Washing Machine Fail.

I actually don’t know where the urge to crochet a washing machine came from, but when it hit me, it hit hard. 

My friend has written a magnificent second novel. JOY MOODY IS OUT OF TIME, by Kerryn Mayne, is set in a laundromat and is gripping, slightly odd, and ultimately heartwarming. I hope that the story I tell you today will be the same.

I don’t crochet as much as I used to these days. I suspect my creativity gets poured into my writing instead, which isn’t a bad thing. It’s only occasionally I get stung by the need to bring an idea into being and when it does, I try to lay down some ground rules for myself.

1. I need enough time to comfortably make it. Preferably using time when I would not be doing anything else important – like writing.
2. I need to use up scrap yarn and stash yarn. No adding to my overflowing drawers.
3. It needs to be small and portable.
4. It needs to hold my interest.
5. It needs to be of some use to the recipient.

I’ve never actually said these rules out loud before, but not that I’ve written them out, I realise that I unconsciously try to follow them every time.

Kerryn and I became friends last year. Our books came out at around the same time and we did an event together for Eltham Bookshop. I think we instantly connected as fellow twin mums. Plus, Kerryn is the sort of person to make you choke on a book-themed cupcake because you’re laughing so hard. Together with Emma Grey (she wrote THE LAST LOVE NOTE), we formed a little debut-writer support group. It’s like a mothers group, except our babies are books. We message each other most days.

I wanted to do something special for Kerryn’s launch and crocheting a front-loading washing machine seemed the way to go. I figured out my own design using an empty coffee box as the frame underneath. I crocheted panels to cover the box using the end of a ball of white bamboo yarn. I only just had enough, it was a close-run thing. I chopped the base off a container of hundreds-and-thousands and poked holes in it the whole way around. Then I crocheted directly onto the plastic using the holes with pink cotton yarn. I used the same pink yarn to crochet a circle the same size as the plastic circle. 

Then I took a little break. Then next part would be filling the box with rice and sewing it all together. And maybe covering the box with white paper so the colour didn’t show through the gaps. Boring. Plus I had plenty of time.

At one point, a friend of mine was having a cup of tea at my kitchen table. I was describing my project to her, but she couldn’t picture it. So I dashed off to grab it out of my bag. I held the strips of crocheted fabric against the box (“and this bit goes here…”) while she nodded politely. Then I packed all of the components into the little cardboard box and shut it. So handy! I was keen to get back to the conversation, so I put the coffee pod carton full of crochet on the side table in a pile of clutter and kept talking.

Several weeks go by and it’s time for me to finish off the crochet project. Finishing off crochet projects isn’t something I do often. I know exactly which of the many piles of clutter my crochet project *should* be in. 

Except it’s not there. And I have an uneasy feeling that it has been *not there* for a while.

The sideboard is looking suspiciously tidy. I thought I was the only person who did tidying in this house! I realise, with a sinking feeling, that a small cardboard carton filled with a crochet project looks exactly like a piece of rubbish if you never open it.

Look, we can skip the crying, the interrogations, the searching, the bemoaning of my brain’s chemical make-up and the petitions to Saint Anthony and Saint Jude. We can skip the part where I sifted systematically through the recycling bin with a long pair of tongs. It was gone. The thing was gone. 

I was going to stop here. It couldn’t be helped. Kerryn wasn’t expecting anything from me anyway. I was all out of white yarn. There wasn’t time to make another one. I would leave it be.

Except Kerryn has been so good to me this past year. She is such a caring and attentive friend. I wish she knew how much I appreciate her. 

My desk tends to accumulate balls of yarn. I’m not sure why. It was while I’m tidying up my desk (see, I do tidy sometimes!) that I see it. That chunky grey ball of yarn. I stand looking at it, there in my second yarn drawer. It’s so bulky. It would make up in no time at all. Who says washing machines have to be white?

What if I try again? I don’t want this story to have a sad ending. That’s not the sort of thing I write. I reach into the drawer and pull out the grey ball and a matching hook. I find a little bag to keep them in. I wouldn’t say yes just yet. I would just give it a try.

The bag comes with me on long car rides, to waiting rooms, and the bench outside school while waiting for the bell to ring. When the lady sitting next to me at the park asks what I am crocheting, I hold it up and say, ‘A washing machine. Obviously.’

And the thick yarn does make up super quickly. And I’m able to source another piece of plastic for the front. This time it’s the base of a mini water bottle. And I’m careful not to camouflage my work-in-progress as a piece of rubbish this time.

I got it done with time to spare! The whole thing looks a bit wonky and knobbly and you have to squint and turn your head to the side to figure out what it’s actually supposed to be, but we got there in the end! 

If you are going to come at me in the comments to say that grey-and-variegated-pink doesn’t look nearly as good as white-and-hot-pink, I do not want to hear it. Be quiet. Grey is better. Kerryn has small children. White gets dirty fast. It was always meant to be grey. Grey is great.

Kerryn loves her strange gift. I say her kids could furnish their dolls house with it. She says ‘No! It’s mine!’

I wasn’t sure if I could call this post ‘Washing Machine Fail.’ because I’ve already written about a washing machine fail, but I checked and it has a different name. In fact, I have written several posts in the past about failure and washing machines. It’s a key part of my oevre. 

If you are new to this blog, welcome! I don’t write here much at all anymore (my children are several years older than they are described in the ‘About’ section), and a lot of what you find here is unedited ramblings, but I do recommend the ‘Fail’ posts (you can click on the ‘Fail.’ category in the panel on the right).

If you are a writer or my friend and I haven’t crocheted for you, it’s not because I don’t love you. There is just a lot to contend with!

My First Feature!

 

Here’s my first attempt at a feature article. Turn to page 16 for “Hooking Up” by Kate Moriarty!

http://melbournecatholic.org.au/Melbourne-Catholic-magazine

Yarny Fun Times

Here are some of my latest hooky projects.

Bunnies on the Hill

Here are four bunnies.

Here is the hillside on which they play.

When they get tired, they go to sleep in their warren.

Goodnight bunnies!

I made this for Annie’s fourth birthday.  The bunnies are based on Lucy Ravenscar’s quick and easy Easter Bunny design.  The hillside/warren/bag is my own creation.   This toy is great fun in cafes and Medicare waiting rooms.  And Annie likes to play with it too.

The Green Sheep

 

This was a present to a small friend of mine who turned three recently.  I’ve always been a major fan of Mem Fox, so it was great to pay tribute/infringe copyright in this way.  Also, these sheep are lots of fun to make (although I still haven’t got the hang of embroidering closed eyes); it won’t be long before I’ve hooked up a whole flock.  You can find the (excellent) pattern here.

 

Lately, I’ve been toying with the idea of selling toys like these online.  What do you think?

Frogo and the Quest for Attention

I don’t know if you’ve worked it out by now, but I’m a bit of a crochet nut.  And I’m at my nuttiest when making gifts for friends and family.  There is a part of me that will not rest until every person I care about owns something that I made for them.  I think it might be something primal.  Like I’m marking my territory or something.  When I get it right and the gift is well-received, it is exhilarating.   But when I get it wrong, it is mortifying.

Anyway, for a long while now I’ve been wanting to make a frog for my friend Strider.  Strider has been my friend for around eighteen years now, and along with his obsession with all things Tolkein, he is also deeply interested in conservation and other environmental issues and has a great love of green tree frogs.

Recently (no, not recently, this post has been in my drafts pile for a few months now, but let’s pretend), Strider had a small birthday party, a strictly ‘no presents’ affair.  I like when friends have ‘no presents’ parties.  It means I can give something hand-made without any pressure for it to be good.

So anyway, I made this:

I couldn’t find a pattern I really liked (I have no time to be sewing bits together or faffing about with pipecleaners), so I designed one myself.  It took a bit of experimentation, but I got there in the end.  I must give credit, however, to Lucy Ravenscar:  I was very much inspired by the techniques she used with her bazaar animals in putting this together.  I couldn’t help but feel rather chuffed with how it worked out.

When I got to Strider’s house (‘Gondor’?) , I waited until I had come inside and our respective children had finished exclaiming over each other, before presenting my gift.  Strider smiled and thanked me politely.  He did not, however do any of the following:

1.  Jump up and down making high-pitched squeally noises;
2. Accost everybody who arrives at the party brandishing said frog and exclaiming, “look what Kate made!”
3. Ask for a full report on what yarn I used, what size hook, stitches, pattern – wait, what?  You mean to say THIS IS AN ORIGINAL DESIGN?
4. Ask how it came to pass that his friend Kate got to be so brilliant as to design her own frog;
5. Place the frog in a prominent position, where guests can use it as a conversation piece and talk all about me and my epic skills.

In fact, he put the frog away, where nobody could see it.  How was I supposed to show off now?

But I was not defeated.  I turned a few strategies over in my mind.  Strider’s sister-in-law is nice and loud.  Perhaps I could get her to broadcast the news of my triumph?  So I sought her out and gave my orders.

“You must ask your brother-in-law to show you what I made him!”

So Strider’s sister-in-law (“Galadriel”?  I don’t know…) dutifully sought out the host of the party and asked to see the frog.  She got a look at it, but didn’t take it out of its hiding place.  Then she came back to tell me how great she thought it was.  Nobody overheard.  The frog remained hidden.

But now, I knew the where the frog was hidden.  It was in the kitchen.  I decided it was time to get myself a drink.   Then I decided the frog was exactly where I wanted to put the bottle of mineral water.  so I moved it to the other side of the bench, where it would be out of my way and, incidentally, more visible to anyone who happened by.  Then I stationed myself next to the bench so I could answer any questions (“Whence came this miraculous creation?”).

But nobody asked any.  And then I had to go home.

I had almost got over it a couple of days later when I met up with Strider’s family again for a church group picnic.  “Now, Kate,”  I told myself sternly, “you made that frog as a present to your friend, not to your ego.  You really must get over this need to be in the centre of attention at all times!”.  I arrived at the picnic determined to listen to others and not dominate and give other people the opportunity to get a word in edgewise.  It was as I was listening (with all my might) to a new friend as she told me about her work designing jewellery and selling it online, that Strider broke in.

“You should sell your work online too, Kate.  That frog you made me is just brilliant.  Tell us all about it”

Oh, well.  I suppose I could manage that.  If I must.

Odds and Ends

My notebook is chock-full of half-written blog posts. They all seem a little bland to me. This post is going to be short and, let’s face it, rather dull, but (and this is important) I’m going to finish it and type it up and post it.

The article I wrote for Australian Catholics has been published (!!!)  If you click here, you can catch a tantalising glimpse of the title, graphic and first paragraph.  The rest, unfortunately, is only available to online subscribers.

If you live in Australia, you might be able to get a copy from your local Catholic church or school.  Failing that, I might see if I can get permission to reprint the article a few months from now.  I’m not really sure how these things work.

I’ve also written an article for Madonna, AC’s sister publication (!!!), but that will just be a re-working of my Mary, Help of Kitchens post and it hasn’t gone to print yet.

My (other) work in progress. See that bit of purple at the bottom of the shot? That’s my belly…

The twins continue to grow and I am now officially the size of a small W-class tram.  I am coping with all this by waddling everywhere like some oversized toddler and perfecting the art of Phoning It In.

Behold:  Harry’s birthday cake:

I ran out of writing icing.  Fail.

I think, perhaps, I should rename this post “Odd and End”, because I can’t think of anything more to tell you and my break is almost over and I’m determined to actually finish this post so it doesn’t become lost among my other half-written monstrosities floating around the place.  Incidentally, if there is something particular you would like me to write a post about, please leave me a comment.  I’m feeling a little stuck at the moment.

And now, in the spirit of Phoning It In, I’m going to finish this post right now, without anything witty to round it off and without tying any ends together.

*dial tone*

Busy Fingers #4

Baby Presents

Is it just me or is everybody having babies?  I thought I’d share some little projects I turned out recently for my fertile friends and their freshly-minted progeny.

I love this elephant.  The pattern for it is so clever that you hardly have to do any sewing together (I HATE sewing together bits.  I always do a wonky job.  It drives me crazy).

It’s all very elegantly designed (which I suppose would make it an Elegant Elephant).  And the fabric in the ears makes me swoon (even though I had to sew it).  I made it for my friends who recently had a baby girl.

Recently, I was making a set of tiny teddy bears as a get well soon present, using Lucy Ravenscar’s excellent design (I swear I’m a little obsessed with that brilliant woman and her clever patterns), and I ran out of wool before I finished one of the bears.  It struck me that this half-finished bear would make a very cute finger puppet.  And THEN I remembered the Bananas in Pyjamas that I’d made for my nephew and I thought it would be a good idea to give the bananas some teddy bears to chase on Tuesdays.  This was to make a present for my friends who had recently welcomed a baby boy into the world (and who already had two preschool girls who might also benefit from the present).

Lucy Ravenscar’s bears and Chisachi Kushima’s elephant (as translated by Stephanie from All About Ami) are elegant patterns that are a joy to make.  Unfortunately, my pattern for banana finger puppets is a clumsy and complicated mess that brings no joy to the fingers and ends up looking rather wrong.  I’m too embarrassed by it to share it on my blog.  There must be an easier way.

I purchased a little pencil case from an entrepreneurial eleven-year-old on a market day at our homeschool co-op.  I figured it might be useful for my friends to carry the puppets around in a purse or nappy bag so that they could be on hand (sorry) to entertain their kids in waiting rooms, cafes or churches.

If I could only get a better handle on the banana component, this might be a good gift for my friends who live far away when they have babies – it would post so easily.

Oh!  And I mustn’t forget to let you know that these presents were ALL made from stash yarn.  But I did it before I took the shameful photo of my yarn mountain, so no progress made there…

Sigh!

Edited to add: The very talented Veronica from Veronica’s Miscellaney (who, incidentally, is another Australian Catholic Homeschooler who Crochets) has worked out an excellent pattern for these bananas.  She used the same method as me, but added some critical tweaks that have made all the difference.  You can view it here: http://veromarybrrr.wordpress.com/2015/04/07/bananas-in-pyjamas/

Stash Confessions

OK, so maybe I have a problem.

I’m not sure how it started, really. I’m sure it was innocent enough to begin with, but it’s now got to the point where I don’t even have a handle on how much things are getting out of control and I’m too scared to face up to reality.

My name is Kate Knightley and I own an excessive amount of yarn.

I think it might be taking over my house. I’m pretty sure I can stand in any room and, if I look carefully enough, find evidence of my addiction. Plus there’s all of the stuff I have hidden away. I have two large bureau drawers dedicated to concealing my stash and I think I have the problem contained, but then sometimes I uncover random Lincraft bags chock-full of lambswool/alpaca blend.

It frightens me.

And worse than just the wool – the half finished projects.  Oh!  The shame!  They glare at me reproachfully from the various places I’ve tried to hide them.  They call to me:  Kate!  Kate!  Only three more rounds and I would have been complete!  Kate!  Don’t you love me?

I’ve tried to be good.  Really, I have.  So many of my recent projects have used up stash wool rather than new wool.  I’ve tried to be creative and figure out ways to work with what I’ve got.  But it doesn’t seem to help.  It’s like Strega Nona broke into my stash and stirred it up with her magic wooden spoon.  It’s like the Magic Pudding of stashes.  It doesn’t make a difference how much of it I consume.  It doesn’t get any smaller.

Mr Knightley has his suspicions, but he doesn’t know how bad things really are.  I have been guilty of concealing my (necessary and perfectly legitimate) yarn purchases from him (“this old skein?  I’ve had this for ages”).

But now it’s time to face reality.  I’m going to get all the yarn I can find together and take a picture.  This might be a little disturbing:

Oh!  The shame!  It’s only in a heart shape because Christopher Robin helped me collate it all  (“You love your wool, really, Mum”)

And here are the dud projects:

Don’t look at me!  I’m hideous!

And here’s what makes it all much worse:  I want to buy more.  I want to buy so much more.

This weekend I went to Healesville with my husband of twelve years and we spent some blissful time exploring markets and second-hand shops sitting in lovely cafes all without the company of our children, who, delightful as they are, tend to have grabby hands and an electron-like capacity of being in many places they shouldn’t be all at once.

I got the chance to feast my eyes on some gorgeous hand-made baby clothes and it gave me a desperate case of the wanties.  My fingers started itching to create some adorable hats and jackets for the twins and none of the yarns I already own are quite what I am looking for.

I’m beginning to fantasise about gender-neutral pallettes in rich, unusual colours tempered with soft greys and creams all in finger-weight yarn.  Or large balls of thick, soft, natural-coloured wool.  Or the vivid, jewel-bright colours of Rowan DK or Debbie Bliss yarn (I’ve never actually owned these brands, but everybody on the internet seems to use them and the colours are to die for).

Did you know you can order yarn online and they deliver to your door?  Can you imagine what it would be like to open a parcel and find it full of delicious wool?  I was chatting about this with my husband on the weekend (we were eating lunch in a Healesville café and I’d just seen the inside of this amazing store).  His eyes were a little glazed over for most of the conversation (“granny square matinee jacket” / “New Zealand possum yarn” / “new method for edging blankets’), but he snapped back to reality when I mentioned purchasing yet more wool.

“What are the names of these websites?” he asked, with concern wrinkling his eyebrows, “perhaps I should put a block on them…” and then he went on, talking about “my own good” and “saving me from myself” and “seeking professional help”.   I’m not sure – I wasn’t really listening.  My mind was exploring colours and textures and exciting new projects.

It’s sweet that he cares about me, but he really doesn’t need to be concerned.  It’s fine.  I can stop at any time.

Plus I bet I can get a discount for ordering in bulk.

 

Do you have a wool or craft stash that is getting out of control?  Please photograph and/or write about it and we can enable link to each other.  This is a safe place.  There is no judgement here.

Busy Fingers #3

I just thought I’d share with you what I did as a card for the two weddings I went to in December.  Both were the sort of weddings where money was the most appropriate gift.  This always feels a little impersonal to me, which is why I like to include some hand-made accompaniment.

I enlisted Matilda’s and Christopher Robin’s help creating the backdrop (I asked them to write the word ‘love’ everywhere), then I crocheted the heart using this neat pattern from Skip to my Lou.

After that, I glued it all together with a co-ordinating button.  I may have become a little obsessed with my hot-glue-gun of late…

Perhaps not as good as my lopsided cake card, but I like it, just the same!

Busy Fingers #2

This year, I had the idea of beefing up our Christmas presents to our nephews and nieces with some handmade gifts. You see, Mr Knightley’s brothers and sister always give such thoughtful and generous presents to my children that the presents I buy for their children look rather plain in comparison. I am certain that I am the only one who notices this, but I wanted to find a way to value-add, just the same. Unfortunately, I was only hit with the inspiration to do this ONE WEEK before our Christmas lunch.  But the genius of Lucy Ravenscar and the sheer wonder of my hot-glue gun came together and I somehow managed to pull it off.

It was a Christmas miracle.

I made:

1. A turtle keyring for my ten-year-old niece (from Lucy Ravenscar’s most excellent pattern);

2. These hair clips for my two-year-old niece (flower motif pattern here);

3. A ‘lucky pig’ for my baby niece (another of Lucy Ravenscar’s remarkable patterns); and

4. These Bananas-in-Pyjamas finger puppets for my one-year-old nephew.  These were my own pattern and a lot trickier than they look.  The pyjama stripes are worked in rows and joined to make a cylinder, then the head is worked in decreasing rounds on one of the ends.  If you try to work the whole thing in rounds, the stripes go diagonal.  Or so I’m told.

My other two nephews (aged seven and nine) missed out on a handmade addition to their presents.  What on earth do you crochet for a nine-year-old boy?

These were all very well received and I was feeling remarkably smug about the whole situation … until I saw the truly beautiful, thoughtful presents my children received in return. I’m gonna have to start a lot earlier next year!

Busy Fingers #1

Note – I wrote this one a month ago and am only just getting around to posting it now.  Hence all the references to “Advent” and “December”.  I tried to fix it, but it was getting too complicated.  I hope you can cope with this blast from the past…

My fingers have been very busy this Advent season. Here’s why:

 

1. Something about Christmas fills me with the urge to create things with my hands.

2. I prefer to spend my time with a bag of yarn and a box set of Little Dorrit than doing battle with a shopping centre car park.

3. I get to tell myself I’m being all anti-consumerist and sticking it to the man.

4.  I’ve been invited to two weddings this December, and as a result have NO MONEY for expensive presents.  All my money fell down the wishing well…

Here’s what I made for Harry’s and Christopher Robin’s teachers:

These angels are TOTALLY MY OWN PATTERN.  I’m so excited!  OK, so maybe I got lacy wings idea from a book I got from the library and I did steal Lucy Ravenscar’s method of joining the head to the body without fastening off, but the rest of it is ALL ME.  If you look closely, you can see that some of the angels have different body-types – it took me a while to refine the pattern…

I might just put a tutorial up for these sometime next year…

We also gave them gingerbread in jars, using The Green Dragonfly’s excellent recipe.  All of the kids helped to make these.  Annie ate all her dough, and Christopher Robin got rather creative in his choice of biscuit shapes, but I bit back the strong urge to fix the wonky ones and let them roll and cut to their hearts content.  We decorated with white fudge writing icing, but I wouldn’t recommend it (it doesn’t set properly).

All of the teachers were very happy with their Christmas presents, and I was glad of the opportunity to thank them for taking care of my boys this year.

Stay tuned for more – I’m afraid you don’t have a choice!