Saturday, December 13, 2008


I accidentally felted a sweater. Sad. Very sad.

I reworked it with a zipper and cat patch into a jacket for my 5 year old. She wore it enough times to get dirty, then outgrew it.
I threw it into the washer again and felted it tighter.

I was going to make some more slippers like my pink (the handmade item I wear more than any other ever) ones, but decided to try something new. I shoved one of Izzy's shoes into the armpit of the sweater and traced it with a marker.

Then I traced her shoe flat for a sole.

I shoved one cut out sleeve into the other and traced it.
I flipped the sole over and traced. Then I cut everything out. I decided that the sleeves were too long (did not want gogo boots for house shoes) so I trimmed them a bit.

See how the arms make booties?
Then I dyed the pieces in my crockpot with some Jacquard dye.

I sewed the tops to the bottoms with dental floss and a silk ribbon embroidery needle. I used blanket stitch.

Now I have booties for Izzy. She likes them even though they are a bit big like "big lady shoes."

If I were to make another pair, I would nip in the ankles a bit with a dart.
It's below zero outside. There were 3 ft snowdrifts blocking our door this morning. Since I am stubborn and stupid, I did a half-assed job scraping my windows and I drove right into a snowbank in the middle of the street. (I would have seen if I'd defrosted the windshield properly.) I and spent an hour digging myself out of a snowbank with a windshield scraper.
In my infinite wisdom, I managed to leave the house in sneakers and a light jacket. I, an avid knitter and wool enthusiast, didn't have a hat or gloves or boots or a heavy coat on.
A man with the license plate "BIGDADY" saw me struggling and pulled my car out of the drift.
My friends gave me a lot of crap for marrying a redneck. Sure, I make fun of David for the belt buckle collection, obsessive NASCAR watching, and Larry the Cable Guy jokes, but a true redneck won't drive past a woman with no coat digging out her car with her bare hands. I know in my heart that my husband would do the same thing for anyone. Merry Christmas to all the "Big Daddy"s out there. You give me faith in humanity.

1 comment:

Marissa said...

That isn't the mark of a redneck, it's the mark of a gentleman. I've met men who are 'redneck' who drive right by as I'm trying to load things in my car and the things are winning.
You're right; men like "Big Daddy" give me hope that our society isn't totally screwed.

"UnseelieSuccubus" on Ravelry.