a story you can’t see

Today – at least – I snapped a picture of the jacket gifted to a wee gentleman at his 2-year birthday party.

Birthday Coat For J.

Double-sided fleece, self-drafted pattern. Super-pointy hood and seven hand-made pom poms. Trippin on pom pom-makin, biatches

***

Yesterday morning I wake –

after only a few hours sleep –

to the most oppressive sense of fear.

Slaps me awake and lasts at least half the day. I’m up and I try to do a few things then rest, but I can’t. My mind keeps trying to find a way out of the fear. I can’t think of anything else for long, before jolting back. Might as well make the coffee. Hot shower. Time to get up and go. Got responsibilities.

My mind like to drive me mad. Thinking, thinking, over-thinking. Trying to set it aside but it rises up again through my body. Fear racing through my chest and my kids talk to me, my husband asks after me, and I answer as best I can when I can pull my mind off the fixation. Can they tell? I don’t know. I don’t think so. They’d ask if they knew something was wrong.

Days like today I remember smoking. Pulling on a cigarette, getting that edge. Somehow it always seemed to help, keep me in that space of what I thought was alertness, but in reality: agitation.

And anyway: I quit smoking a while back. And now I’m over the bridge and into breaking sunlight when I know the only thing that will help me, since I’ve done prayer on my knees and lit a candle and eaten food and tried to breathe and tried to quit thinking, is to Help Others. Help Without Regard For Return. It’s not even like I think I get some reward if I help. It’s that the state of Helping takes me somewhere different, and things shift, and clarity comes.

My daughter wraps her arms around me. “Love me,” she says. I hold her and kiss the top of her head, her dry straw-scented hair; Heaven. Later. Running bath water. Kitchen light low. Hot water and a tablespoon of molasses. A heater ticks in the dark. My arm: aching. The laughter of my son in another room.

Cold to the bone, a darkness stretching out. Only a small candle but it’s enough.

 

 

 

 

a little warmth, or maybe a lot of warmth actually

UM, it is super-hard to get rid of inventory. I made this a while back but hadn’t taken photos, posted photos, shared in any way, or even put the garment in a local shop. LOL at me because I am a pretty-okay seamstress but not really a businesswoman in any real sense.

Anyway – here we have an all-fleece Max, more in line with the film’s version of the costume than that of the book. Hoping this version finds its way to a sweet little 2T/3T kiddo out there.

[ Etsy listing ]

Super-Duper Extra Warm Max!

Super-Duper Extra Warm Max!

Super-Duper Extra Warm Max!

shout-out to John P.

PIKACHU I CHOOSE YOU

I present you two custom hats for my little ones. Who are into Pokeman like you wouldn’t believe.

Pikachu & Raichu

Plotting

All Ears

Phee’s Raichu hat was made from orange minkee. Extremely messy to work with, although not the worst I’ve sewn with.
Pikachu & Raichu
I Choose You!

For a change: a super-super fast project, and a very inexpensive one (it cost about $4.50 per hat). I also drafted the patterns by hand. For sewing, I used a walking foot, although I am adroit enough at handling fleece it wasn’t needed. A stretch needle assured no skipped stitches; I also double-stitched each seam for sturdiness.

I am particularly proud of the Raichu ear squiggles. For those, I sewed a tube from a long strip of fleece, simultaneously attaching 1/4″ elastic at the seam as I stitched, and stretching the elastic while I sewed. Ralph turned the tube and the squiggles curled up on their own.

Normally I don’t dig working with cheap-ass fabrics and this time was no exception. Particularly working with inexpensive fleece, ew. The main point is, the kids are pleased.