Winnign Chinches

Yesterday I saw this sign taped to an old orange couch on the sidewalk with the trash. I asked my Dominican friend what it says. You guessed it: "chinches" are bedbugs.

Doll Carriers Coming Soon!

I've been working oh-so-hard these past few weeks on two things that are 100 % related to this cuteness:

I'll soon be posting a free, downloadable pattern and tutorial for the above doll carrier (pictured above on Lucy who had so much fun running around in it yesterday). AND (this is a first for me!) I'll be opening my own Etsy store soon to sell doll carriers for those too lazy to make their own. Kidding, of course. I friggin' hope you're all too lazy to make your own.

Both (pattern and purchasable carriers) will be available with lots of time before the holidays.

Cowichan Sweater Makeover

When I was a kid growing up on Vancouver Island (hereafter referred to as "The Island" as Islanders call it), we were forced to wear itchy but unbelievably warm "Cowichan" sweaters, which are either knit by, or based on patterns created by, the native band on the Island. The distinctive hand-knit Cowichan sweaters are knit from thick wool in natural colours — brown, grey, cream and black — like the one pictured at left. They generally have geometric repeating patterns or simple animal designs. Authentic Cowichan sweaters (usually knit by Cowichan women) are expensive to buy new because they're knit by hand. (Which I totally understand: If I knit a sweater by hand and sold it, I'd have to sell it for about $3,000 to make it worthwhile. Knitting takes so freaking long.)

Cowichan sweaters are also bulky by definition because the yarn used to create them is so thick and dense. That's what makes these sweaters so warm. A Cowichan sweater is about all you need to withstand the mild winters where I grew up.

Lately I've been nostalgiac for a Cowichan sweater. There's something very ugly-yet-pretty about a nice Cowichan sweater that says "Screw it, I'm going to be warm. Too bad for you if you can't see my boobs." But, of course, living in New York City and being on a there's-still-a-recession-going-on budget, there's no way for me to find my own used Cowichan. I could knit my own, but (as earlier noted) that would take me until 2012. A quick scan on eBay turns up a few nice examples of authentic Cowichan sweaters — not cheap — and a whole bunch of factory-produced Cowichan-style sweaters that sellers also refer to as "Lebowski sweaters."

Lucky for me, I have great friends. And lovely Sarah found me the above sweater at a thrift store in Victoria. It wasn't super cheap but a steal compared to buying one new, or investing the time to make my own. Many Cowichan sweaters are cardigan-style, with a zipper closure in the front. After trying on this one, I remembered why: they're so hot! And you need to be able to open up the front so you don't die of heat stroke. Coupled with some inspiration from this great blog Grosgrain, whose author teaches how to turn a regular sweater into a cardigan, I decided to have a little faith in my abilities and turn my Cowichan into a cardigan so I could get on with wearing it already.

 

The Results 

It wasn't easy, and all the while I was chanting in my head "measure twice, cut once" — the mantra of carpenters and anyone slicing into something that could entirely unravel with one false move. All I used to make the transformation was some double-fold bias tape and a bunch of buttons. I decided against putting in a zipper because I didn't think my sewing machine could handle it. The sweater is really thick and I had to really ram it through to get the feed to work.

I also took in the sides somewhat to get a less boxy fit. I'm hoping to buy a real camera soon to improve upon the photos I post here (and portraits of my daughter). Law & Order SVU scouted our apartment this week for a shoot later this month and I'm hoping to convince my husband to invest our compensation in a quality camera. More sweater:

This has nothing to do with sewing

I'm terribly proud of my two-year-old when she says please, thank-you and you're welcome without any prompting from me or my husband. But even closer to my heart than her precocious politeness is her sense of humour. Just 27 months old and she's already mastered the spoof song. She's a regular Baby Yankovic. A sampling:

— "A spoonful of poop makes the medicine go down.."
— "Hey poop, don't be a poop. Take a sad poop and make it poo-oo-oop..."
— And, of course: "Twinkle, twinkle, little poop.."

I don't want to pigeonhole the girl at such a young age, but I think her genre is really potty-training-meets-Mad-Libs. Her set list would kill on the birthday party circuit.

She also has originals. Like "The Nipple Song," which goes like this: "I want to pinch, pinch. I want to pinch, pinch. I want to pinch, pinch...Mommy!"

Of course, poop and boobs are very funny.  But it can really wear you down when your boobs are the butt (heh heh) of every joke your toddler makes. Whenever I take my shirt off to change or whatever, she points at me and says, "heh heh...boobs," just like Beavis and Butthead, a pop-culture reference she's about 20 years too young for.

The funniest things kids say are often totally unrepeatable unless you're in the company of other parents who totally understand that kids are just absurd and super crude. Like the other night when I was having a bath with her (parentless friends: we're not actually a super nude hippie family. This is something you must do from time to time...say, when your toddler refuses to get in the bath even though she repeatedly ran her spaghetti-sauce-covered hands through her long blond hair during supper and she looks like Carrie — not Bradshaw, that one from the '70s covered in pig's blood). So we're in the tub and when she pokes my boob, lifting it up slightly,  I say, "What exactly are you doing, young lady?" Her reply: "I'm looking for food. Rice cakes and Snap Pea Crisps." Beat. Laughter (hers).

Now, no lady wants the kind of boobs capable of hiding stray Snap Pea Crisps. Remember in (the animated version of the graphic novel) Persepolis when two women are talking about how to tell if your boobs are crap or not: stick a pencil under your breasts. If it falls, they're great. If you can hide a bag of Snap Pea Crisps under them, you're outta luck, old lady.

Of course, she only has herself to blame.

I'm working on a new pattern today for something very fun. AND I'm going to have another giveaway very soon, though I don't want to kill the excitement by revealing any details just yet. Stay tuned.

Halloween Hangover

A friend of mine recently posted a comment asking why I never post pics of my husband, Ryan. Well, here he is, giving Lucy a shoulder ride on the way to a birthday party/Halloween extravaganza in our neighbourhood yesterday. There will be no pictures of me frolicking with my little Max because I have a Hitler mustache coldsore right now (that is, a coldsore directly under my nose that gives me a somewhat Hitlerish look at first glance). Having a Hitler mustache coldsore is a mixed blessing. It really makes you appreciate how you normally look. It's also a good time to think about people in the world who have real problems. That's because a Hitler mustache coldsore is what I like to call a "First World Problem." Calling it that helps me to just get over myself for the moment. Not enough to actually post a picture of myself with a Hitler mustache coldsore. But enough to actually go out to a Halloween party. (Do you admire me for my strength?)

Anyway, Halloween was great fun. Also, 173 people have downloaded my Max costume pattern over at Burdastyle.com, and the 15-month-old winner of my Max giveaway received his handmade costume in time for Halloween in St. John's, Newfoundand. Apparently his parents are going to have a hard time taking it off him. Also, I have a Texan friend who thinks Newfoundland sounds like a place fairies might live. I've never been (NL is a long way from my home and native land on the west coast of Canada), but that sounds about right.