Category: Crochet

Our kitchen is the only area of the house that enjoys large stretches of clear glass windows, greeting and welcoming the rising sun more enthusiastically than any other room. That could at least partially explain why I spend far more time there than in my own room, where even the wide open curtains only let in the faintest sliver of light, only a mere suggestion that it might in fact be day time. Like a moth drawn to the light, I’m likely to be found basking in the glow emitted by the row of windows adjacent to the fully transparent door downstairs, in the presence of all cooking activities surrounding. As much as I love this bright space, there are times when I curse the carefully constructed layout. It’s not entirely unusual to hear a sickening thud out of no where, and it’s instantly understood that another short-sighted bird mistook the solid surface as an opening.

If this happens when I’m around to hear it, I try to make sure that the feathered creature is alright, if a bit embarrassed. Although there’s little I could really do to help if they had seriously injured themselves, it’s a relief to know that my services are rarely need. Only once did the bird in question not immediately flutter off, shaken but stable. Looking more than a little dazed, I invited a particularly stricken victim of misperception inside to gather his wits and take a small breather. Accompanied shortly by two other worried friends, I asked them all to stay a bit, not wanting anyone to get left behind.

With both caretakers at his sides, it was no time before the whole trio was ready to set off again, behind schedule but wiser for the unexpected pit stop. Now I can fully appreciate when people put seemly absurd stickers on large glass surfaces, warning others to look where they’re going. Obvious to humans (in most cases), but a bird flying at high speed might not look twice otherwise. Maybe it’s time to invest in something of that sort, although unfortunately, I doubt that many of my winged friends will be able to read the warnings.

Birds are still a joy to have around for company, and if there were a way to have more of them stop in without literally hitting the side of the house, I think it would be the best for all of us. Visitors like the ones pictured here are extremely gracious guests, not at all demanding, and always courteous to their hosts, not to mention a snap to make. Requiring only the most basic crocheting competency and smallest amount of yarn, why don’t you adopt a few today?

Body:

Using an F hook and worsted weight yarn in the color of your choice, sc 6 into a circle
Sc2 into each st (12 sts)
Sc 1, sc2 into next st* around (18 sts)
Sc 2, sc2 into next st* around (24 sts)
Sc around
Sc 3, sc2 into next st* around (30 sts)
Sc around for 10 rounds
Sc 3, sc2 tog* around (24 sts)
Sc 2, sc2 tog* around (18 sts)
Sc 1, sc2 tog* around (12 sts)
Sc2tog around (6 sts)

Wings (Make 2):

Sc 6 into a circle
Sc2 into each st (12 sts)
Sc 3, sc2 into next st (15 sts)
Sc around for 3 rounds

Tail:

Sc6 into a circle
Sc2 into each st (12 sts)
Sc2 into each st (24 sts)

Assembly:

Stuff body firmly, gather remaining 6 stitches together and tie tightly. Fold tail in half and sew around outside edge. Sew tail with the flat (inner part) lined up with the last of plain single crochet on the body. With wings about halfway on the body, sew them on so that they are symmetrical, and the tail remains centered between them. Embellish with felt beak and plastic eyes.

Make a whole family, because birds of a feather flock together!

Long hours spent pounding away at the keyboard may seem harmless enough, but eventually even the most agile joints will begin to complain. Beginning as a nagging, dull stiffness, no one ever takes heed of the first warning signs, thinking nothing of this mild discomfort. Just one more paragraph to type, one last email to send off into the void of cyberspace, a few more minutes of flailing fingers couldn’t possibly hurt, right? Ordinarily I would agree, but after being glued to my own set of lettered keys for enough time to see the sun rise and set in a single sitting, my aching wrists beg to differ. Observing the protest of severely cramping muscles, I can’t help but wonder how so many other people spend what seems to be the entire day on their computers with the threat of a similar pain always looming!

Reaching the end of my rope in the middle of a long essay put off until the last possible minute for class, the last thing I wanted to see was the demanding rubric laying nearby, clearly informing me that there were still at least 800 words missing from my paper before it could be considered complete. Clutching a bit over-dramatically at my burdened wrist, I was already brainstorming excuses as to why I was unable to finish such an important factor in my overall grade. Without a second glance at the tortuous assignment, I turned to walk away, but spotted a familiar feline moseying towards me at just that instant.

Never one to let others give up when the going get tough, my four-legged friend nuzzled up against the edge of my abused keyboard, urging me to press onward. Surprised by her enthusiastic support, I tentatively moved back into position, discovering that leaning on her back really did take a good deal of the pressure off!

How lucky I am to have such devoted friends around to lean on when I need help! Thanks to this selfless individual, I’m happy to report that by the time my class rolled around the next day, I was able to triumphantly place my fully typed paper in the teacher’s expectant hands. Hopefully the efforts made on both of our behalves will be reflected in my final grade…

Still grateful to have such a cool cat around, it was hard to part when the time came to say good bye. Though I still miss her, I’m placated by the knowledge that she’s in a good home now, hopefully supporting another friend in times of need.

As Valentine’s Day begins to round the bend and enter our peripheral vision, love and all things related are definitely on the brain. Every encounter with coworkers, classmates, or friends that was once innocuous now takes on new meaning; Favors, compliments, extra attention could all be indications of feelings lurking just below the surface, rising like a hot-air balloon with thoughts of the approaching holiday helping to push them upwards. While this thought is perfectly plausible, I tend to discount this particular advent as an ingenuine, commercialized celebration of what should be appreciated every day of the year, instead of just when the calendar dictates. Compassion is not something to be taken for granted, and not just something to be proven through token cards and candies like some macho pissing contest. See, I really love you, honey – I bought you crap you don’t need and I didn’t want to pay for in the first place! How sweet.

Regardless, my opinions can’t change the effect that the suggested day of romance has on some of the other people around me. Tending to be all but oblivious to the underlying implications of the approaches of others, I couldn’t help but be slightly uncomfortable by the blatant stares directed my way all through study hall one school day from a certain someone. What does he want? Is there something on my face? Spinach between my teeth? What, for god’s sake?!

Nothing more than an irritating observer, I turned my back and concentrated all of my will to not let his graze get under my skin. Feeling his eyes continue to bore a hold through my skull, it was no shocker when after 45 minutes I gathered my books to leave, and saw him inanimate with the same goofy expression on his face. Already on the edge, my impatience for these shenanigans was at its limit. At this point, it was the most I could do to avoid giving him a glare cold enough to rival the temperature outside in return.

Ready to breeze out the door and make my escape, it was then that I understood the meaning behind this stranger’s funny looks. Really, it was practically written across his face – There may as well have been hearts in his eyes for all the affection they harbored.

Flattered but still uneasy, I slipped out of the classroom fast as lightning upon hearing the bell’s merciful siren. Glancing around behind myself tentatively, I quickly comprehended that this poor soul simply suffered from falling for too many Valentine’s Day gimmicks. A clearly painful affliction indeed, as every female passing by was subjected to the same love-struck grin that he seemed to be displaying indiscriminately. Not a one was spared from his overzealous, hormone-driven feelings so characteristic of adolescent males around that age.

Placated by the knowledge that this would be yet another year without any admirers for me to worry about, I sighed deeply with relief… And dashed off quickly to the nearest mirror to make sure that there really wasn’t anything between my teeth after all.

Standing outside at the crack of dawn, the same wind that used to feel like a mild chill now packs a punch that would make you fearful of an approaching ice age. Skies brighten by noon into a crystal clear blue, as pure and innocent as an illustration in a picture book, but the arctic temperatures prevent them from being enjoyed by any warm-blooded creatures. As my enthusiasm for this cold month slowly but surely began to deflate like a terminal helium balloon, I prepared to admit defeat and make myself a pair of gloves for insulation. Nothing complicated, time consuming, or particularly special, all that was necessary was enough junk yarn to tie up and stretch over my numb fingers.

Being such a simple task, I had figured that it would take only one or two sittings to complete, pushing aside other projects temporarily. Wanting already to get back to more interesting work, I hastily pulled out some old, forgotten skeins of yarn from the depths of my stash. Pulling my closet door shut, I paused midway through the act, having sworn I saw movement from within. Typically questioning my sanity, I was prepared to write it off when to my shock and horror, a random skein suddenly dislodged itself from the towering pile of yarn, causing a miniature avalanche flowing out into the room.

What sort of yarn demon have I been harboring all this time?! Panicked thoughts electrified my neurotransmitters like a power surge. Fearing the repercussions of my clearly neglectful storage this fiber fiend may be set to punish me for, I froze, staring wide-eyed at the source. It was then that I noticed a very large pair of grey ears poking up through the pile, and soon the owner with a pair of very round, blue eyes was staring back at me.

Carefully composing myself, I realized that this poor creature had only been trying to escape the exact same cold that had driven me to my stash. Knowing that he had been caught fair and square, the mournful look of resignation across his face cut into my heart strings. There was no way I could kick him out into ghastly temperatures still plummeting outside with a clear conscience – He had even less of a coat than I to keep the heat in! Reaching next to him and picking out a skein he seemed to have become fond of, I contemplated this dilemma, and saw that I had the solution right in my hands.

There’s nothing like a sturdy pair of mittens to fight off the chill, as I’m quickly learning. Fashioning a pair for him in minutes, his expression softened considerably and he gratefully accepted this token, trying them on instantly. They fit like… Well, a glove! Still, I’m not so naive to think that all he needed was a pair of gloves and then send him on his way again, so now he can keep warm without huddling inside my stash all day, but he’s free to stay until the cold front breaks a bit. It could be months, but that’s a small price to pay for a new friend.

It’s no wonder that every day, more and more people in each of my classes are reported as absent, what with midterms over and senior slump starting to kick in. Beyond that though, sickness and the ubiquitous cold are claiming countless new victims as the sun rises on each new but equally unforgiving morning. Whenever another one of my friends begins to speak up about feeling under the weather, my advice is always the same: Stay warm, get plenty of rest, and drink as much miso soup as you can take. Slowly processing my words through their spent, hazy minds, it seems perfectly agreeable until the ‘miso soup’ part starts to register. Miso soup? What about chicken noodle? Don’t even get me started on that foul fowl housed in a gelatinous broth of overcooked starch. It will hardly give you the energy to get out of bed on a good day, let alone help you overcome the odds when maladies are knocking at your door.

Having such a well stocked pantry as I do, it’s easy to forget that not everyone has such an abundance of more esoteric ingredients. Miso is hardly exotic in this day and age, but it is still not the first thing on most Americans’ grocery lists either. Hearing that those I care about don’t have access to my sure-fire method to restore health, of course I couldn’t just sit around and hope they felt well enough to show up at school tomorrow. Trudging home through muck and slush from the previous night’s sad attempt at snow, I immediately set upon my new task, and whipped up a nice hot batch of miso soup, tofu and all.

They say that laughter can be the best medicine, so I thought it would be best to serve up a bowl with my beloved Hello Kitty spoon included, as I’m not one to take chances. Who wouldn’t be cheered by the mere sight of Hello Kitty’s face on their eating utensil anyway? It’s my secret weapon to combat the worst moods and gloomiest days.

After slurping down just a small mouthful of the comforting brew, my friends are most likely to concede that the miso really must have made a difference, and that the additions of tofu and scallions really hit the spot, too. It hardly takes any time, skill, or complicated recipes, but I believe that a bowl of miso soup made by a caring companion can heal any aches and pains, whether it be of the body or of the heart. Best of all, after this chance encounter with someone who didn’t have the means to make their own miso, I was able to discover this new method to make it so that I can now ship it through the mail to those long distance acquaintances that could use some warmth of their own!

When in the company of various friends, I sometimes pick up on slight nuances in the way individuals might refer to the same things in different ways. I love the variations in speech due to upbringing, geography, and so on, often wishing that I had more exotic or esoteric words to twist around my tongue, almost as if talking in a secret language. My theory is that this could be why foreign accents are so appealing in general. It’s always striking to hear others call a soda “pop”, a “soft-drink,” and generally anything other than… Soda. That’s all I’ve been raised to call it, and that’s all I will probably ever see it as.

Since I’m pretty much obsessed with crochet and knitting, with small animals being my project of choice, everyone I talk to knows about my love for stuffed animals. This is what I call them. However, within the crafting community, they are more commonly referred to as “softies,” although this term can sometimes be reserved for cloth-made toys only. I hadn’t considered any other alternatives in which to categorize my work, until I made a gift for a gamer, who reminded me that within that particular demographic, they may call them “plushies.”  Laughably, this isn’t even considered to be a proper word to my spell-check program!

This friend happens to have quite an impressive collection of commercially purchased plushies, so I wanted to make something different, that wouldn’t be at the dealer’s room of any old anime convention. Knowing him to be a fan of the game Katamari Damacy, I jumped at the idea of making the Prince after finding a pattern on Etsy.com.

A good idea, right? No muss, no fuss, just follow the instructions and you’ll have an instant plushie. …Wrong. Maybe I just can’t follow written patterns anymore, or maybe I’m just too much of a perfectionist to allow certain details to go unnoticed. It just killed me how inaccurate it was in certain aspects! Either way, after having paid for the pattern and trying my hardest to make it work, I ended up winging it. I simply decided I didn’t like the length of the head, size of the face, rough decreases and size of the body, not to mention some of the color details and lack of feet.  Too bad I didn’t think about how these inaccuracies would drive me crazy before I forked over the money. Small as it may seem, I’m somewhat up the river now as far as funds for crafting go, and I’ve been working my butt off to make ends meet.  That’s why my posts haven’t been quite so regular or length as of late.  My apologies!

Anyway, despite nearly loosing my mind after recreating the entire pattern from scratch, this plushie was met with great appreciation.  Call it what you may, but hopefully it will be more meaningful than the mass-produced neighbors it is probably sharing shelf space with now.