It hardly comes as any surprise that anything we eat has an impact on the environment. Nor that said impact is invariably negative, and that the best thing to do would possible be to stop eating at all.
Following such advice counters survival. So instead we compromise: Eat less meat, especially red meat. Go vegetarian or indeed vegan all the way. Eat only organic foods. Or indeed a combination of, say, organic and vegan.
And of course we want the best for our children. So we give them organic food at home and see to it that their daycare does too.
But what about the bib? Children are messy eaters and use bibs. Less washing is a good idea. Growing cotton and turning it into bibs (among so many other things!) is … well, less good. Even organically grown cotton comes with soil, water, and a lot of energy in the processes on its way to clothes. Including bibs.
So why not give your textiles a second life? This bib has a history: It was a towel in a hospital until it ripped from wear. Via sewing machine, the un-ripped parts became bibs. And 40 of them are on their way to a daycare. Ready for a new life with new stains, more washing and wear.
That’s in good tune with their organic food.
I know full well I won’t get very far in these boats. They are easy to make, though, and would do equally well in a beach house, summer cottage or on a boat. All triangles, all the same size, all sides the same length. Rather neat even if I say so myself.
And the best part is they are absolutely still and don’t rock, roll, and heave. I get seasick sometimes. Never with these!
Most people will have heard of the male name Viggo. At least when paired with the surname Mortensen. He said in an interview that the name Viggo is considered somewhat dorky in his Dad’s native Denmark. The surname is just plain fairly common as are most surnames ending in -sen.
It seems the name Viggo is on the rise in popularity though. One of “my” cub scouts bears it and I recently found out my sister likes it. The reason for my discoveryis that her daughter, my niece, is pregnant, and my sister suggested the name.
An ultrasound showed that she’s carrying a girl. The name does however have a female counterpart: Vigga.
And that’s what I call this pattern:
I’m not done with it – it’s going to be a baby blanket. Right now it’s VIP. Vigga In Progress.
And the colour scheme? Her due date is the fifth of November, known to any Brit as bonfire day to commemorate the discovery of the gunpowder plot led by Guy Fawkes before they had time to blow up the Parliament and upheave alle order in the UK. Hence the red, orange and yellows.
My darling mum was always a collector and saver. I inherited and willingly pick up anything she began to discard because of a move to a smaller flat. I fully intend to turn the odds and ends into something, and this shoulder bag is one such thing.
I have no clue what she intended the two different kinds of material for. Probably something else. Only thing I’m sure about is the strap surprised her.
It’s an old bicycle tube.
The top is something shiny, the beads are mostly Czech glass, the floral-print is satin.
There’s something about contrasts …
Cake, dinner, midnight.
Calculation, dedication, mass production
Chaos, disaster, moping
What have I been doing?! Well you might just ask. The answer is that Saturday my Mum came to visit to see the progress on her bedspread (see last post) and decide what should go on it now. We talked back and forth for a bit, thought a lot and finally decided to reduce the number of denim pieces and add a simple patchwork design of only squares.
A lot of them as it turned out. 468 to be precise.
We sighed a bit, then she began to cut out the squares, I began to edge them, and my daughter collected them in bundles of 10 to ease counting. All was well, we took a break for coffee / tea and cakes, another break later on to finish cooking a pot roast already simmering.
Time wore on but around 11 PM we “just” needed 80-odd squares and went on cutting to get it over with.
Minutes later disaster struck. My trusty old sewing machine decided to play up, eat material and make snares of the thread. 44 squares are un-edged, and all of them still need sewing together.
I really need the one CDM I didn’t have: Cadbury’s dairy milk.
So here’s the reason I was silent online for a fortnight and a day: I kept myself busy making this little trifle. Which is less of a trifle given the fact that I started out with flat material, a lenght of cord, a needle, thread and two boxes of Czech glass beads. Yup, that’s right: Each and every single one of the beads on this bag is sewn on by hand.
I’m rather pleased with the result, I have to admit. I wanted it to look random in it’s pattern, and I followed a meandering trail traced in tailor’s chalk before I began beading.
That’s not saying I didn’t beat myself on the head a few times in the process. What was I thinking using the really small beads and tracing such a long trail? And did they really all need two stitches to fasten them securely?
The answer is I was thinking how it would end up looking. And I like it. It was worth it.
This post will have you seeing stars. Really.
I was seeing stars when I got the material for the shorts I practically finished. It was in a shop in Amsterdam, our summer hols destination, and it was just packed with fabrics I wanted. And I had to limit myself and therefore pinched close my eyes so hard it made stars shimmer inside the lids.
My daughter saw stars too, but only these.
Then I was seeing stars again when I laid out the pattern. This time they were stars of rage. What was she thinking in that shop?! I specifically asked for enough for a pair of semi-long shorts. And this is how they had to look in the end:
All I could get were the leg parts. Not the waist band, not the pockets, not the belt straps. And I really was very careful, trying several times over to somehow fit more pieces onto the star fabric.
So I was reminded again to be careful about trusting shop clerks. At least my daughter thinks her new shorts are cool.