Art on the Green or Crap on the Grass, you pick

One of my favorite events of the year in this area is an event called "Art on the Green"In conjunction with AOTG, there's two other events happening the same weekend all within walking distance of each other - if not within the tolerance limits of a 7 year old boy-The Taste of the Coeur d'Alenes and the Downtown Sherman Street Fair. All of which lend themselves to several irreverent nicknames-crap on the grass/junk on the lawn/shit on sherman. This is why they do not let me name events. They don't even let me describe pictures for publications at work. Their descriptions are things like "Bob and Sue stroll along the picturesque beachfront enjoying the shade of the 100 year old evergreens that line the Dike Road." When I write captions as space holders it ends up more like "Two dumbasses walking the wrong way down the street under a bunch of trees wearing what could only loosely be described as appropriate clothing." This is why they have writers and I just have to put the pictures and the text in some sort of readable format. Yay, graphic designers!

What this says about me marrying a writer? Apparently it wasn't just for his charming good looks and his ability to wash dishes.

Back to Art on the Green. This year I found this beautiful little glass bauble that caught my eye and wouldn't let it go. The artist was patient enough to explain to Boybat how he made these solid glass globes that had layers of colors and shapes in them that seemed to defy the physical space it occupied, but in Boybat terms. It was obviously a ploy to free me up to look around. 10 minutes I stood there staring in this glass ball before I put it down and walked away. Didn't get more than two booths away before I told Joe we had to turn around and buy it because it needed to be in our home. After the "incident"-where another piece of art wanted to come home with me, he said no way, and I pouted about it every year we went back and saw that artists work get out of our price range-he just turned around and led the way back to the booth. It's like having my own little universe.

I've had a few "finishes" since I last checked in.

Finished up Lizzie Kate's Snowman. I obsessed about this pattern for a while. It was the colors that made me want to stitch it, but I was "eh" about the subject matter. I don't like to do "seasonal" patterns because I like to put my finished pieces up on the wall year round. Finally told myself, "Hell with that, I can put whatever I want on my wall." Hence the second finish, Shepherd's Bush Green Snowman. They both have buttons I still have to sew, but that's not happening 'til I'm ready to have them framed.

Halle-freakin'-luja, I got Lo How a Rose done and did a little dance  that was mainly me pumping my fist in the air singing "Suck on it you f'ing project from Hell, I win!" Unfortunately, boy bat was in the next room and informed me that those were bad words.

I'm pretty sure that he's going to end up being the kid in Catholic school that teaches the other kids all the curse words and I'll be getting a call from his teacher asking if I was the one who taught him to swear in whole sentences. Oh well, it's a family tradition.

Brain Monkeys Win Again

While we were on our Seattle adventure, I got to stop at a little cross-stitch/needlepoint store in Issaquah, WA called Threadneedle Street. Every time I go in there and look at the gorgeous hand-painted canvases on the wall I consider trying needlepoint. Then, what Joe refers to as the "brain monkeys," beat that idea with a stick until it goes away ("brain monkeys" are what you have when there's so many things going on inside your head that you can't think. "Brain Gorillas" carry much bigger sticks). Eventually, I figured out that they're like the ones you see in the movies. You know the ones, locked in cages, infected with some deadly zombie virus and then "somehow" let loose on an unwitting population. Now you know why I'm like this. 

I picked up a couple nice pieces of linen and a few patterns that I mentioned earlier. Including one that I didn't even know I wanted. It was done on a gorgeous green linen that called to me...."Heaaathher, buy me, I'm greeeeeen." No seriously, my car, 40% of my clothes, Lunch bags, umbrellas, mugs, almost everything in my studio. They're all spring green. I can't help it, it's an addiction. 

I also had some time to work on a small sampler I bought almost 10 years ago. It's an Ewe & Eye & Friends pattern called Nancy's Sampler. It's going pretty fast and I'm hoping to finish it this weekend, barring any family drama and or trauma.

Could have been worse

Made a bit of progress with Lo How a Rose this weekend. This after distracting myself with a trip to the cross stitch store in Spokane. As usual, I went to get one thing, and walked out with another project and all that goes with it. I was especially thrilled that I managed to get out for under $30 when my average visit is around $70.

Nothing good can come from power tools and liquor

There's only one power tool in our house. A drill. Okay, a drill and a Dremel tool I got for craft stuff. So, two power tools in our house. Neither Joe or I are inclined to build things. It usually ends up with us not speaking to each other and a dresser with upside down drawers. We've accepted that we should never assemble things together unless counseling and liquor are involved (the same thing with furniture moving, nothing good comes from furniture moving). Even then, should liquor, bad carpentry skills and power tools be combined?

So imagine my trepidation when Boybat came home with his pinewood derby car.

I thought at least the damn thing would be vaguely car shaped–add some paint, some stickers and call it good. Noooo, It's a freakin' rectangular block of wood with 4 nails and some wheels. What the hell Boy Scouts? I'm not letting a 7 year old loose with a hand saw and a block of wood.

There's not much you can do to a block of wood with a drill to make it look like a car.

After Boybat and I got as far as we were going to get with the hand saw, Elmer's glue and a Dremel tool, I got to settle in for some stitching this weekend.

I put a pretty good dent in the as yet unnamed project that I've been working on. I decided to back stitch a few of the flowers just to see if I like the shapes. I'm still trying to decide if I prefer the medium pink or the dark pink back stitching on the large flowers.

Another finish!

WooHoo! Another finish!

I designed and started this when Boybat was 3. It was about then that I stopped cross stitching for a few years. Apparently, at that age, he was not nearly as self sufficient as I thought he should be, and required me to do things like feed, clothe and nurture him. This put a serious dent in the "me" time that I keep reading about in magazines that I wont admit to reading because they make me feel old and responsible.

I took this pattern back up again this summer after discovering it in a long lost basket of household flotsam. Since then, it would get put aside in favor of other projects, mainly other projects that didn't have red or blue floss in them. Friday, I finished up the last 45 minutes of stitching and can declare it done.  

Now I can start another project without feeling guilty.

Rip it out

Today I am frustrated with premade kits. Its like that some days. 

I've been working on the Shepherd's Hill pattern for a few weeks now. Just after Christmas I decided to rip out the half of the hill I had finished because the two greens in the kit were so similar that I couldn't see the leaves or even the flowers. Thursday was the same thing with the sheep. You can see in the photo that the two gray colors are almost the same. 

I hate ripping out stitches. I argued with myself that that was what the designer intended or they wouldn't give you the floss. Then I argued with myself that the photo on the front of the kit had definite separations of the color and I should just do what I want cause I bought the kit and its mine. Then the "you're lazy and you just don't want to have to restitch it" argument started. Then the "it's mine and I can do what I want with it, so stuff it" argument beat the crap out of the other two and set forth to find a floss color that I already had, so I wouldn't have to drive an hour just to pick up one skein. 

Well, that, and I rarely leave that store with just one thing.

I've found the color that I'm going to use. It's an Olde Willow thread called Shale. It has a little bit of a purple tinge to it but I think it will end up fine.

I'm off to rip out more stitches and up my medication.

Cross stitch masochist

Most of the patterns I pick out are monsters, not as in "EEEK! A Monster!", but as in "Good God! How many years is it going to take you to finish that?" I am apparently a cross stitch masochist.

For instance, one of the current WIP is "Marriage of the Minds" from The Drawn Thread.

Loved the pattern,  just didnt realize that it'll be over 2 feet long when I'm finished. Twenty six inches!

WTH.

I have about 3 bands done. The only reason I have that many done is because I was at home for three weeks.

Boybat will be driving a car by the time I finish this. Not my car–a car, preferably not one that I'm paying for.

Stitching addiction

I have an addiction. It's cross-stitching. No matter what else I try, I always come back to cross stitching. I dont know about the rest of you, but I have 4-5 projects that are always going and cruise the internet for patterns and gadgets. I've tried knitting (who would spend all that time counting...Oh wait..nevermind), scrapbooking (I still do that but its usually only 2 weekends a year when I'm on a retreat), sewing (that lasted all of three days, but I have a snazzy sewing machine that I use to bind the edges of my projects to keep them from fraying), and countless other side tracks, but I always come back to this. There's probably some deep, telling thing about it, but for right now the only reason I can think of is because I like it, and it's calming. If anyone has any better ideas, I'm open...