Frog it or Forget it?

We're asking the tough questions today.

A recent adventure in "Failure to Read the Pattern Closely" resulted in me being fifteen rows into Briquette by Two Little Plums and finding myself with a bunch more stitches than required. Not like, "Oh, I did one extra row of increases, oops!" No. This was more, "Oh. I increased eight more stitches than required each row for the last seven right-side rows." A major boo boo. One that there was no doubt that I had to frog and restart.

As I was pulling the work off my needles, I got to thinking about where I draw the line between frogging a mistake and just forgetting about it. (For those who don't know, frogging means ripping your work out. Because frogs go, "rip-it, rip-it." Yes I know. Puns. But still. That's what people call it.) For me, a project has to be pretty much nonredeemable to inspire me to frog. If I have up to four stitches too many/too few, I just adjust my work in the next round. Sometimes I can put up with a larger margin for error, depending on the project. I am not a Frogger, for the most part. I am a Forgetter.

I have two very crafty and meticulous Grandmothers who don't do things half way, an aunt whose sewing skills are magazine worthy, a sister who enjoys making photo-realistic paintings and doilies with sewing thread, and a mom whose recent major crafting achievement was making an evening gown out of 1" strips of silk from ties. Let's not even talk about my friends who craft. Suffice it to say, precision is all around me.

But for some reason, I ended up in the Forgetter camp. I ended up feeling alright with myself for pushing past imperfections in my work and just loving the finished object. I'm not saying it's wrong to want to "have it right." I'm just saying there are primarily two camps in the crafting world: People who Frog, and People who Forget.

When I look back at early work I've done, be it sewing, crocheting, painting, or knitting, the mistakes stare back at me blatantly. Sometimes, I see the mistakes nobody else sees. We are always our own worse critics. But, I kind of like the little errors.

Maybe it makes me weird, but I like to be reminded that I'm constantly learning. When I see the gap in the first lace I knit I think, "There's a mistake I now know how to avoid!" When I see the missed stitches on the first scarf I crochet I think, "Now I know how to make sure I'm at the end of the row!" Sometimes the mistakes irk me, but for the most part I like them.

I always think back to one statement someone made to me about twelve years ago. I took a beading class with my Girl Scout Troop and had messed up in the color pattern on my necklace. It was just a little goof up, and I was ready to rip the whole thing out. The instructor said, "I always leave my mistakes in. Nobody is perfect. If we were perfect, we'd be God."

Maybe I'm using it as an excuse to be a lazy crafter, but I think of that line every time my bias tape bundles up or I miss a ribbed stitch.

Unless of course, I have fifty six extra stitches. In that case, SO LONG YA NASTY MESSED UP SWEATER YOKE!!!


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Where do you draw the line between frogging and forgetting?

Grandpa's Socks

 Let me set the scene for you: It's the first day of autumn in the colorful Midwest. Trees are just faintly showing traces of the splendor to come. The wind is blowing the smell of dry grass and apples around. The cornstalks shimmy against each other in the breeze making that 'dry bones crackle' noise. It's warm still. The kind of sunset-glow-warm that summer gets as it fades to fall. Warm enough still to wear tennis shoes and no jacket. Warm enough to have ankle socks on.

Enter: Grandma's house. Your face is rosy cheeked from the wind, not the cold. You have no sniffle of the nose from the slight chill. You are the picture of comfort and contentment. You pop your shoes off in anticipation of some cold apple cider and a doughnut. Skating carelessly across the linoleum in your ankle socks, you hear a gasp.

"Why...CAROLYN!! You aren't wearing any socks!!!"

Grandpa stares wide-eyed at your "bare" feet as you pivot to face him.

"I've got socks on, Grandpa."

-insert indignant 'hrumph' here-

"They are socks, Grandpa!!"

"You are going to catch a cold."

"Grandpa-"

"It's nearly winter."

(It's August 1st.)

"I'm fine. I swear."

"I'm getting you some socks."

"Grandpa..."

Grandma gives you a knowing, 'let him go' eyeroll and gets you some cider. Grandpa returns with a pair of his plush, deep-woods, electric orange-topped hunting socks.

"THESE are socks. Put them on."

"Okay Grandpa."

"Isn't that better??"

"Yes, much better. Yes. Thank you."

He smiles, shakes his head, and retreats to His Chair to watch the news again.

How many times has that scene, or a variation of played out in my Grandma's kitchen? Countless. My cousins, my sister, my friends, even vague acquaintances have had "real socks" lovingly but forcefully applied to their 'bare' tootsies time after time. My Grandpa is very adamant about the virtue of socks. I do not disagree that socks are lovely, in fact, I probably wear socks more frequently than most of my relatives (sparing Grandpa, Sock Police Chief). But there is just something so touching about Grandpa forcing you into a pair of his socks in the dead of summer. Something that says, "I am incredibly stubborn about how much I care about the warmth of your feet." It's silly. It's sweet. I love it. I just do.

Since learning to knit I knew it was required that I make Grandpa a pair of real wool soldier's socks. Months ago I finally set to it: picking a pattern, researching Civil War era socks, learning magic loop, and, at last, knitting them.

I didn't finish them in time for Christmas, but I'm almost happy that I gave them to him late. They weren't lost in the shuffle of other gifts. We were able to have a special moment. Last weekend I stopped over to his house. I had just grafted the toes that morning. My heart always fills when I get to bring my son over to see his Greats, but that day it was about to burst with anticipation of giving the gift of warm socks.

How many pairs of his was I instructed to take home over the years? How many times was I chided for going bare footed? I contemplated those things with each stitch. Delighting in the simplicity of the pattern and awaiting the joy of handing them over to him. When I finally did, the reaction did not disappoint.

"You MADE these!!!"

"Yes. I did."

"And they are...are they? Real? Wool?"

"Absolutely!"

"Well I-" he stood to pull his slippers off, "I gotta put them on!!"

Later that night he called me to tell me he was still wearing them. "If you've got warm feet, your whole body is warm!!" He said they were the best socks he's ever worn. Allow my to have a moment to recollect myself. 

"You gotta make yourself some!! So your feet are warm. You need some of these. You do!!"

 This is why I knit and crochet. To be able to return a favor done to me over so many years. To show care, compassion, and just...that heart thudding stupid-smile-on-your-face feeling of giving someone something you made and having them feel so blessed by it. When it happens, it's so real. So perfect.

I am so happy that I got these done and didn't wait for next week, next month, next year. It would have been horrible to procrastinate on these socks and have Grandpa never be able to enjoy them. Share handmade love while you still have time: don't regret that unfinished object.

A Restful Week

We have been having an enjoyable, albeit snowy week here in the midwest. I've been blessed to be able to spend some time with a good friend. Even got to teach her to sew! Yes, that is a chemistry themed apron she is making. Yes, she is making it on a Hello Kitty sewing machine.

Simple pleasures.

One of the cuter moments today: Mr. E fell asleep to the sound of the sewing machine. My gosh, how cute!! It just made my heart melt. I remember doing the same thing when I was a kiddo. Listening to the methodical hum of the machine and drifting to dreamland. So lovely.

I am getting ever-closer to finishing these man-socks. I need to have them done this weekend. They are for my Grandpa and are already an incredibly late Christmas gift. I was so overjoyed when I turned the heels last week. It felt like a mega accomplishment!! Because it kind of was. I guess.

Stay warm friends!! It's cold and snowy all over, it seems!! Stay inside, drink hot cocoa, and craft up a storm.

Autumnal Adventures: My Seasonal Bucket List

I don't think I'm the only person who does this, but I make a mental bucket list of sorts for each new season as we go into it. Autumn, being my favorite season, has the longest bucket list. And so far, (although some of my staple activities can't be done since we live elsewhere) I've been doing pretty good a knocking things off the list this year...

 

 Make a giagantor pot of Chili

It's kind of cheating to count making chili as being crossed off my list, because it's something I don't actually do. Mr. Sailor is a chili-making fiend and refuses to allow me to help. It's "his thing" and I am completely happy reaping the benefits without having to input any of the labor. He even does the dishes after he makes it!! Well, some of them. Regardless, chili-making is only allowed to be done during the fall/winter, according to Sailor. Since he is the Chief Chili-Maker, I can't really argue.

This big pot of yum yums he made a couple weeks ago was a sure sign that, yes, fall had arrived. It's my unofficial official indication of the changing seasons. "Is Sailor in the mood to cook chili? Yes? Must be autumn."

Nature hikes to enjoy the colors

This one we've already done, too, but (like chili-making) it can happen several times through the season. In fact, I want to to happen several times, but if I get at least one good nature outing in, I'm somewhat less put out that there weren't more.

Out here, there isn't too much of the whole "massive riot of color" for the changing trees. I mean, some of the stuff changes colors, but it's not like the reds and oranges and yellows from back home. A fall nature hike here is most likely to include snow, if you go into the mountains like I am inclined to do.

Last Thursday, Ernest and I surprised Daddy by picking him up from work with a picnic already loaded in the back. We drove around some new neighborhoods and headed waaayyyy up into the canyons. We ended up taking a very, very bumpy dirt road up to the tip top of the Alta ski resort. There was a little parking area, and you could look down and see the whole canyon. It was beautiful, awesome, and chilly. But totally worth it.

SNOW!!!

I packed grilled salami and provolone sandwiches (on GF bread, for both of us), pasta salad made with gf corn pasta, garlic hummus and gf pretzels, and sugared raspberries. The icing on the cake? Homemade hot cocoa made with real dutch cocoa and delicious whole milk. I felt so fancy unpacking it all. Sailor was quite impressed with my picnic planning skillz.

Other important things on the autumnal bucket list:

Apple picking (done, a couple times, over at Pyper Jeans)

Apple doughnuts (gotta find GF ones!!)

Carve a pumpkin

Make The Best Ever Pumpkin Cookies

Campfire

 Collect some nice leaves

Decorate porch for fall

Canning and preserving (I could cross this off, but it's never really done)

Make socks

Get Pumpkin Shakes at Culver's 

See a Harvest moon (Coming up!!!)

What do you do each fall?

A Sweet Little Distraction...

We've been a bit distracted here, with a sweet little bundle of joy! But after four weeks, I think I'm beginning to get the hang of this motherhood thing. I joke, I joke, this is only the beginning. But little Mr. E is just about the best baby ever. I know I may be a bit biased on that topic, but really, he sleeps from 10pm-3am every night. I cannot complain at all. We've been doing some bonding and lots of cuddling and netflixing.

I have to admit, I have the best life. Truly blessed, am I.

Though we (Mr. E and I, that is) are enjoying hanging out at home doing just about nothing, I feel like it is time to reboot the good-old blog machine and share some of our lovely adventures with you all out there in internet land. Be looking forward

Our New Adventure & Apartment Thrift Scores

My dropping off the face of the internet was a bit abrupt, but I cannot bring myself to apologize for it considering all the awesome adventures in real life I've been having with Sailor as we explore our new home. I can, however, try and make it up to you who read this blog with some scenic photos and a peek at our apartment. 

As you may have gathered, we moved Out West. It is quite astounding to my silly Midwestern, flatlander brain to wake up every morning an see MOUNTAINS OUT MY WINDOW. Those of you who live in the mountains may scoff at my amazement, but I cannot help it. If you have lived in Illinois or Wisconsin for any amount of time, you understand the meaning of flat. You can see for miles in each direction. Here the only way I can achieve that is to drive up a mountain. Like, an actual mountain. With snow and stuff at the top. Like....MOUNTAIN.

 Sorry, I'm not sorry for being a tourist. Haha.

My yarn looks so cute all rainbow-ed out on the shelf. I sometimes leave the closet door opened so I can admire it when I walk by. Hahahaaaa.

Since you listened so well to my brief rant about mountains and elevation and my general amusement with geography, here's a little look at our cozy abode.

We moved out here via airplane with four 20"x20" boxes,  one large suitcase, and two carry-ons. Most of my family thought we were absolutely nuts doing this, but can I tell you, it was such a relaxing move. No insane unpacking once we got here! No moving truck to unload!! Just opening the boxes and setting stuff on shelves.

So. Liberating.

I mean, yes, we didn't have a fully equipped kitchen on Day 1. And yeah, we are still missing major pieces of furniture. But being able to just take the essentials on this move really made me realize how much excess stuff we have in our storage unit back in the Midwest. How little it takes to get by and still be comfortable. Quite enjoyable, I think.

So, since we didn't bring any furniture with us (besides the boxes themselves, which have proven to be highly versatile as dining tables, end tables, night stands, and tv stands thus far) we've been hunting around for good deals every chance we get.

Our first priority was a bed, which we bought new the first day. Next, we scored two kitchen chairs for $6/each at the thrift shop. A week later, we got a somewhat matching table for $30 and a very heavy, very boxy TV for $15. Sailor brought his Xbox along, so we've been able to watch some movies on our "ancient" television.

Side note: that table barely fit in our car, even with the legs off. We are convinced that things look smaller in the store. There must be a perception filter or something weird like that. 

As you may notice, we don't have a couch yet. Since we got a nice TV stand thingy (for $15!! YES!!) and have moved the TV from its bedroom perch on a box to it's new position in the living room, I've been getting a bit creative with sitting options. Above is a demonstration of my use of a pool floaty and a crib pad (from the adorable bedding set my mother-in-law sent us for the baby) to make a base on which I pile all the pillows and blankets to make a sort of poof nest. My sister and I used to "make nests" when we were kids, and it seems that the skills are still proving to be useful. 

Our TV and our TV stand. Note the tractors displayed on the top shelf.

 As much as Sailor tries to make me wait a bit until we get the couch before going completely nuts with decorating and "floofing" the apartment, I could not resist these little candle holders. They are just too cute, right? And for $2/each, I didn't break the bank. You cannot deny the nesting instinct!! It's strong!!

There is so much to do and so much to explore out here, it's easy to neglect furnishing the apartment for a while. Maybe in a week or so I'll have more progress pictures to show as far as the apartment goes, but for now, I am just so content with relaxing, meeting new friends, and rambling around this uncharted territory.

We hopped on an airplane...

....and moved across the country.