Feathering My Nest

I'm taking a piece of advice from my mom. Shhhhh! Don't tell her!

My mom is very talented. When I was little, she tole painted (oil paint on wood). I found this duck in one of her sheds and confiscated it for my kitchen. It doesn't actually match at all (perhaps it was originally made to go in Grams' cornpowder blue kitchen?) but do I care? I do not care. Not at all. I love it!
She's a gifted drawer, too. Pen and ink stuff. She never paints or draws. Hasn't in years. But she quit smoking almost four months ago (go mommy go!!!! I'm so proud!!!) and, in a fit of needing something to do with her hands, she's been crocheting non-stop.

The first thing she made (and this was before she quit smoking), was a huge white yarn-quilt for her bed. She was so angry at that thing! I think she finished it out of spite. When it's on her bed, if you tell her you like it, she will growl and tell you it "I hate that bastard".

Then I showed her how to make a rag rug using thrifted sheets. She went insane! She made about two dozen. I ended up with a few of them. She was really mad about that. Holy. I begged her for the one in my bedroom, and she was all, "Absolutely not! Get away!" I left empty-handed, but the next time I saw her she threw it at me and yelled, "Don't ever ask me for anything again. Ever!" Which, I'm sorry, if you know my mom, it's just so funny. What do you say to that??? "Thanks" seems so...inadequate? unnecessary? Yeesh.

My mom is making a blanket right now.

Me: Who's that for?
Her: I don't know.
Me: Are you keeping it?
Her: I don't know!
Me: Are you going to give it away?
Her: Mia! I. Don't. Know.

Now mind you, she won't even look up when she's saying this. She just hooks away, all hunched over, cursing at her yarn. Really, she does not make it seem like a fun hobby at all. But anyway, the point is, I don't think I have ever made anything that I didn't know where it was going. First of all, I like thinking about the intended recipient while I'm doing the work.

But the main thing is...I don't really make things for myself, or my own house, or my own kids. Isn't that...odd? I've been trying to change that in little ways...I've crocheted my own dish rags lately. Last summer I made a little pouch for our park passes. For Christmas two years ago I "made" fleece blankets for The Boys (have you seen these? You cut fringe, and tie two layers together? It's not rocket science!) but that's kind of it. Isn't that so peculiar?!?

I was working on a blanket I've been making for Erik, and it came up in conversation with my mom. She responded in a typical fashion.

Me: You know, I never make stuff for myself.
Her: That's stupid.
Me: I mean, I love to make things, and then I almost always give them away.
Her: I wouldn't.
Me: Sometimes, even when I start out making something I think I'll use, if somebody likes it I'll give it to them.
Her: Don't do that.

Alrighty, then.

Here is a list of things I'm currently working on:

Embroidery that I am currently thinking will be made into a curtain or valance for my kitchen window.

Erik's blanket.

Purses to test Alice's pattern draft. Oh yes, these are mine!!



A felt and embroidered tea pot cozy. For my Grandma Dot's beautiful old tea pot!



A knitted shawl, using some of the yarn my mom brought back from Wyoming from a sheep farm she visited.

My weaving sampler on my loom ~ almost done!! I keep thinking it's almost done, but I need to confess that I have no idea how far this warp will go. : /

Of course I did put all of these projects on hold to make a very happy blanket for one of my favorite 5 year olds, but that's okay...I'm sure that will happen again before it's all said and done! But really, it just feels so right to start feathering my own nest.