Guess what, Mom? I learned to sew this week. How many times did you try to teach me? How many times did you show me how to painstakingly lay out the pattern with the grain? Pin and cut everything with exacting precision? Pin and sew with exactly 5/8″ seam allowance? Well, we both know none of that stuck. You were like Charlie Brown’s teachers saying “wah-wah-WAH-WAH-wah-wah.”

But then Elaine paid us a visit, and my mother-in-law did something I have never seen before. She cut into the GOOD fabric without a pattern. She laid one of Kendal’s dresses on top of the fabric to “get a rough idea” of how it should be cut and then she sliced away. She reminded me of the Grinch when he made his Santa suit. It made me catch my breath. Frankly, I’m glad you weren’t here, Mom, because I think you might have ended up in the hospital.

Turns out that loosey-goosey-ness provided just the breakthrough I needed to pay attention. You know I hate following rules. And you also know following rules is critical in sewing or the garment doesn’t turn out. Something about Elaine’s crazy-ass cutting gave me permission to BREAK the rules before I even began, which pulverized my road block to sewing. Thanks, Elaine!

So I winged it, and what I made wasn’t quite right. But at least I was finally engaged. Then I tried another project with a pattern and a book this time. I listened to Elaine’s instruction on how to install a zipper…which, surprise! was the same as yours. In the end, I made an awesome cheongsam for Kendal’s Mulan play ALL ON MY OWN. Of course, Mom, it turned out because I ended up following every rule you taught me. I ironed. I pinned. I cut out the pattern with precision. Somewhere in my subconscious your lessons broke through. Thanks , Mom!

Some people have great moms, but not-so-great mother-in-laws.Some people have not-so-great moms, but great mother-in-laws. The lucky, lucky few have great moms and great mother-in-laws. This week reminded me, I’m one of those lucky few.

This week I played around with making a pen and watercolor illustration using Illustrator. I thought it would be interesting to show the steps involved.

Step One:  Using watercolor paper, Sharpie markers and watercolor pencils, I created umbrellas, fans and three little girls. I painted them all loosely, without caring about going outside the lines.

Step Two: I scanned the illustrations, then cleaned them up in Photoshop. This is what they looked like after I tidied them:

Step Three: I placed each of the elements in Illustrator, where I could resize them, recolor them, repeat them and arrange them however I wanted. I played around until I came up with the final design. Here are some variations.

"Knit me an apple," my editor said. So I did.

I wish I could participate in a knitting challenge fashioned after Project Runway, where I was given an assignment, a choice of materials and a deadline. I know I’d love it because of the freelance jobs I’ve done for My Knitting Life magazine.  Take this “challenge” from my editor, for instance. “Knit a giant apple,” she said. So I did.  I sent the apple off a few months ago, but the issue is out just now, and you can pick it up at any Barnes & Noble. It’s worth a read especially if you are a knitter headed to NYC. The article breaks down the best places for yarn-lovers to hit up when they are in the Big City. (I blogged about my creative process of making the apple when the project was due. The small, sad irony is that I was working on it the day Steve Jobs died.)

Past assignments have included creating a scarfed snowman, a squeaky mouse, a sweater for a teapot, and a gigantic rose.

The Snowman Challenge.

Every time I receive an email from My Knitting Life’s editorial department, I get a little thrill, like Heidi Klum is headed down the runway about to divulge the next challenge.  They’ve all been so strange, making me very curious about what’s next . . . will I be knitting a life-size hamburger? a sweater for a motorcycle? Anything is possible, and I say, bring it on!

The Mouse Challenge.

It's an awesome hat ... on an eight year old.

I tried to replicate it exactly as is, just make it bigger.

When last I wrote, I was madly working on my husband’s birthday present. The good news is, I got the hat done by his birthday, and he loved it. The bad news is, it looks way better on our 8-year-old than it does on him

My husband was so excited about the hat he tried to wear it for a day, but it just looked silly because it barely covered his ears. Not ready to wave the white flag on the whole “craft our own birthday presents” thing, I started him a new one right away.

Well, the white flag is waving now. I just tried V.2 on him. And this is what it looks like. Dammit.

WAY too big. I think I have to pull out at least 50 rows.

I'll have to watch movies and knit all day to finish the hat. Not a bad way to spend my b-day.

Today is my birthday and tomorrow is my husband’s. We made a deal this year to boycott store-bought presents and instead make something for each other. No, that’s not true. I’ll restate: I made the plan to hand-craft a present and I imposed my plan on Steve. I told him he could make me anything: a poem, a card, a dinner. Truth be told, he’s miserable about the whole thing. In fact, he actually said this sentence: “I can’t make you a present. This is so unfair! You are going to win!” Win? Win at gift-giving? Men are so funny.

Here’s the thing. Though I do have the clear advantage in the hand-made stuff department, I’m on the fast track to failure. This is as far as I’ve gotten on his hat. His b-day is in less than 24-hours. I don’t think I’m going to make it, especially because I’m dreaming up the design as I go with no graphs. All I have is this inspiration photo of a hat he liked in a store:

Last week I had a grandiose plan to paint him card, write him a poem and present it with a beautiful, Nordic hat. Now I’m down to just a hat. Wish me luck.