Cult-ish stuff, part two

There is one thing that I did not cover from 4-H camp. What about the candle?

Ahhh, yes, the candle. To properly have a cult meeting, one must have candles!

Well, maybe not.

The straps were made out of webbing. If you have ever cut webbing, then handed it to a child, you will quickly notice that the webbing gets shorter by the second as they pick of pieces and start unraveling.

There is a very neat trick called "heat sealing". It works best with nylon, but any synthetic material will do. If you run the end through a flame, it will melt the fibers together and fuse the end. Voila....no more picking.

Now, I could have instructed them to turn under the edge of the strap, blah, blah, blah. Please remember who was taking this class. Beginners. Little people who can't figure out how to iron up a hem or sew with the presser foot down or even how to NOT sew their bag shut.

And.....if you do things like turning under the end stuff, they thing sewing is hard and there goes that cult member. They run away, as fast as their little legs can carry them. But if there is fire involved. Wow. So we have needles that we get to jab into fabric, creating a felting, then we get to pass stuff through fire and watch it melt.

So cool!

Its like Mr. Wizard's science show!

For the encore we should do a Mentos/Diet Coke experiment. If you don't know what that is, please take a moment to google it, you are missing out on some good internet viewing.

What? More mother puzzles.

What is this? Well, I know *what* it is, but I mean, what is wrong? Oh heck, I know what is wrong too. Something bit my baby and she is obviously allergic to it. Notice that right now she is my baby. But given that my "baby" has started showing a bit of an attitude, sometimes I refer to her by other names. This happened while she was at camp too. Luckily it was 4-H camp and having Mom there once a day led to quick medical attention.

Poor thing. I do feel sorry for her and she is being good and putting anti-itch creme on it. But still.

Of course I felt more sorry for her before she announced, in her most dramatic tone, that perhaps she has cancer. The rolling of my eyes and shaking of my head drastically reduced the amount of sympathy she got.

Oh well, life goes on.

Creating the Cult

To properly recruit new members of my world, you must start with the young. Teach the young and they will follow the way of the fiber.

In all seriousness, I learned how to sew and knit at a young age. Although I have not always used those skills, I find them easy to pick back up in later life, when I did need them. That is another story, for another day. To share the insanity, I teach. I love teaching the art of fiber. I have taught classes to adults and to children. Both are different. With adults, you can teach concepts and re-enforce with samples. For children, its opposite. They need to start with the samples and then teach the concepts. Adults ask questions to clarify before starting. Children do not.....they jump right in with both feet and then ask open ended questions to further their horizons. Overall, children are easier to teach. They listen and experiment and enjoy what they are doing. But adults are more fun to entertain. And adults need the entertainment aspect. I'll go into great detail at another point.....

So 4-H camp! Everyday each child gets to sign up for a "class" and the sewing was just one of the vast choices. This year's camp was a Jungle theme. So I wanted something that was "jungle-y", easy to do, introduced a new skill or horizon and also something that could be done by a wide range of skill levels.

Did you figure out everything in the picture I posted earlier? There was a pair of scissors (duh!), a foam block, a felting needle and a candle. All were very important in my class.

We started out with felting. I got the largest, strongest felting needles at the yarn store. They needed to last for 4 days of punishment. I also got a matching number of bandaids. As the laws of my world state, if you have bandaids, you will not need them. And we didn't (big cheer!). The foam blocks were so each child had something to felt on instead of themselves. If you try and felt while holding the fabric, it can get really messy. We were going to felt onto the cotton fabric, but the weave was too tight, so we got some small scraps of brown wool. We also used wool yarn instead of roving. Its easier for beginners. The bag above is one that I whipped up as a sample. Its a giraffe, in case you can't tell. With trees. I should have stopped at the giraffe.

Having 20 kids all felting at once was interesting. They were all so intent. Kind of like giving a large room an unlimited supply of bubble wrap to pop. Everyone was so focused on blending colors, adding more yarn, punching, punching, punching.

And it gave me some time to have some more coffee before the chaos began. Yep, always start a class with a coffee break.

The bag itself was simple. I precut all the pieces. They had to stitch their felting on the side, do a couple of side seams, fold down a hem and stitch around the top and then put on their strap. Most seamstresses could do this in their sleep. Kids are completely different. They have no preconcieved notions about how things are done. That can be a good thing and a very, very bad thing.

For instance, when you ask, "Who here as used a sewing machine before?" The answers are completely irrelevant. All that tells me is who has SEEN a sewing machine before. I bet the same kids would raise their hands if I asked if they had driven a car. Sitting behind the wheel, making noises and turning on the wipers, signals and the radio while waiting for Mom to get in the car does not mean you have driven. There are usually 1-2 honest kids who have never seen a sewing machine. Those are the easy ones. They will think and ask before they jump. The rest of the herd? Oh thats where the broken needles, unthreaded machines, bags sewn shut at the top, jammed bobbins come from. Yep, beware the rest of the herd.

I, and my trusty assistant that I convinced to come along, quickly learned the sound of a seam being sewn with the presser foot up and learned to shout, "Oh darling, put the presser foot down, please" or something like that. If more than 5 stitches are sewn in that position, it will make a nest of thread. That nest of thread and untangling such a nest will haunt one's dreams for at least a week.

And somedays, after they have left the building, I have to sit down, have more coffee and repeat, "They are only children and they all learned at least 1 thing today".

Whew.

I'm too ethical to spike my coffee, its not right. But the fact that I am posting about it means that I had considered it. But here I am a week later, completely ready to do it all again. Not spike my coffee, teach of course.

Without anything added to my coffee beyond sugar and cream. Thats me, all sugar and cream.

Proof I have children

A long, long, long time ago, so long I refer to it as "b.c." (thats before children) I used to not puzzle over certain things. Like this.

Hmmm.

Ahhhh.

Ummmm.

I have no idea. No clue. No nothing.

Its a tomato.

From the fridge.

Tucked inside of a rhodie leaf.

My mind instantly wonders....why? who? how? did it mention WHY?

I don't get it. At all. And I'm afraid to ask. I might not like the answer. I'll just shake my head and continue on to water the lawn. But part of me is still puzzling. Do all parents have moments like this? What about people who are not parents? Do they find weird stuff? If they don't, do they know the great mysteries they are missing? Or if they don't, are they really missing anything?

Welcome to my world.....where I find tomatoes in my rhodies.

What do these things have in common?

Looks harmless, right? What would you do with these materials?

Sharing the love.....or spreading the insanity

If I love creating, then everyone else in the world must also, right?  Thats how it works in my world.  And if something is so simple in my head, then it must be REALLY simple.  Sometimes my family thinks I have created my own little world, with its own little set of rules.  They keep mentioning something called reality.  I've heard it so many times that I must know what it means by now, but I'm still fuzzy.

But today's rambling is not about my world.....its about enabling others.  Kind of like picking up an extra bottle of really good wine to share with your best friends.  Or taking a picture of the perfect accessory for your friend's house and texting it to her.  Its about helping out.  Just helping out, thats all.

Its a bit more difficult when it comes to artistic endeavors.  I've tried handing raw materials or machinery over to others.  With a big grin on my face, glowing, just waiting for them to burst with excitement as I try and spur on their level of joy.  Honestly, it doesn't happen like I imagine it working (again, my world thing).  I've given someone a sewing machine.  It wasn't anything special, but I was waiting for her to discover the thrill of creating.  Hmmm, didn't happen.  In fact, her husband used it more than she did and then only for repairing clothing. 

Yeah, I can repair clothing too, but if you will ask my husband about the pile of slacks that have been purchased over the years with some vague promise of something called hemming.  I've tried repeating the word over and over out loud and it always sounds the same.  Sounds like something you see in places that are the equivalent to a sweatshop.  I don't do sweatshop unless its some kind of new sauna before a massage.  On second thought, don't ask my husband.  Thats a better idea.

So apparently, if you want to spread the joy of this obsession, it requires more than handing over a pattern, some yarn, a machine or even fabric.  You must also spend some time and teach the skills needed to create.  Kind of like an apprentice.  

Coming tomorrow.....adventures at 4-H camp or spreading the fiber love to 20 kids at a time, whether they want to or not.  Sometimes joy must be forced.  Again, another part of my world.  Its nice here in my world, you should visit sometime!

On The Move

We are moving.....moving.....slowly moving. My darling husband's job is being relocated to Austin, Texas. Our house is for sale. Not that it means much in the current economy and housing market. If anyone is looking for a home, please let me know, I can recommend a wonderful one!

Being a fiber addict is messy. At one point, there were scraps of stuff covering the floor of my studio and every nook and cranny and closet and storage space were "insulated" with still more of the fiber. I did the noble thing and packed it all up, thinking that it would make the house more marketable and things would go quickly and I could unpack, like a child on Christmas. I packed up a year ago this week. Not that our house has been on the market that long, other life things have gotten in the way. I've been trying not to get too twitchy, but darn it, I miss my hobbies. So, in a moment of weakness, I ordered some sock yarn from KnitPicks. I magically found the bin that contained my knitting needles and we are off! Off to where, I'm not sure, but its so nice to have this nice bag of fiber to pet at night. I haven't actually started anything yet, but its a start, such a nice start.

One thing I had to do while packing was come face to face with the extent of my addiction. I had to gather all of the fabric, notions, needles, yarn, all in one spot. I had fabric stuffed in nearly every room of the house. A small stack here, a larger stack here, some under the bed, some in the closet and we won't even talk about the laundry room closet, that will be our little secret. I won't bore you with the number of boxes that are now bulging with fabrics. Its a little embarrassing and I don't want to be accused of lying.

The most shocking thing was the yarn. I didn't consider myself to be serious knitter. I enjoy it when I can't sew and I do like to pet yarn, but I was a seamstress, always a seamstress. I work with a fabric medium. I'm not one of those knitting people. But 4 rubbermaid containers later, I think I may be more of a yarn stasher than I previously realized. Obviously my issues extend past wovens, knits, denim, linen, fleece, french terry, silk, poplin, and twill.

Why Fibers?

I'm a tactile person. I like to touch, feel, experience. It makes my soul sing and generally tell me that I'm alive and happy. Sounds so nice, doesn't it? In reality, there is another side of it.....coveting. I find I am drawn to textiles, to texture, to having an end result, even if its in my head. Sounds somewhat plausible, right? Just follow me down my path to semi-mental issues. Somewhere it changed from admiration to desire to admire everyday. At least I didn't do this something as mundane as pet rats or shoes.

Shoes.....well, there is a slight issue there, but I don't NEED to cover that today.

Now....oh yes, beyond shoes. I don't even know when the coveting began, but its definitely there. My facination evolved:

"oh yes, thats nice"

to

"oh, I have a project for that"

to

"oh, I need to FIND a project for that"

to

"oh, I don't have a project, but I need that and what if I don't get it and then I find a project and its out of print or no longer available or what if someone else makes something from it and I don't have enough to create my inspiration?"

Indeed, what then?

Its that last step in my downward spiral that has led to the possession of whole bolts of fabric. And don't pretend that you don't know what I am talking about. If you are a crafter, or creator as I prefer, all have the same tendency lurking in our depths.

So....why fiber? I don't know exactly. I have a long list of crafts and projects and things that I have tried since I was a child. I love to create with my hands. I love color. But I think its the texture that draws me to the fibers. So many options with fibers, so many.

Summer Fibers

My children have informed me that summer is offically here. I have yet to figure out how to transport my sewing machines outside effectively. Yes, it can be done, but the trail of extension cords and power strips would make any fire inspector quake in their shoes. And since they have done such a lovely job of educating my children, they are waving safety cards with fire safety rules under my nose. Seems that making a daisy chain of power strips is a big no-no.

Oh well.....it gives me time to work on my yarn stash. I always find that I buy far more materials than I will ever consume. Knitting is always wintery for me, so this summer I am going to just try for socks. I have a bad habit of making a sock and then never getting back to making its mate. I think its reflected in my orphan sock bin. I must, deep down, feel extremely sorry for the poor lost souls and think that I can replace their pain with a new mate. Yeah, thats it. Has nothing to do with laziness. Nope, nothing at all.