I'm A Little Teapot....

 

Ridiculousness knows no bounds. I started to crochet a miniature tea set and lost interest after the teapot. Now I'm too much of a hoarder to throw it away. Anyone want a crocheted miniature teapot?

One friend who saw the photo on Facebook inquired whether it would be suitable for her fairy house.  I offer the following two photos for purposes of scale:

A Plug for Jessica

I helped out at a friend's wedding by making bouttonieres for the groomsmen and a corsage for the mother of the bride.  You may recall the wedding where I did the bouquets a few years ago in this blog (key word "weddings").  The groom at this wedding was the brother of the bride at that wedding and when he got engaged, he told me he was counting on me doing the flowers.  This was right before my surgery, so I told him he'd better find someone else.  As it turned out, though, I was able to a little bit with the corsages (photos below).

But what was really adorable at this wedding were the program place cards at each place on the dinner tables.  Unfortunately, my cell phone photo cannot do it justice.  I found out they were done by Jessica Marcotte, an absolutely fabulous designer for parties and such who works out of the bay area.  You can find her blog here.  Check it out!

Father of the Bride

Mother of the Bride

Groomsman

I'm Back!

 

I've been gone a while, Friends.  Mostly I've been rather incapacitated and in too much pain to tend to my blog.  My right hip had been displaced since childbirth, unbeknownst to me, and after a fall and an injury back in 2008, it became obvious what was happening.

I had total hip replacement in March and I am still recovering, but as you can see by my photo taken at a wedding last week, I am free of pain and suffering!  I haven't felt this good, well, ever!

I've been busy with crochet projects on and off when I could manage, and I've posted a few of them here.  I'll try to be more diligent in future about keeping this blog updated.

Lap Robe for Mrs. H

I found a huge lot of crocheted afghan squares at an estate sale recently and this is the first product resulting from those squares.  It is a lap robe for my friend Linda's mother.  I did not crochet these, obviously.  All I did was join them and crochet a border.

Emma's blankie

 

I saw Baby Emma for the first time live last Friday.  She's so tiny, I hope they use this blanket as a stroller cover until she grows into it, or else she may get lost in it.

Orion's blankie

 

This is the longest baby gift I have ever created.  The "baby" in question is about 2 now, I think.  Orion's mom and dad are scientists.  I mean real scientists.  His dad worked on a project involving dust that came from Saturn.  I mean, really!  How many people can say that?

Anyway, way back when his mother was expecting, I heard rumors that the baby's name, although they were keeping it a secret, had something to do with The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and I got this great idea to applique symbols from the book onto the blanket I was making.  I planned a goldfish and a porpoise and that funny little face with the skinny little arms and the tongue hanging out and a "Don't Panic" button and some mice with a teapot and....

It got so complicated I knew I'd never finish it.  So when the baby was born and they announced his name was Orion, I got another great idea!  I'd applique stars on the blanket in the shape of the constellation Orion.

That was a great idea until I found out how many stars are actually in the constellation Orion!  I had no idea!  It's not at all what you see on the Orion Pictures film headers.

Then I got to thinking.  Of course, that's when all great ideas stall, when someone gets to thinking.

These guys are scientists.  They're going to know if the stars are out of alignment.  I was so obsessed with my artistic license, I couldn't finish the blanket.

Other babies and baby gifts came and went and I thought sure the parents thought I was snubbing them or something.

Finally, I spoke to a mutual friend who told me to get over it and just finish the blanket already!

So I did.  I took a lot of artistic license and the constellation is probably only recognizable to me, but at least I finished it before he grew out of it completely.  I think.  I'm going to give it to them this Sunday.  If they are at all offended by the poorly crafted constellation, they're polite enough to keep it to themselves, I'm sure.

My Review of Buffalo plaid mega tunic

Originally submitted at WomanWithin

This amazing mega tunic is easy to wear, soft and cozy...and fashionably plaid. We provide the finest plus size tunics and plus size plaid tops for the price.

• A-line shape
• Button placket
• Mandarin collar
• Rich pintucking
• 32" lo...

Buffalo plaid mega tunic

Love It!

By Myownigloo from San Francisco on 11/19/2010

 

5out of 5

Sizing: Feels true to size

Pros: Great Color, Figure Flattering, Quality Materials, Versatile, Washes Well

Best Uses: Travel, Casual Wear, Work

Since I was a schoolgirl, Autumn has meant plaid in the wardrobe. I love this plaid tunic so much I got it in two colors and two sizes (because I'm losing weight and want to wear it when I get to the next size down). Comfortable, gorgeous, just like the photo.

(legalese)

Giants Rock!

Testing remote blog posting.

Labor of Love

I cannot believe it took me seven months to find the time to get back here after I reported back in December 2009.  http://squcps.blogspot.com/2009/12/radio-silence.html

The least I can do is show everyone what I'd been working on all that time I was gone.  (It's actually been finished a few months now, but I'm catching up with the rest of my life and since my osteoarthritis has taken all the cartillage out of one of my hips, I'm cane dependent and very slow.  Everything takes longer than it used to, so my time is even more precious.)

But here are photos of the friendship afghan that I assembled.  I'm sorry they aren't the best quality photos because I used my cell phone in bad light.  Still they do give the general impression of the project.

First are photos of the work in progress.  I crocheted a navy blue frame around each square so that they would more easily line up.  Then I laid out the squares on the bed until I was satisfied they would make a balanced presentation.  I had help from Booger, who was quick to take her place as project supervisor whenever she saw the squares coming out of their package.  The lirtle pieces of paper contain names of the maker of each square.

Following are photos of the final product with the name tags removed and all squares framed and assembled.  Each square was knitted or crocheted by an online friend of the recipient, a young woman widowed much too soon. It was our wish to comfort her in whatever way we could, and this was the result. Some of the squares have significance to her because they are reminiscent of her husband's likes, such as the center Tetris board.

Bastille Day Story

I know it's been a while.

Someday I'll have to catch up with y'all and let you know where I've been and what I've been doing.

Someday.

Meanwhile, stop me if I've told this before.


Whenever Bastille Day rolls around, I always remember my trip to Paris when I was 17.

I was traveling with a church youth group to England in 1970. It was quite a momentous trip in many, many respects. I had never flown before. We had gotten a charter on the first 747 plane to cross the Atlantic -- the return flight to Paris. In Paris, we had a 24-hour layover before we went on to Heathrow. It was so exciting!

I was 17. Besides one other girl on the trip, who was 15 or 16 at the time, no one spoke French. And our claims to "speaking French" were quite nebulous, especially since this was Paris where we learned that the French spoken is analagous to the American English spoken in the Bronx. We couldn't understand a word!

But we were so determined to use our French in possibly the only 24-hour period of our lives when we'd have the opportunity, that we just kept trying.

Because of the time zone difference, we arrived at our hotel in Paris at about dinnertime on our biological clocks, but it was after midnight there.

My friend the Freshman in French and I, the Junior, roomed together. We were wide awake as Paris was shutting down. We occupied ourselves by laundering our delicates in the "funny little sink in the bathroom" and then writing letters on the little balcony. So romantic! We were in our pj's and bathrobes. It was 2:00 a.m. local time and most of the hotel staff was leaving the hotel, their shifts having concluded.

Two young men saw us sitting on the balcony and called up to us to come down and join them! OMG! What do we say?

We closed the French doors and consulted each other. How do you say "Go away?" Ummmm. Don't know.

"Um" (me), "let's tell them to 'Come back tomorrow!'"

(Her): "Great idea!"

We opened the French doors and peered out, saying, "Come --"

-- and before I could say "back tomorrow," in my faulty French, they entered the hotel and came up to our room and started banging on the door!

OMG. Turn off the lights! Shut the door! Be quiet! Don't answer! They'll go away.

Then went back downstairs and outside and counted the windows (we peeked through the curtain with the lights still out).

They came back up and started banging on the door again!

OMG!

Then we got another great idea! We should use Morse code and knock S-O-S on the wall between our room and the one next door, summoning two strapping young men from our high school to rescue us.

I took a shoe and started knocking. The French guys went down stairs and started counting windows again. They came back up.

I stepped out on the balcony and the guys next door stepped out on theirs.

"Jo Anne, this is your own stupid fault. You should never have talked to those guys in the first place! And by the way, that wasn't S-O-S you were tapping, you idiot."

They went back inside.


So much for chivalry.

Well, eventually the French guys went away, but not after waking the entire hotel. (We learned later that one of the high school guys went down and went out drinking with them.)

Next morning while my girlfriend and I were having our petit dejeuner of croissants and cafe au lait, the Methodist minister who was the leader of the youth group came over to our table. Without even asking us what had happened, he said, "You girls are forbidden to speak French for the rest of the trip."

"But, Rev!"

"No buts. No French. Period."

Well, then it was time for our tour of Paris. We soon learned that our tour was taking place on Bastille Day and that on Bastille Day, all Parisians leave the city and go picnicking in the country. The place closes down! We saw the Louvre from the outside. From the tour bus, we saw the Arche de Triomphe and the outside of the Tour d'Eiffel because they were -- well, outside. Other than that, we were spoken rudely to by anyone we met except in one little cafe where we stopped for ice cream. (The BEST coffee ice cream I ever tasted in my life.) There I surreptitiously spoke a little French with the waiter until I saw one of the adults giving me the evil eye.

Finally, it was time to go to the airport. The minister was having a hard time understanding the tour guide and apparently the gates had been changed for our departure. The tour guide was trying to direct the minister where he should go and he couldn't find all the English words. He answered a question of the minister's in French and the minister turned to my girlfriend and me and said, "What did he say?"

You know those times when you remember later what you should have done or said and then kick yourself?

This wasn't one of those times. We'd been carrying this grudge for over 12 Whole Hours!

My girlfriend and I looked at each other, then turned back to look at the minister, shrugged our shoulders and said in unison, "I don't know, Rev. I can't speak a word of French."

Happy Bastille Day, Everyone!