Another Halloween . . .

Tis the season, once again, and time for ghouls and goblins and all manner of terrifying beasties . . .

They clamber out onto the streets to participate in that hallowed tradition of begging friends and strangers alike for something sweet to eat . . .

It is my favorite time of year. The crunchy leaves and the cooling air, leaving us no choice but to start wearing sweaters again. It is the start of something precious . . . the holiday season and the deep cold of winter. I plan to snuggle my little people close this winter, enjoy our old traditions and maybe introduce a few new ones.

Welcoming Hugo

Having a baby, welcoming a new member to the family, is such an epic event. Of course it touches, challenges, and changes everyone in the family as each person shifts into their new roles . . . big sister, mother of five, oldest of a large sibling group. All of my kids have been so helpful as I passed (again) through the demanding tasks of pregnancy, birth, and caring for a newborn. We are now six weeks in with this new little person, and somehow they feel like long and incredibly short weeks simultaneously. Life is nowhere near as “back to normal” as I wish it could be, but that will come. For now we try to enjoy each little breathtaking smile and soak up that glorious newness that Hugo shares so generously with us. Hugo Winchester, little chunk of a boy, 6 weeks old. Yeah, we like him.

Little Crafters

So I stumbled upon this adorable little book at the library (Doodle Stitching by Aimee Ray) while scouring the shelves for ever more knitting pattern books (obsessed much?) and it reminded me of the big bag of embroidery thread I picked up at the thrift store ages ago for a quarter, or some other ridiculously low amount. I said "Wheee!" and checked it out and brought it home, along with the necessary accoutrement of needle work (things like needles, for example) and sat down with the children. I sent them ahead to pave the way to embroidered bliss, brave crafting soldiers that they are, and they triumphed indeed, overcoming pricked fingers and thighs.






Photos of finished works to come! Also, my own attempt at the art.

And now . . .

I'm doing a couple of things.

This is a rather pitiful interpretation of degas, but it might look nice in the bathroom eventually . . .


And I've painted Harry MacLary from Donaldson's Dairy for a certain 3 year old who is a big fan . . .


This TARDIS in my "studio" needs desperately to be finished. Don't worry, it's bigger on the inside, of course.


We'll see if anything ever gets finished in this hectic little life of mine.

Just Some Art. . .

from the past.

far too long . . .

It has been far too long since I paid any attention to my lonely little blog. *pats blog on head* Life has just been insane. But I've been happy and well.

We had a nice Halloween

and the kids got absolute gobs of candy. It was literally insane and, for the first year ever, I felt compelled to buy it off of them to spare their poor teeth.

Now we're gearing up for Thanksgiving next week:


Homeschooling has kept me very busy, but the girls are thriving, making it so very worth it.

My own schooling has also been stealing away my hours. Even painting class has been a source of some stress this semester as I have struggled to find myself there.


I don't even want to try to go back over the past several months and play catch up, but I do want to try keep up, so I'll let go the past and make that my goal.

Knits amid warring hummingbirds

I knit. Not spectacularly, but I can putter my way through simplistic projects. I'm not picky about fibers or about notions. My current small work of mild wonder, this HipToBeSquare blanket (from ravelry), is cast with synthetic baby soft yarn on my thrift store scavenged aluminum needles, the blue rubbing away on the tips.



Knitting gives me fantastic feelings of warm fuzziness, and not just from petting all that delicious yarn. It feeds my artistically driven need to create, watching lovely patterns emerge from my clumsy old hands. Not that my creations are flawless; far from. But even with the missteps along the way, the beauty of the pattern shows through in the end.



There is also a meditative stillness in the act of knitting that is hard for me to experience in any other way. My mind is an insistent multitask-er, nearly always fretting over bills not yet due and highly unlikely catastrophes on the horizon. As I sit and work at knitting, counting away the stitches and rows, my mind is often able to let go of things. My other creative outlets give me no such relief; they often make me think too much. Knitting provides a much needed release of thought, the dialogue of my mind ceasing, or slowing down to a dull murmur."When walking, walk. When eating, eat." When knitting, knit.