Glamour Photo of a Rug

This rug is made out of the worst yarn I have ever held between my two fingers.  The yarn was on sale at a ridiculously low price and the colours were so cute I bought six balls.  I was thinking of a cute hat I could make or a baby blanket, but once I started working with it, I realized that it was crap … and it was taking up a considerable chunk of space in my yarn box (I’m only allowed to have one yarn box (no clutter policy)). 

What could I do with the unspeakable crap? 

So, I got the idea to make a rug out of it.  A lady I knew when I was in high school who used to gather crappy yarn and make the most beautiful rugs.  She made one that looked like a sunflower and another one that looked like a watermelon slice.  Granted, this is not like that.  You have to have a lot more yarn to do what that knit-witch used to do.  But I needed a little rug for my two piece bathroom, so here it is. 

Here’s what you do to make a rug.  First, chain it.  Chain all of it.  The yarn I used and other useless yarn is too thin to be a rug unless you chain it.  When you’re done chaining it, get a BIG crochet hook.  I used a 6mm for the chain and a 9mm for the rug, but I have made rugs with hooks as big as 11mm.  Then with your BIG crochet hook – make a rug. 

I’m sorry.  I know that’s not particularly descriptive, but the reason I crochet rather than knit is because I can’t be bothered to follow a set of instructions.  I like crochet because it’s all about lying your face off. You can really just make it up as you go and it will probably turn out all right.

Recently I got a DIY craft feed on my phone and there are a lot of cute DIY projects that people post.  The only problem with them is that you have to go to the store and buy A, B, C, D, E, F, G and I’m like, “Why would I wanna do that?”  What I want to do is have supplies A, Y, H, W, B … sit there for a while and then LIGHT BULB – I am inspired!  I’m gonna do <fill in blank> and it’s going to be awesome!

It’s great when it works out that way.  If feel like it did with my little rug.  Well, I may do another post about it after I run it through the washer.  Eek!

Snap! The Four-Letter Word

I don’t really sew, but I do mend things.  After a button on a man’s dress shirt, the easiest thing in the world to replace is a snap.  However, on a new garment, they are probably considerably easier to install than a string of buttons (and their holes), or a zipper, or Velcro.  Yet, even though I know this, I have decided something …

Snaps suck!

Seriously, have you ever dressed a baby that has five snaps going down the front of their undershirt, followed by three snaps that either do up between the legs or on the tummy, followed by a sleeper that has six or seven more?  Urg! … Huff, huff, huff … I know what you’re thinking and I agree with you.  Snaps are hardly something to get riled up about … unless it’s three-thirty in the morning, you’ve just changed a poopy diaper in the dark because your eyes are as dilated as Golem’s when he lived in the cave, and you’ve just done the snaps up wrong three times in a row.  What else could make a sane person snap?  Seriously.

Well, I haven’t been living like that for some time.  I gave up snaps years ago, but I forgot about my unquenchable hatred toward them until recently.  I was lately reminded why I need to pass on the torch to new parents.  Newborn babies need to have their diaper changed between six and ten times a day.  If you take it for granted that you will need to change their diaper eight times a day (the average) and multiply it by the eight snaps on the undershirt and the six snaps on the sleeper – you will do up ONE HUNDRED SNAPS in a single day.  You’ll get callouses on your right hand forefinger and thumb by the end of one week.

So, here’s my advice to new parents: fork out the money for zippered sleepers. Then you only have to do up eight zippers a day.  Quite the difference, isn’t it?  My other advice is to forget all about undershirts that snap between the legs.  I buy ones that go down to the bellybutton and then stop.  That way you don’t have to muck with them each and every time you change a diaper. 

Now, I must warn you.  There are times when you’ll be tempted.  The sleepers with snaps on them will have unbelievably cute penguins on them, or kitties, or green aliens with three eyes.  Remind yourself firmly that it doesn’t matter what the confounded thing looks like at three o’clock in the morning.  You won’t be able to see it anyway.  You may also be tempted by the low price.  That’s a harder battle for me to win, but I came off conqueror eventually – and so can you.

In conclusion: zippers good J snaps bad L

Skeletons in my Closet

The other day I sat down and realized that I have nine closets in my house.  Nine!  I was absolutely floored.  It was quickly followed by a series of anxiety inducing thoughts.  1. That doesn’t count the pantry, the storage room, or the tops of several high places where I like to stash things.  2. Each one of those nine closets is disheveled or outright messy.  3. I hide things in one of them and have to hip-chuck the door to get it to close.  Sheesh.  It’s a good thing I’m Canadian.

The biggest problem is that nine closets is a lot to tackle.  And I’m short.  Okay, I’m not really short, but I’m short enough that when I put on a pair of high heels and walk through my house I realized that I’ve missed an entire aspect of dusting because I’m too short to see all the dusty surfaces 6–10 cm higher up.  It also means that the top shelf of each closet is basically impossible for me to see without a double-step stool.    

It’s really pathetic. 

What makes it more pathetic is that I like throwing things away.  Every time I go into one of my kids’ rooms, I take away at least one more bag of garbage than what was in their garbage can.  Why can’t I get that kind of control over a closet?  A closet is a twentieth the size of a room.  Why am I such a weenie?

I’ll tell you why.  Big stuff.  You can’t throw big stuff in the garbage in Edmonton.  If you want to throw away something big, you have take it to the Eco Center.  Have you ever driven past an Eco Center in Edmonton on a Saturday?  It’s like someone put a huge ‘Everything is Free’ sign on top of a Tim Horton’s.  And the lineups in front of Timmy’s are colossal every day of the week.  In front of the Eco Center – they wrap outside the parking lot and down the block on a street where the speed limit is 60 km/h.

So, the things clogging my closets aren’t small stuff.  They’re huge, and useless and dead … almost like … dare I say it?  Skeletons. 

Yes.  That is what they are like.  I’ve got bedside tables that don’t have legs on them anymore, TVs that don’t turn on, scanners (too many scanners), old speakers, silk plants with all the leaves ripped off them, and computer parts (too many computer parts).  You know what – the advancement of the smart phone will save millions.  And when I say millions, I mean millions of square centimeters in everyone’s closets.  Even if you have ten smart phone carcasses in your closet, they won’t take up more space than a box of Kleenex.

Hurricane Hana

Today is my promotion for Hurricane Hana by Jandy Branch.  It's available on Amazon.com for $2.93.  Here's the synopsis.

It’s a new clean, lighthearted series from “Parakeet Princess” author, Jandy Branch. Set once again in the small, Mormon town of Upton in the 1990s but populated by a brand new cast of characters, this is the story of Hana Song. She’s lived all she can remember of her life in an apartment on Main Street, over her parents’ restaurant. Now in her final year of high school, Hana is ready for something exciting to happen in her quiet world. And that’s just what she gets when a new guy appears in her chemistry class. Nolon’s parents have “parachuted” him into Upton to let him start over after getting into trouble with the law. But the law is everywhere. In Upton, it takes the form of new police trainee and recently returned missionary, Tyler Bowen. He’s just come home after spending two years in Korea and he’s drawn to Hana and her Korean immigrant parents. And he’s worried the person behind a mysterious, racially motivated crime against the Song family might just be Nolon himself.

 

I've got to say, as a fan of Korean dramas, if you're a fan - you'll like this novel.  Jandy's best quality as an author is knowing how to get her heroine in a heap of trouble, fishing her out ... only to land her in more trouble.  I love that.  This is an excellent read.  Go get it today!

Things I Don't Know

I know.  You could probably fill a book with the things I don’t know, but there are some things that I don’t understand no matter how they’re explained to me or how often.  I must have a mental block somewhere.

One of them is the rules of Rook.  I have to have the rules to this card game explained to me every single time I play.  I absolutely cannot remember them, and Rook isn’t the only game I can’t remember the rules to.  If I didn’t learn the rules before I was 8 years old, it’s all over.  So, yes, I still remember how to play Monopoly and Scrabble (I love Scrabble), but I need a refresher course for pretty much everything else.  It’s a good thing I married a man who likes to read the rule books.

I also don’t understand why anyone buys canned pineapple.  If you compare the price of a real pineapple from the produce department with a big old can of pineapple, the prices are almost the same.  The difference is that one of them tastes like heaven and the other one tastes like it’s been soaked in syrup indefinitely.  I’m told people buy the canned stuff because they’re too lazy or don’t understand how to cut up a real pineapple.  But it still doesn’t make sense to me. 

And women who buy their jewelry from the same store they bought their sweater from.  That doesn’t make sense.  When I’m in a woman’s clothing store, yes, I do see the racks of accessories.  Yes, they are there, but the necklaces and earrings are made of plastic and stainless steel.  They’re also ridiculously overpriced.  And did I mention that they are made of plastic?  Plastic.  Why would a grown woman go out in public with plastic beads around her neck unless it was a necklace made by her daughter?  It’s not that I’m necessarily very hoity-toity about the value of the jewelry I wear; I would just rather go out wearing no jewelry at all than wear plastic.  Plastic!

People who sew their own clothes confuse me, too.  Unless you’re making something extraordinarily unique, then I don’t get it.  I understand making your own prom dress, or your own wedding dress, and a few other kinds of dresses (dresses are kind of a hard number to hit), but other stuff?  Pants?  Shirts?  Vests?  When I go to the fabric store, I am shocked and slightly embarrassed by how much they are charging for fabric.  I bet the price of the fabric plus the price of the notions will be higher than what you’d pay for whatever it is from a shop down the street.  Not to mention that sewing seems to take a lifetime and has a very strong possibility of never getting done at all.

So, yeah, there’s some stuff I don’t get.  Maybe someday.

Town Rat, Country Rat

I grew up in a small town.  I moved to the city when I became an adult and I have pretty much been a city dweller ever since, but occasionally, I find myself back in small towns from time to time and the culture shock is really … intense.

For one thing, I do not find that country people have better manners than city people.  I also don’t find that city people have better fashion sense than country people.  Bear in mind – this is Canada. 

The thing that shocks me is what they seem to think of each other.  For one thing, city people who have escaped their hometown seem to be endlessly congratulating themselves on the achievement.  Is it really that amazing that you rented out an apartment in the city, then rented out a house in the city, and finally bought a house in the city?  Likewise, people who have not left the small town are also endlessly congratulating themselves on that.  Is it really that impressive that you never moved out?

For my own part, I can see the advantages of both and the disadvantages of both.  I always feel claustrophobic in the city.  I live on a fairly open street where people have backyards, front yards and sometimes even … dare I say it?  Side yards.  And I’m still deprived of sky.  I am hardly acquainted with any of my neighbours and have to drive for at least 15 minutes to get to a friend’s house.  When I lived in a small town, I could tell you who lived in almost every house.  It was easy to remember since you canvased for the Heart and Stroke Foundation regularly.  In the city, I still do volunteer work, but I hardly ever meet anyone.  And people move all the time.

In a small town, yeah – gardening is the limit.  I love gardening and there are huge lots to tend (maybe almost too big).  But nothing ever happens there.  The cultural happenings like theatre productions and festivals are downright laughable.  No opera in Italian there.  No international celebrations of anything.  No pizza delivery.  And sadly, no money.  The economy doesn’t exactly rock in those little places.  But it’s a five minute walk to the grocery store instead of a five minute drive and all your favourite stores are beside each other because it’s a small place.

Occasionally, I hear of people who were from a small town and never got over wanting it (forced into the city for university).  They’ve been plotting and planning for years to get back to that big sky and those enormous yards.  It’s the money problem that holds them back.  It holds me back too, but I think I finally might have switched over to the dark side – the city side.  Except it’s curious because I can’t explain why.  It’s a coin toss.