Project-a-month resolution: May

It's July already and I haven't posted about May yet. Blogging, work and everything else were overtaken by the recent death of my mother.

Before Mum became ill, I did finish the red tweed cardigan:

It's a Jo Sharp pattern knitted in Morris Woollahra 10-ply.

The pattern was easy to follow, and while I'm pleased with the actual knitting – it's neat, and I managed to finish it nicely – the fit isn't perfect. It's slightly too big for me, so I dunked it in hot water then rinsed it in cold to see if I could shrink it a bit. That worked to an extent, but the shoulders are still a little too Schwarzenegger for me, so I might have to unpick the shoulder seams and bring them in a bit. Sigh.


That's all for this post. Back to normality soon, I hope.

Project-a-month resolution: April

The resolution hit an unexpected and interesting detour this month. Rather than finishing something old, I was working on a commissioned project. Being paid to craft  – how good is that?


I can't reveal what it is it until the client has unveiled it, so will post about it later. But it was fun, challenging and took me 45 hours during March and April, so I've been hard at it.


I've also started a tweed cardigan for myself in this cheery shade:

The weather is starting to cool down here. This always makes me very happy, as winter is my favourite season. Even more excuse (as if one were needed!) to sit on the sofa engrossed in my knitting.

From the craft archives

I was at my mum's place over Easter and she still has this displayed in the spare bedroom. I made it when I was about 15. 

Retro-groovy, or worthy of Regretsy? I can't decide!

In my defence, it was the 1970s...

Whether it's hideous or not, this project taught me a lot of embroidery stitches and techniques I'd never encountered before. I guess I could look on it as the hippie equivalent of a sampler!


I also took a photo of the granny-square rug that I made when I was twelve, and which started my love affair with craft.

 

I like to think my tastes are a little more restrained these days!

Project-a-month resolution: March

This is a quilt I started about twelve years ago. It was meant to use up the scraps from another quilt (still unfinished, naturally) that I made out of Japanese prints in indigo and green. I didn't put a lot of thought into it, just cobbled it together. In hindsight, I could have made better use of the fabrics. Oh, well – live and learn.

The quilting is a mixture of machine and hand. I did a few lines of straight machine quilting on the cream parts, and started hand quilting the patterned strips, then lost interest. I didn't really like the combination of machine and hand quilting, and I considered unpicking the machining and re-quilting it by hand – as though that was ever going to happen! Hence its relegation to the Chest of Shame for several years.

What appeals to me about Japanese prints is the mixture of traditional designs …

… and wacky ones. Purple chillies and mixed seafood, anyone?

I still don't love the combination of machine and hand quilting, but it's there and it's staying. I've done the hand quilting in a criss-cross pattern. I bound the quilt in another Japanese print that I had hanging around; my economical side (usually thoroughly repressed) rejoices that I didn't have to spend an extra cent on this project.

It's not my greatest creative moment, but it's okay, and it's finished, and that's good enough for me.

How to make a felt e-reader cover

I've never been one for gadgets, unless they're the kitchen type. Technological gadgets leave me cold, but I recently bought a Kindle, as even a committed Luddite can see that carrying an e-reader is much handier than lugging books about. I plan to keep mine in my bag at all times, in case of bus queues on the harbour bridge, unpunctual friends, and other time-killing situations.

I know you can buy those vinyl folder things to protect e-readers, but really, how boring. I decided to make my own cover from two bits of felt I bought yesterday at Calico and Ivy in Balmain. If you want to make one too, here's how.

You could adapt these instructions for other gadgets, of course – just leave about 1 cm (1/2 inch) all round, for the seam and so you can get your gadget in and out of the cosy without shoving.

1. You will need two pieces of felt, some embroidery thread and a piece of ribbon, as well as general sewing supplies.

2. Cut a piece of felt 15 x 19 cm (6 x 7 1/2 inches) for the front of the cover.

3. Cut a piece of felt 15 x 27 cm (6 x 10 1//2 inches) for the back and flap of the cover.

4. Using your Kindle as a template, trace around its curves at all four corners of the back and flap piece, and around the bottom corners only of the front piece. Cut away the corners.

5. Matching the raw edges, pin the two pieces together.

6. Tack the two pieces together. Remove the pins.

7. If you have a straight eye, or don't mind wonky lines, you can sew without ruling a line first. Otherwise, rule a line using tailor's chalk, as I did, about 5 mm (1/4 inch) in from the edges.

8. Thread a needle with embroidery thread (I used variegated pearl cotton) and knot the end. Start sewing near where the two pieces join. Bring the needle up from the inside of the pouch to conceal the knot. Make a couple of backstitches across the join of the two pieces to reinforce.

9. Work a line of running stitch around the edge of the flap. When you get to the join on the other side, make another couple of backstitches to reinforce, then keep going with the running stitch all the way around the pouch.

10. Once you return to your starting point, make a couple of small backstitches on the back of the work, fasten the thread, pass the needle inside the pouch to conceal the end of the thread, and cut the thread off.

11. Sew a length of ribbon to the middle of the flap, insert your Kindle, tie the ribbon around it and you're ready to go. Happy e-reading!

Project-a-month resolution: February

Only two months in, and already the challenge has gone off piste somewhat. Lately I haven't been working on a neglected project, but a new one that needed to be completed in time for a birthday.

I started out wanting to do some beaded knitting, but I couldn’t find a pattern that seemed right, so I ended up inventing my own pattern for a crocheted scarf instead. The first step was to string quite a lot of beads onto the yarn. This was a no-brainer task for craft night, when I tend to be too distracted by alcohol, friends and funny stories to be able to concentrate on anything complicated.


(I was thinking while stringing hundreds of beads that it would be very helpful if yarn came pre-beaded. I've since found out that it does – Artyarns Beaded Silk Yarn is one brand, and jolly lovely it looks too.)

Although beaded crochet isn’t difficult as such, it’s slow. I've never done it before, and it seemed to involve a lot of pushing beads down the yarn to get them out of the way when I didn’t need them, and an equal amount of pushing them back up the yarn when I did, and not much actual crocheting.

Every second stitch on every second row has a bead added to it. The base fabric is
double crochet (or single crochet if you're North American.)

Things started to speed up when I got to the unbeaded lace part, though, which was encouraging. I chose a fairly heavyweight lace pattern so that it wouldn’t be distorted by the weight of the beaded ends. It’s a four-row pattern (called shell or fan, depending on which source you use) that’s pretty easy to remember.

The edges were a bit ragged, so I tidied them up with a row of double crochet. 

I also put some scalloping on the ends, which were looking a bit naked and wrong. 

I finished the scarf with about 30 cm of yarn to spare – lucky! I probably should have blocked it properly, but as I only finished it at 10 pm the night before it had to go in the mail, it wouldn’t have dried in time. Instead, I steam-blocked it with the iron.

And here it is, before being sent to its new home in Melbourne. Happy birthday, Louise!

  

Shameless self-promotion

I've always envied people who are good at selling themselves (except for the really pushy ones – I just want to slap them, of course). I'm a self-effacer, not a self-promoter; it's all I can do to send my CV to people to ask for freelance work. 


I've often wanted an outlet for my craft, though, in the hope of selling the odd bit of it. The idea of hanging out at Saturday markets and spruiking my wares in person fills me with dread, however. So today my clever and obliging friend Kitty came to the rescue by photographing some of my stuff –

Craft and the city – the view from Kitty's rooftop.

Japanese hexagons quilt top. (Someone pass me my sunglasses.)

William Morris lattice-patterned quilt top – out of the Chest of Shame
and on its way to a new life, I hope.

Arty shot, dahlings.

One of my knitted hot water bottle covers.

The Four Hotties. Like the Three Tenors, but woollier.

– and then setting up a MadeIt site for me.


So as of now, I will be selling stuff here. 


Thanks for tolerating this act of self-promotion. I hope it hasn't made you want to slap me.