A New Pattern! OF DOOM

soon

Feel that? They’re coming……………. in fact, they are here!

A BIG SALE, because babbies.

So here’s a little infographic about what’s happening and about to happen to me*:

HOW DOES BABBY BORN?

howbabby

I’m currently on step one, but step two and three are coming soon. Kinda like a hurricane of poop, vomit, and lack of sleep approaching over the horizon. I am shortly expecting to give birth to twins, so as you can probably imagine, I won’t have much time for anything besides catering to tiny demanding overlords and curling in a corner to cry. This means I won’t be able to fill any orders close to the holidays; and my shop will be on hiatus for awhile; at least a few months but maybe longer depending on how illusive my sanity proves to be.

So I’m having a sale on all in-stock items! Plan ahead for the holidays, or just stock up before they’re gone for a long time!

HUGE SALE ON NOW: 35% off with the code THEYRECOMING (until November 28th or I give birth, whichever is first)

 

*this infographic is purely and completely from the mind of the fabulous AnnieBeeKnits. Her concept, loves.

Damn it, Folksy Musicians

You are all adorable.

Also, banjos? BANJOS? THANK YOU.

\

Please keep dressing like a westerny Doctor Who newsie. That is all.

Art, or something like it

I have an ongoing conversation with some of my friends about art. Specifically, if I am an artist.

I argue no. I make things like this:

Loki1_small2

teeny tiny loki helm. Because. Just…. because.

and like this:

Expired Milk Bot. Yes, it’s a pun.

And with boobs. Because why the heck not:

They’re kinda staring at you, aren’t they?

And as hilarious as they are, I just don’t think that making a robot with fake tits is art.

I’m not being self effacing, or demeaning my work. I’m a craftsperson, and in the field of vinyl robot pouches wearing underwear as headgear or sweaty armpits, I’m probably a leader. I just don’t think it’s art.

I mean, if you want to buy a bunch of these guys and stick them on your wall, I am not going to argue with you. Go for it. Treat it like art, you are totally welcome to have your own opinion on this matter. Hey, if you’re a gallery and you want to exhibit some bots? Awesome. I will be there in a heartbeat. I’ll even make you an artist’s statement. That statement might be “I don’t consider myself an artist, but I like to make people laugh”, but I’ll write it up real nice for you.

All of this is to say; I ran across some art the other day, and I wanted to share it.

Ai Weiwei is a chinese contemporary artist who has been in the news quite a bit for lots of various work he’s created.  But specifically, I’d like to talk about this piece:

“Straight” by Ai Weiwei

This piece, called “Straight”, consists of 38 tons of steel rebar. Now, normally, this is the kind of thing I’m not a huge fan of. I mean, a bunch of steel rebar? Really? But then you find out that this is steel rebar scavenged from collapsed schools after the 2008 earthquake in Sichuan that killed 68,000 people, over 5000 of them school children. The schools allegedly collapsed due to shoddy construction and poor building practices; making this a tragedy that could have been mitigated. Ai Weiwei and his team purchased the rebar and spent years hammering it straight. They collected the names of the children who died, and this list is recorded and played at the installation. It takes hours to get through the whole thing.

I discovered this work through the vlog of the incomparable John Green:

If you are anything like me, after viewing this you’re left with an overwhelming desire to help. I don’t know how to improve the infrastructure or building practices of schools in China. I can’t go over there and help. I can’t bring those kids back, but I can make life better for the people still on this planet. Instead of focusing on one tragedy, we can help in other places. Consider joining Kiva, where you can make micro loans to alleviate poverty (that link is a referrer link, but I make no money off of it. You get a free $25 loan when you sign up). Donate to the Red Cross, or a local agency of your choice. I think we all know ways in which we can make the world a better place.

This is art, my friends.

 

Ponies. So. Many. Ponies.

I am a knitting machine and toy store, all in one, as far as my preschooler is concerned.

ponies 004 copy

ETA: I should add the the basic pony pattern is Mini Magical Friendship Ponies by Joy Gerhardt. Although the pattern calls for fingering weight, I used worsted for slightly bigger ponies. The pattern for spike I just made up as I went.

I really, really should have known better

This is what can happen in less than ten seconds, when a preschooler is trusted with a pair of safety scissors:

scissors 002

Clock-wise from left: a sock for a kitty, now with extra space! A hat with pom pom ties, now freed from the tyranny of said ties (also for a kitty), and a sad monkey who lost both arms and legs, as well as tail and ears to a maniacal munchkin.

“Look Mama!” She said, “I made Monkey into a bean!”

 

What I did while I wasn’t watching MegaShark vs Giant Octopus

So lately I haven’t had a whole lot of knitting mojo. It turns out that my will to knit is directly tied into what media I want to consume, as I am completely incapable of knitting without some sort of other brain distraction (which explains my inability to knit anything particularly complicated).

And loves, I am in a media rut. I am all caught up on all my favourite shows, and I’ve abandoned several mid-season for lack of excitement. Some others (I’m looking at you, DOCTOR WHO AND WAREHOUSE 13) are still on mid-season hiatus. And finding movies is hard, especially since Netflix seems to mostly think I would really really enjoy 2-HEADED SHARK ATTACK and MEGA SHARK VS. CROCASAURUS (hint: I would not enjoy either of these).

Added to this is the fact that my child discovered my copy of Teeny Tiny Mochi Mochi. Which she thinks is a catalogue, so I have been knitting teeny tiny monkeys, lions, mermaids, and other wondrous creatures to the specifications of a persnickety three year old. Because I am easily manipulated by tiny little hands grabbing my knitting needles and handing them to me while a little voice says “You knit me this, Mama? You kneet is for ME?”.

small_ttmm_shopp1.jpg

On the plus side, they are darn cute knits, and, assuming you are only knitting a few; quickly finished. If you’re producing a charming army for a Preschooler to attempt world domination with, it will probably take you a great deal longer.

teeny 003

So from left to right, we have: a lion, a viking, a pink computer, a yellow monkey, a ghost, a house with a mailbox (house my design), another lion, a mermaid, a christmas tree, a blue monkey, and a pink telephone. There have been more since this photo was taken. I finally gave in and purchased some metal DPNs, as I actually have been breaking the tips off my wood ones with the tininess. Of course, I haven’t had much opportunity to use them, as apparently now someone has enough teeny tiny friends, and could I knit a big big something instead?

I dreamed a dream

I hate dream sequences.

For real. The fastest way to make me turn off a movie? Dream sequence.  As much as I loved Buffy, there are entirely too many dream sequences in that show. I don’t care if the cheese guy is surreal and Dadaist, it’s a damn dream sequence. Of course he had cheese on his head!

Why do I hate them? Because anything can happen. The writers are no longer constrained by the physics of the show; they can do absolutely anything and hey! It’s just a dream! None of that ACTUALLY HAPPENED. And if it didn’t happen, then WHY THE HELL DID I HAVE TO WATCH IT.

Anyways.

So dreams. I don’t think they are portents, I don’t think they are generally meaningful in any way. They’re brain barf, as far as I’m concerned.

My brain barfs up some really wonderful things.

The other night, I found myself aboard the TARDIS with one of my most awesome pals (the incomparable Ms. Yarnpr0n, of YOWZA MCTROWZA fame), intent on having adventures with Amy and Eleven:

when suddenly, River and the Fourteenth Doctor appear! BUT WAIT. Who is the fourteenth doctor?

Yep. Marty McFly. Except he’s wearing this guy’s outfit:

And they’re like “Let’s go!” So we go.

And we end up on Hoth, fighting this:

Though to be fair, River is doing most of the fighting. Fourteen and Amy are drinking Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters, and what is Eleven doing?

Puppet show.

And that, my friends, is why I don’t like when television shows have dream sequences in it. Because if I can fight Wampas with River Song and watch puppet shows put on by the Doctor, while Marty McFly flies the TARDIS, then absolutely anything can happen.

And it makes my brain hurt.

I posted as a guest and I swore a couple times

Today is a great day, because:

A: It are my BIRFDAY

and

B: I have a guest post up at the blog of wonderously talented and amazingly awesome Anne. Check it out HERE. She’s doing a series on colour, and asked me to post a little something after I drew her a little doodle of a robot. I am pretty sure every other guest blogger for Anne’s excellent Colour Riot series has provided you with links, actual facts, and possibly homework. I am lazy, and so I will leave you with something recreational. Read Shades of Grey by Jasper Fforde. No. It is not THAT book. Really. If there is one thing Sci-Fi is really good at (besides being totally kick ass and amazing), it’s making you think in different ways. This book made me think differently about colour, while also being an awesome post-apocalyptic-type interesting read.

Darcy’s Crotch

My dear friends, I have fallen down the Austen rabbit hole, again. The Lizzie Bennet Diaries are seriously affecting me. I’m talking faster, waving my hands, and thinking a lot about Darcy’s crotch.

Specifically, if this shot:

darcy

 

Is a clever reference to this infamous shot:

 

Jane Austen adaptations: bringing you the crotch shots you want to see.

 

And while we’re here, can we talk about this fellow:

Watching Emma right now and this is all I can think about.

 

That’s Mr. Knightly, from Emma. As played by the intrepid, and let’s face it, fairly adorable Jonny Lee Miller, who is currently on tv playing this man:

That’s Sherlock Holmes, from CBS’s much-lambasted-but-actually-pretty-much-cute-and-wonderful-series Elementary.

So. I don’t know what you do all day, but I managed to convince myself that since:

A. Mr. Knightly and Emma get married and have lots of babies

and

B. They are British and rich and pretty awesome 19th century folks

and

C. Sherlock comes from a wealthy and powerful British family

in addition to the fact that

D. Sherlock looks an awful lot like Mr. Knightly

Then it is a truth universally acknowledged that

E. (you know where this is going, right?) SHERLOCK IS EMMA AND MR. KNIGHTLY’S GREAT GREAT GRANDBABBY