Small Craft Advisory

The Barack-tail Contest...

What's in that cocktail shaker? The Barack-tail of course. 

I'm sending out a call for entries for the making of the Barack-tail drink. Whats that, you ask? You decide. Yes, we can create a new drink for the new administration. 

Leave your suggestions and recipes for the Barack-tail in the comments section, and after many hours of exhaustive testing by the Small Craft Advisory Advisory Board tonight, I'll announce the winner tomorrow morning.

But wait, there's more...

Then winner of the Barack-tail will receive as a prize a fabulous pair of handknit fingerless mitts made from soft wool/cashmere. These mitts are warm and handy, allowing you to shake a cocktail shaker , dig out a cell phone from your pocket, or paint in your unheated studio without taking off your gloves (in addition to giving any outfit that Bob Cratchett touch).

Needless to say, if McCain wins we'll all be drinking vodka straight out of the bottle Wednesday morning. 

Empty Pumpkin Syndrome

Otherwise referred to as E.P.S. 

I've struggled with this condition starting in mid October for a few years now. Halloween has turned into a tangled web of logistics and social intrigue. Basically I release my children into the neighborhood streets after dark armed only with a flashlight and a Sephora bag. 

And somehow they return...sweaty and wide-eyed with pounds of candy plunder.   

At least there was still some Halloween sewing to be done this year. I made a brocade tunic with asymetrical opening for the Dragon Magician/Assasin costume. A Spygirl Jr. classic costume concept.

  

I spent my lonely, treat-doling evening knitting and finished an entire hat. Behold my E.P.S. cap. Knit in the round with Noro Kuryeon on 8's. One evening, begun at dusk with the littlest trick or treaters, bunnies and fairies, parents insisting on saying 'thank you'. And finished in the later hours, when teens show up and ask if my son is around, costumes less recognizable, lots of thank you's but no "trick or treats'.

Oh, and this hat has a twin. It was my current favorite hat, but was spirited away by a mysterious magician/assasin.

Happy Campers

In which an entire family packs up their SUV...

 

confusing the dog...

 

drives for hours to a West Virginia National Forest...

 

sits happily in the back seat sharing an ipod...

 

sees some beautiful scenery...

 

reads warning signs posted about bears and unexploded bombs from WWII in the woods... 

pitches the big tent anyway...

 

gets in the tent, and stares up at the sky.

Three Happy Things

I like things in threes. And I have three things that are making me happy these days... 

Milk delivered to my door from a local creamery. And they come in these handy crates. Or as Reed noticed

"Hey those bottles fit inside that crate perfectly".

   

Afternoon tea with Spygirl Jr. at Starbucks, a short walk from the house.

Making something lovely with leftover Liberty of London.

What three things are making you happy today?

(Liberty of) London Calling...

Oh yes, I heard the $40 per yard siren song calling for years. And finally broke open the piggy bank and started buying quarter yards here and there whenever I found it. Last spring, I assembled the fabric into a scrumptious stack, but it wasn't till I came home from India that I took rotary cutter and ruler in hand and started slicing and stitching.

The end result is gorgeous beyond measure. I love the cool crispness of the Liberty fabric, the lightness of the lawn on the back, and the bias binding peeking out from the edges. It wasn't till I finished it that I realized it was all flowers, every single pattern. 

And that is just fine with me.

Textile Tuesday...

turned into Spygirl Jr. broke her wrist-day. So we've been sidetracked by the orthopedist and a flourescent green cast. 

 

OK, back to me...and my Liberty of London quilt, which is finally completed. And will make its debut for the upcoming Textile Treasure Trove Tuesday- as in tomorrow. 

In the meantime, here's a glimpse of what's been keeping me going the last few weeks. A chicken filled with chocolate chips.

A Weekend

Smile, its Pancake Saturday!

Soccer season has begun.

Lunch outside.

Backyard Bonfire...

with s'mores galore.

Meet the new bunny Snickerdoodle.

Hope you all had a great weekend, too!

Textile Tuesday

Is it Textile Tuesday already? It really sneaks up on you, doesn't it? 

I have been a seriously sewing fool the last few weeks. Basically, I came home from the airport, dumped my luggage by the front door, and headed into my studio. I sewed and sewed, emerging only to rush out to the fabric store muttering Must. Have. More. Thread.

Its all evened out, however. And I have three spectacular new quilts to show for it, The first is the Pinwheel, which has been languishing in my studio all summer waiting for a binding. Here it is, bound and washed, ready for cool nights.

Here's the binding. So lovely.

Messy Markets

I know all of you readers (ok, both of you) are rolling your eyes and sighing indulgently at me, while I go on and on about all the things I miss about India. But today, I crawled out from under my rock of despair, and went to our neighborhood farm market to buy some produce. Or as Maria says "Stick it to the Man", which adds a much needed edge to household chores. 

And I marveled at the cleanliness of it, the ordered way people stand in line. There aren't any barnyard animals wandering around, no Vespas and motorcycles careening down the street. It seems downright safe. And as much as this is the scene of comfort and familiarity, I miss the chaos, the noise, the commotion, the haggling and even the filth of the markets in India. I miss the variety of goods and services. Its different in every way imaginable, and holds its own in every way, too. 

Spygirl Jr. liked to have her hand henna'd at the market. 

 

You never forgot where your food came from in India

.  

The market is an all day, entire family affair in Bangalore.

  

Missing Fruit

Tropical fruit, sold on the street, picked possibly that morning. I nearly wept the first time I ate a mango in India. I know it sounds extreme, but it was THAT much better than supermarket mangos. And I've never even been a mango fan. Go figure.