those two words, my friend at the table instantly perked up and grinned madly at the thought of sweet, sauteed toast with some spice and a soft custard-like texture in the center. Forget saving time and my own personal agenda, this French toast project became my one and only focus, my trial recipes temporarily forgotten. Slowly the sweet, cinnamon scent of my tried and true recipe filled the air, and my friend’s eyes grew the the size of saucers, imagining his luck at having such an easily manipulated personal chef, no doubt!  He’s just lucky that this very recipe happens to be one of my favorites, and is also included in my upcoming cookbook, so I’ve had plenty of practice making it.

Hot out of the pan and onto his plate, he didn’t even give it a moment to cool before cutting in and taking a huge bite. Grinning contentedly, I was just relieved that my duties as hostess could be considered fulfilled, even if I wasn’t a willing hostess to begin with. As much as I love having friends drop in like this, I wish he could have warned me in advance, so that I didn’t fall so far behind on my own agenda!

I’ve certainly knit my fair share of cupcakes since the start of my crafty adventures, but when time is short and I get orders for a half dozen yarn-based miniature cakes, pronto, the last things I would look for are my knitting needles. My blog is now becoming dominated by crocheted objects, but don’t get me wrong, I still love knitting- It just takes much more time in general, and who has any time these days? Why not just bust out that crochet hook and be able to finish off a full dozen in a day’s time?

This rendition is nothing new, special, or unique, but it’s getting harder and harder to follow ready-made patterns, as my hands tend to deviate so rebelliously that I usually end up with something entirely different by the time I cut the last thread. Instead, I figured it would be safer to start from scratch and write my own pattern, simply for my own convenience. You’ve got about a million other cupcake patterns to choose from on the wonderful web so be sure to check out all of your options, but here’s how I do them…

Cake:

With brown worsted weight yarn and an F hook, sc6 in a circle
Sc twice into each st (12 sts)
Sc1, sc twice into next st* around (18 sts)
Sc2, sc twice into next st* around (24 sts)
Sc into back loops of each st
Sc around
Sc11, sc twice into next st* around (26)
Sc6, sc twice into next st, sc12, sc twice into next st, sc6 (28)
Sc13, sc twice into next st* around (30)
Sc around
Break yarn

Frosting:

Sc6 in a circle
Sc twice into each st (12 sts)
Sc1, sc twice into next st* around (18 sts)
Sc2, sc twice into next st* around (24 sts)
Sc around
Sc3, sc twice into next st* around (30 sts)
Sc around for 3 rounds
Skip one st, 5 dc into next st, skip one st, sl st* around
Break yarn, leaving a long tail to sew with

To assemble, simply sew bugle beads or embroider multicolored “sprinkles” on top of the frosting as desired, stuff, and sew the cake to the edge of the frosting just inside of the scalloped edge. Now wasn’t that easy? Go ahead and make a baker’s dozen; You undoubtedly have enough time!

If there’s anything worse than watching a favorite fruit slowly passing its prime and going out of season, disappearing from store shelves until next year, it would be the way that some markets completely ignore seasons altogether. You would think that harvest times would be an important factor in what to stock a market with, but apparently this is of little interest to many mega-marts, supplying an endless stream of the same fruits and veggies all year round. Thanks to a consumerist culture that gets what it wants, when it wants, I turned 16 years old before I figured out that apples don’t actually grow all year round! But why not, if they can always be found shiny and polished, ready to be purchased just a short 10 minute drive away? Really, it makes me sick to think of how long those edible time bombs have been sitting in cold storage, just waiting to take the place of fresher specimens. At this point, the humble apple that you might find waiting patiently in the store could be almost a year old, picked in the cool, crisp autumn of 2006. So far from the proper season, I usually avoid such dubious suspects… But sometimes, I can’t help what ends up in my basket by the time I reach the check-out line.

Apple of my eye, so red and round, could you blame me for coveting that lustrous red skin? There’s no excuse for this impulse buy and I know it, surrounded as I am by those lovely soft apricots and blackberries ripe for the picking, but, oh, how I wanted it! In autumn months I’ve been known to consume as many as three apples per day, so to show this much restraint this late in the year is quite remarkable.

Settling in to enjoy my apple, the first matter of business was to cut away a few sweet slices to dunk in a healthy dollop of peanut butter. Slicing horizontally, immediately I could sense that it felt wrong somehow, as if it were hollow inside. It was pure craziness to think such an absurd thought, but the further in my knife dove, the less resistance it met. Strange indeed, I proceeded to pop the top off, and discovered the most heart-stopping scene inside. Knife clattering to the floor, I stood back so quickly that my chair toppled over awkwardly like an unbalanced drunkard, and in the midst of all this racket…

…Sat the longest, pinkest, wriggliest uninvited guest that had ever joined me at the table. Black, beady eyes poking this way and that, examining this bright new space, he appeared to be just as startled as I. As he began emerging from the apple slowly, I recoiled further in horror, the childhood fear of anything creepy or crawly returning in the blink of an eye.

While I could have easily expected mealy, bland, or even rotten innards, I would have never suspected that I had purchased nothing more than the facade of an apple, only good for housing a worm!

That will certainly teach me not to buy out of season ever again!

Rising each morning to find a brightly shining sun already waiting to greet me, it’s hard to curl up on a chair with my knitting and stay indoors, let alone sleep in and stay in bed. While most people find summer vacation to be restful and relaxing, I’m discovering that I have even less time to just laze around, compelled by the energetic rays of sunshine pooling in through the kitchen windows, promising fantastic light to accomplish just about anything with. That’s not to say that all the light turns my brain only to work- Oh no, there’s nothing better than a mid-day berry-picking expedition, or a romp around the yard with good friends. As we enter these dog days of summer, the pieces of the puzzle seem to fit perfectly as I play catch with one of my canine acquaintances.

Youthful and full of spunk, I swear this young pup could chase after the same yellow sphere for days on end. Don’t let his size fool you either; When playing fetch with twigs, he’s been known to drag home enormous limbs that look like full tree trunks compared to him! Focused on the target, he faithfully returns whatever I throw his way, no matter the distance and mindful not of how far the mercury climbs as the sun continues to rise. Nothing could break his concentration. Nothing, except…

Momentarily loosing sight of the ball, he catches a glimpse of some ethereal beauty through the corner of his eye. What surreal apparition is this, this… phantom that managed to interrupt our game, despite all the enthusiasm this puppy exudes? Letting the ball drop out of his vice-like grip, it bounced dejectedly to a stop, becoming lodged in a perilously deep gopher hole. Forgetting that any game or play mate had ever existed, he turned his back on me to get a better look at this curiosity that so captivated his imagination. Watching helplessly, I could see my friend drifting away from me, both literally and figuratively.

But who could blame the young lad, faced by this dashing female dachshund with a gorgeous face and delicate ribbons garnishing long, curly hair? So love-stuck by this perfect pooch that he was practically drooling a river, I knew that he meant no disrespect by breaking up our fun, but was under the influence of a more heady desire. Bitten by the love bug a hundred times over, it was surprising that he didn’t barrel straight into her and whisk her off her four feet!

Unaware of all the attention being paid by my friend, the girl in question was occupied by her own feelings for this handsome dog she spied across the field. There’s no denying true love, and one look at these two confirmed that they were nothing short of a match made in heaven.

Sure, I’m plenty jealous and disappointed that he would abandon the playing field just like that, but I know that it’s more than just puppy loved that compelled him. I can see in their eyes how happy they are together, and I would only wish them the best. Besides, there’s plenty more fun to be had in the sun, indoors or out, maybe next time, they’d both like to join in, too!