What am I thinking????

My lovely friend, Scout, has been bitten by the crochet bug.  To put it simply....she is hooked (har, har, har).  Following some small practise projects, she is taking it to the next level by tackling a great big ripple blanket.  

IT'S ALL HER FAULT!  Normally, the idea of a large scale project like a blanket is an anathema to me; I know the initial excitement fades, the boundless motivation soon leaves, the overwhelming resentment kicks in and the blanket becomes a big, woolly millstone glaring at me malevolently from the M & S bag it's been ingloriously stuffed into. The rapid descent from eager-beaver to cannae-be-arsed-molerat is unavoidable.

My extensively researched graph

So, why did I allow myself to get so caught up in her plans?  Why have I just created a foundation chain that is (count 'em) 285 stitches long?

Why have I just spent £60 on Rico Creative Cotton in various shades of yellow/orange/red?

Why have I spent an entire afternoon trying to crochet Little Woollie's beautiful Star Stitch, only to decide that, um, actually, I can only see myself ever completing a blanket stitched solely in Half -Trebles?

I blame Scout.  Her enthusiasm is infectious.  The baby cashmerino yarn she bought was so pretty.  She even got to go on a solo, leisurely recon trip to John Lewis and enjoy the.......              

‎`´✫¸.•°*˜˜*°•✫ Wonderful Wall of Wool ✫¸.•°*˜˜*°•.✫

Alone

Without children

Or husband

*Sigh*  

I should know better, however, what is done is done and I hereby name this project..................

 'Flora's 21st Birthday blanket' 

Do you think 18 years is enough time?

To distract, here are two other things that have been made this week.

The odd looking child is wearing a bonnet/scarf combo that my husband kindly christened 'The Barf'.  I found a pattern on Ravelry and just used oddments of acrylic aran I literally had lying around the house.  Had to fiddle around with the tension a little but, in the end, as always, she'll grow into it.

Our local library is taking the global recession very seriously indeed and is running a little course of 'Make Do and Mend' afternoons.  Now, I am pretty lucky as it's my pal, Aly, that's responsible for the classes, so we got a heads up and Flora and I ambled over on Wednesday.  Two hours is a long time for a 3 year old, especially when surrounded by things she's not allowed to touch, but she really enjoyed it; she decided our cushion would have our house on it, she chose appropriate material to represent the actual fabric of the house (yes, our roof is pink fun fur.  Wanna make something of it??) and she eagerly helped me sew it all together on the sewing machines.  She also tried to stick everything together with purple glitter fabric glue, repeatedly used Aly as a climbing wall and protected the Herman cake we had brought like an Olympic Flame Security Guard who got Rottweiler teeth for Christmas but you can't have everything.

All this and I went rollerskating?

Madness.

Laters dudes

Luv Egg on a Stick x

My Mother...

Me:  I think that's all the crayon off the seats in Dad's car *gulp*
My Mother:  Don't worry.  I'm sure the rest will come off with some UB40.
Me:  Surely that only works on Red Red Wine?
My Mother:  ?????

Love my mother but she can be a little dim sometimes.  Amusing though.

Luv Egg on a Stick x

Reluctant Jubilee participation....

Soooooooo the Jubilee.  Hmmm.  Not such a big deal North of the Border, West of the Scotland.  I can see a Union flag from my window but it is very small and timid.  No bunting, no funny hats, no street parties that I'm aware of and very little red, white and blue hoopla.  Not that we're not thankful for the bank holidays....

Bucking the trend, however, Flora's playgroup are having their own wee themed Jubilee day. Last week she super-excitedly told me that she was to dress up for next playgroup, something royal.  Despite my best efforts, she eschewed my plans for a Junior Anarchist costume and requested a princess outfit instead.  The P word is normally outlawed in this house, or greeted with cries of 'YUK!' but she was insistent. And apparently a princess outfit is a pretty dress and a yellow crown.  I'm on it.  Eventually.

Following a rummage through Ravelry for inspiration (and occasional horrified gasp), I came up with this:

I used Rico Cotton Aran in Banana, a 4.5 hook and winged it a bit with the sizing.  Flora's heid is 21" in circumference (she has a mahoosive head for such a small person!) and I made the foundation chain about 1.5" shorter at 88 stitches.  Worked out quite well but could have gone a little shorter still, maybe up to another inch?  Judge your own tension and don't worry too much- crowns look better worn placed back on the head but work equally well plonked right on top.

I did my foundation chain then turned, chained one and double crocheted along to the beginning and THEN joined the circle.  I've lost track of the number of times I've joined circles and then, three rows later, found it's turned into the most beautiful, but utterly useless, mobius strip.  By doing an extra row before joining, I find it adds a bit of sturdiness and I'm much less likely to get everything in a twist.

Alternatively, and especially if you are unsure of sizing, crochet left to right, right to left, add in appropriate turning chains and leaving nice long ends which you can use to tie round your victim's loved one's head, more like a tiara.

Crown Pattern (UK terms throughout)

slightly rude drawing of pattern

Ensure, regardless of sizing, your foundation chain is multiple of 8 stitches.


Row 1: Dc along, turn
Row 2: Ch1, (starting 2nd st from hook) dc along.  Sl st to join.
Row 3: *dc x 4, (dc, 7ch, dc), dc x 3* repeat to end
Row 4: *tr, dc, skip 3st, 9dc into arch, skip 3st, dc* repeat to end
Row 5: *dc into 1st tr, ch4, skip 5 st, (dc, 5ch, dc), ch4* repeat to end
Row 6: *dc into 1st dc, 4dc into 4ch space, 3dc into 5ch space, 4 dc into 4 ch space* repeat to end

Some (useful?) close ups

Once it's done, I think a good iron and a spot of spray starch would keep it nice and regal.  Starts to look decidedly unprincess-y when worn immediately and for hours, on one of the hottest days EVER, but it was quite nice to have such a distinguished guest to dinner and who knew that princesses only really require toast for tea (having spent a day at granny's, ingesting nothing but refined sugar and sausages)?

As for the pretty dress, turns out that really just means a clean dress in this house.  I'm sure I can find one of those...somewhere...maybe.  Actually, come to think of it, I'm sure I saw a photo of KMid wearing one of her da's old tshirts, hacked into a passable frock with some sparkles stuck on.  Sure I did.  Prob'ly in Hello or summat.

Regally yours


Luv Egg on a Stick

Actual Mortification

I shall share here, on t'internet, where nobody goes, my most embarrassing moment of this week/month/year/life.

I was lucky enough to get a ticket to see  Carol Ann Duffy , Gillian Clarke and Liz Lochhead at the Aye Write Book Festival at the Mitchell Library in Glasgow tonight.  Turned out to be a truly excellent evening.  These are three incredibly inspirational women- the Poet Laureate, National Poet for Wales and Scots Makar- and mistresses of their craft. There was a leaning towards poems about mothers, including Carol Ann Duffy's Resurrection, a poem about her dead mother, made even more poignant as her father was in the audience.  Thankfully, my snuffles were well hidden by the enthusiastic applause.  I hadn't read too much by Ms Duffy but I will now.  There is an intelligence and dry sense of humour (veering towards bitterness) that was very appealing.  So, when the readings finished, this new-found enthusiasm for poetry saw me dash to the signing table.......

.....where I stood in a long queue caused by someone paying by credit card, where the Waterstone's bookseller couldn't take credit cards, where the menopausal ladies behind me were complaining loudly about the Waterstone's bookseller who couldn't take credit cards, where I had to pay by credit card until eventually, harassed and confused (and £40 lighter- starving poets, my arse), and with a copy of each poet's book clutched by my stubby digits, I was shoved towards the first poet, Liz Lochhead:

LL- Who would you like the dedication to?

Me- Oh, no, that's ok.

LL- Sorry dear, whose name would you like?

Me- Yours please.

LL- *eyebrows raised* and your name?

Me- Oh, no thank you.  I didn't write it.

LL- I know dear, I did.

I hastily moved on to poet #2, Gillian Clarke.

GC- Any particular name?

Me- Oh good God, not this again!

GC- Sorry?

Me- What? [cue Liz Lochhead sniggering to her left]

GC- I beg your pardon?

Me- Just your name please.  Not that I'm not a fan or anything, it's just I don't really like people writing in books.  

GC- Hmmmm?

Me- *sweating profusely*

GC- I'm so glad you chose this [At the Source, 2008] book.  It's my absolute favourite.  Did you know that when it came out, no-one reviewed it?  No-one!

Me- I'll review it if you like, I can write about any old rubbish......

GC- ????????????

I look around for help, any help and find it in the form of Poet Laureate, Carol Ann Duffy.

CAD- *laughing hysterically* You're quite right, it is rubbish. Who's this to be dedicated to?

Me- PleasecouldyousignthisformydaughterFlorasoIcangetoutofherebeforesomeonearrestsmeforbeingsuchadick? 

I can honestly say that's my most embarrassing literary fuck-up since I stood on Terry Pratchett's hat.  It's right up there with unspeakable youthful indiscretions and referring to amoeba as a single-celled orgasm in a very public lecture at university.  Truly dreadful.

Let this tale not detract from these amazing women.  I urge you to read some of their poems and to ignore the fact that I was a doofus.  In public.  Again.

Laters

Luv Egg on a Stick x

Decoupage and Zombies

A long-awaited day off- Nugget dismissed me from Granny's house with a, 'Have you not left yet?  Cheerio.' and I returned to base with one thing on my mind.

Decoupage.

Actually, I had two things on my mind:  decoupage and catching up on the hours and hours of TV I seem to have missed recently.  Monday's a good day for zombies, vampires and motorcycle gangs. 

Since before Flora was born we have collected Ladybird books and some are really a bit past it.  Flora's getting a new room (it's actually the same room she's meant to have always had but where else am I going to dry my washing?) and a cull was necessary.  It's my fault.  I can't leave a Ladybird book in a charity shop- it's the drawings.  How can anyone resist them?  I open the wee book and I know immediately if it was one I read as a child- it's not unknown for me to start squealing like an idiot when I recognise the pictures.  I have a thang about vintage kids' books in general.  But it's just me.  Andy & Flora roll their eyes and claim they smell (the books, not Andy and Flora. Although....) and the books languish in an unloved pile.  Some of my favourites have been old Enid Blyton short story compilations.  Utterly un-PC. Brilliant!  Uncle Robert returning from sea with cigarettes for Father and lighting his pipe in the nursery, or learning about being brave and not a 'silly little coward who will never have any friends'.  Eeek!  

  

(Off topic- I spoke to a lady today whose three year old grand-daughter has her own iPad.  *actually properly lost for words*)

So I dug out some cube shelves I bought in Mozzers for the princely sum of £2.98 and gave them a ridiculously light sanding.  Have I ever mentioned how dreadful I am at the prep work?  Even thinking about it now is making me yawn.  Dullsville. 

Once sanded, I guillotined the books.  I felt quite guilty at this stage- books aren't meant to be destroyed, are they?  But I got over it pretty quickly.  The pages looked lovely away from the mouldering covers, all piled up on my table.

Anyway, couldn't take any pictures of the actual decoupage process because my fingers were too sticky and the camera is too important but, suffice to say, there was a lot of PVA glue involved, some sharp creases and at least two incidences of swears (#1 Jumper stuck to table #2 Me stuck to jumper).

And.....voila!

 I was pretty chuffed with them.  And they hardly stuck to the table at all in the end.  

Lots of left over pages which will not go to waste.  I have been eagerly eyeing up all sorts of things to cover (glass? empty tins?  my bike???) and I think I might cut some leaf shapes and use them on the walls in a sort of mural/collage/thing for Flora to pick off the wall and get shouted at for.

Result!

Luv Egg on a Stick

Valentine's Day

Here's hoping the way to my man's heart is through his stomach..........

Luv Egg on a Stick x

busy, busy, busy.....and relax!

It's been a busy week Chez Egg. Lots of fun times for the Mini-egg- singing, playgroup, clay hedgehogs, babies to poke and all topped off with a visit to the Great Eggs in Edinburgh.  Man, my child loves her East Coast family!

It's been a mad rush to get it all finished but it's done and I now have the luxury of a wee week off from productive hooking.  Which is lovely.  Except I've got a million ideas......

Flora took a shine to the bunting and decided to decorate with it.

As with almost everything she does, my heart is in my mouth.  You try telling her that bunting (along with dressing gown cords, telephone cables and wool) isn't a necklace and MUSN'T GO ROUND YOUR NECK EVER!!!


'But it looks so beautiful, Mummy.  You wear it.'


Cue mild peril and throttling.


Off for a lie down


Luv Egg on a Stick