Elvis wig-hats

as modelled by my patient and amused parents. Dad's is a bit small; I later remade the inner cap better to fit his little head.

Handknitted stockings

for two adorable young Virginians of my acquaintance. Their father asked me to create them as companion pieces to his own handmade stocking received in boyhood. They took longer to complete than I expected, despite near-constant knitting, and I learned to cable. (That wavy color-transitioning is actually two-colored cabling, people.) Now they get express-UPSed to arrive in time for the Big Day.

Pattern used, colors modified, originally published by the good folks at Lion Brand. There are some frustrating typos in the pattern, such as "co" instead of "to" and "srs" instead of "sts." This rankles in a hobby that is heavily abbreviation-reliant. (Bad editors! Bad!) Yarn is Lion Brand Wool-Ease, which I found disappointing in that it fuzzed and knotted as it was knit straight from the skeins. It was cheap, but I should have taken the time to wind it into balls. Hopefully its 80% plastic durability will make the untangling aggravations worthwhile.

Shower curtain

I'm feeling pretty virtuously crafty.

Early last year a romantic fling in which I was entangled collapsed. While recovering I became intensely domestic. Nesting, I painted walls (tinted primer, two coats of color, yards of low-tack masking tape; purchased a 6' ladder), bought a beautiful duvet cover and found some white striped silk organza curtain panels on sale. I got some silk dye and unscientifically tinted the panels in my kitchen sink, thoroughly cleaning up before and after the coloring. Those tab-topped turquoise babies were one of my favorite things in my old apartment, and when I moved I was afraid they wouldn't have a new home. I was wrong.

Recently I've been obsessed about completing decorative thoughts around the home. (My parents and sister will be making a Yuletide visit, so I want everything to be nice. Perfect is inattainable. It won't be a finished showplace, but it will have welcoming details.) One of my priorities has been a shower curtain for my master bath. Part of me knows that as a New Yorker with two bathrooms I should just be thankful and shut up. Anyway, the "guest bath" gets a pretty grosgrain ribbon curtain. I almost made one myself, but came to my senses upon finding this one on sale. (It was about ten dollars more than the materials would have cost. The saved aggravation is worth a lot more than ten bucks.)



For a couple of days the master bath wanted a ribbon curtain, too. After reconsidering, hours were passed online trying to match the insubstantial picture in my head. (One of the drawbacks of my glamorous -- ha, ha -- job is that the schedule is demanding enough to preclude shopping during daylight hours. Plus, I hate crowds, which is a real drawback during holiday sales. As a result, I am a fearless online shopper.) I came close a few times but never made a buy.

Last night I had an epiphany. I was putting laundry away in my laughably shallow linen closet and spied the organza mess on the top shelf just as I was despairing of ever finding anything that color ... THAT COLOR! Sha-zam! Like a lightning bolt it hit me: I am seamstress, hear me stitch. They'll work if I put them together and chop off the hem! Of course, it was 1:30 am (technically today), so I decided not to get started on the cutting and sewing. I couldn't resist pressing the wrinkles out, though.

It's Monday, the day off. I ran errands all morning (hopefully my goddaughter gets her birthday present on time, thanks to Express Mail). After finally settling at home in the afternoon, I began the Great Curtain Conversion.

Both panels got their tab tops lopped off at a length that included the new hem allowance. One panel got split up the middle to avoid an amateurish center seam in the finished shower curtain. The old hems got opened up for an inch or two at the sides, to facilitate the lengthwise seams I was creating. The uncut panel was stitched between the two half panels, using the finished edges as seam allowances. The new top hem was pressed and stitched, the new side hems were pressed and stitched and the bottom hem was re-completed. Then I got to bust out the buttonhole attachment for my trusty Singer Featherweight. I've never used it before, so I followed the instructions carefully after I marked out the twelve evenly-spaced buttonholes. The buttonholer, a thing of simple, utilitarian beauty, performed without failure. I have the perfect shower curtain. After I hung it, I cleaned up the whole mess.

Now I need bath rugs to match. I read that JCPenney is having a sale. Online, of course.



(Photo added post-posting.)

The dog's raincoat was too big.

I altered it to fit him (there is now a seam across his lower back, just above the personalized embroidery) and mended some puppyhood-era chewed holes. It was a gift given to him with the sweetest of intentions and the assumption that he would grow quite large. He's compact, though definitely a fine example of his breed.