For someone who happens to be "unemployed" by normal standards, my life seems to be governed by deadlines right now--moreso than when I was actually employed with a real job.
Not that I'm complaining, because I am not. I am thankful that I have deadlines to meet, because that means money in my pocket for my hard work, and Lord knows trying to make multiple handmade items inside a tiny timeframe, with Christmas looming in the near future isn't exactly...easy.
Today is my deadline for making 54 little girls' dresses, to be shipped to the buyer and then to Africa, to a town/school where the children are in desperate need of clothing. It is 6:10 am, and I have the dresses spread out before me. Sleeves, zippers, and finishing touches are all that await.
I can do this...
Friday, November 30, 2012
Friday, November 23, 2012
Shopping Season has begun.
I traditionally spend Black Friday at home. Usually, I spend the day cleaning my downstairs in preparation for decorating for Christmas--the tree, ornaments, wall decorations, and even the front porch. Today, however, was different.
I woke with a plan in my head: dishes, shower, make dresses to fill the order I've been working on entirely too long, and then, time permitting, do some cleaning and start the decorating.
HA!
That was a funny joke!!
I spent the better part of my day with my mom, traveling to Shepherdstown, Sharpsburg, and Williamsport. I am tired. But I did my part to support small businesses today, as I do not plan to leave the house tomorrow.
Shopping is not my favorite activity...not by a long shot. I don't really like anything about it, especially between Black Friday and New Years. Rarely, very rarely, I'll get a wild hair and want to go snatch up a particularly good deal (like last year, I stood outside of Target from about midnight to 4 am just to get a set of flannel sheets and a pre-lit tree--and I was in and out inside of 10 minutes. I don't mess around!), but generally, I like to avoid the crowds. I think it's ridiculous that people find it acceptable behavior to elbow and shove others out of the way for CrockPot they probably don't even need, or for the latest, greatest iPod that their kids are going to smash to bits less than 3 hours after taking it out of the box on Christmas.
The best thing about doing the small business shopping on Black Friday is this--the folks that ring you up at the register are usually the owners of the establishments. They are genuinely happy to have your business, and will usually strike up a conversation with you simply because they can. You don't run across the minimum-wage, seasonal workers that don't give a crap that you're there scoring "crazy good deals" while they would rather be at home, sleeping. Target and WalMart aren't going to say, "Hey, thanks for shopping here today. I really appreciate your business and hope you come back soon!" Most of the checkers at those stores would just as soon flip you the bird than say hello...
I cannot wait until the shopping season is over.
Monday, November 19, 2012
'Tis the Season
It's hard to believe that Thanksgiving is just a few days away, isn't it? I always wind up getting in the "holiday spirit" sometime after the turkey coma wears off and I've recovered from the pumpkin pie overdose. This year, however, I seem to be getting into it earlier than usual.
When I was a teenager and in my early twenties, my mom would, without fail, call me a Scrooge. I was not fond of Christmas music--only the hymns sung in church. I was not fond of Christmas movies--they were all so predictable and essentially the same as every other Christmas movie. I also wasn't really into decorating for Christmas. Now that I have my own house, a husband, and a baby on the way...things are changing.
I hang a wreath on my front door, and sometimes, if I feel really wild and crazy, I'll even hang garlands on my porch rails. I hang Christmas lights on the porch, too (and only there, because it's the only part of the roofline that doesn't require a ladder). This year, I've been watching Christmas movies on the Hallmark Channel almost every weekend (they started early this year!). The time is drawing near for me to haul the Christmas tree up the basement steps, dust it off, and begin transforming our house into a cozy habitat for the winter months.
This year is different for me, I guess because I'm in the nesting stages. Tater Tot will be here before we know it--and probably (hopefully) a couple weeks sooner than expected. We have two dogs this year, not just one. My parents are finally within a reasonable driving distance and will stay within a reasonable driving distance. We're smack in the center of his family and mine, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
What I'm most excited about, though, are the gifts that I have planned all year and worked on so hard for our families this year. As I type this, I'm waiting for a few knitting patterns to print so that I can begin work on his sister's and her husband's gift while we watch TV this evening.
My to-do list for gift-giving includes:
When I was a teenager and in my early twenties, my mom would, without fail, call me a Scrooge. I was not fond of Christmas music--only the hymns sung in church. I was not fond of Christmas movies--they were all so predictable and essentially the same as every other Christmas movie. I also wasn't really into decorating for Christmas. Now that I have my own house, a husband, and a baby on the way...things are changing.
I hang a wreath on my front door, and sometimes, if I feel really wild and crazy, I'll even hang garlands on my porch rails. I hang Christmas lights on the porch, too (and only there, because it's the only part of the roofline that doesn't require a ladder). This year, I've been watching Christmas movies on the Hallmark Channel almost every weekend (they started early this year!). The time is drawing near for me to haul the Christmas tree up the basement steps, dust it off, and begin transforming our house into a cozy habitat for the winter months.
This year is different for me, I guess because I'm in the nesting stages. Tater Tot will be here before we know it--and probably (hopefully) a couple weeks sooner than expected. We have two dogs this year, not just one. My parents are finally within a reasonable driving distance and will stay within a reasonable driving distance. We're smack in the center of his family and mine, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
What I'm most excited about, though, are the gifts that I have planned all year and worked on so hard for our families this year. As I type this, I'm waiting for a few knitting patterns to print so that I can begin work on his sister's and her husband's gift while we watch TV this evening.
My to-do list for gift-giving includes:
- Katie's hat (birthday in early December)
- Maddie's bunny (Christmas)
- Tara & Sean's ornaments (Christmas)
- Washcloths (Wendy ordered some to give as a gift)
- Wade's (husband) quilt...which he will receive to unwrap, finished or not...
- Oatmeal Raisin cookies for John (Christmas)
- Purse for Kenzie (Christmas)
- Strawberry jam (several jars for several family members
- Snickerdoodles (Christmas gift for Uncle Mike)
'Tis the season, indeed. I need to get this stuff done so I have some time to relax!
Monday, November 12, 2012
The Weekend
So this past weekend was the 42nd Annual Waterfowl Festival in Easton, MD. Husband and I have been looking forward to it since last year, on the way home from #41. His big excitement is the World Championship Goose Calling competition, and mine is the DockDogs show and everybody else's dogs. And yarn.
Yarn, at the Waterfowl Fest? Why, yes! There happens to be a little yarn shop on Harrison Street, and last year when I stopped in, I picked up some really unique lace weight handspun, hand-dyed wool. I have yet to work it up, but it is still pretty and I plan to begin working it after Christmas projects are complete. Well, I wanted to stop in again this year because I was hoping to find some more unique yarn to add to my collection (and yes, I realize that 3 weeks or a month ago, I was all about thinning it out--I still am...but I have a serious addiction).
Into the shop we went on Saturday afternoon. I was one of maybe 3 customers. I was not greeted, nor was I acknowledged. At all. As I browsed, thinking to myself that I wasn't going to leave empty-handed, I couldn't help but overhear the responses that the shop owner (?) had for each of the questions the other customers had for her. Every single one of her responses was negative. And it wasn't just a "No, we don't currently have that--but I'm expecting more in a couple of weeks" type of negative. It was a rude negative, almost as though she was fed up that people had the nerve to enter her store during operating hours. How dare they!!
Those of you that know me are aware of the great lengths to which I go in order to obtain yarn. Brace yourselves, because this may come as a shock: I told Husband, not in a whisper, that I didn't need to support someone who can't even say hello to her customers and that I was ready to leave.
It wasn't until yesterday, shortly before we left, that Husband suggested we go into a particular tent. And what did they have? Alpacas.
And yarn.
Yarn, at the Waterfowl Fest? Why, yes! There happens to be a little yarn shop on Harrison Street, and last year when I stopped in, I picked up some really unique lace weight handspun, hand-dyed wool. I have yet to work it up, but it is still pretty and I plan to begin working it after Christmas projects are complete. Well, I wanted to stop in again this year because I was hoping to find some more unique yarn to add to my collection (and yes, I realize that 3 weeks or a month ago, I was all about thinning it out--I still am...but I have a serious addiction).
Into the shop we went on Saturday afternoon. I was one of maybe 3 customers. I was not greeted, nor was I acknowledged. At all. As I browsed, thinking to myself that I wasn't going to leave empty-handed, I couldn't help but overhear the responses that the shop owner (?) had for each of the questions the other customers had for her. Every single one of her responses was negative. And it wasn't just a "No, we don't currently have that--but I'm expecting more in a couple of weeks" type of negative. It was a rude negative, almost as though she was fed up that people had the nerve to enter her store during operating hours. How dare they!!
Those of you that know me are aware of the great lengths to which I go in order to obtain yarn. Brace yourselves, because this may come as a shock: I told Husband, not in a whisper, that I didn't need to support someone who can't even say hello to her customers and that I was ready to leave.
It wasn't until yesterday, shortly before we left, that Husband suggested we go into a particular tent. And what did they have? Alpacas.
And yarn.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Knit-worthy? Or not...?
It'll be here before we know it, and I'm sure most of you (like me) probably aren't quite ready for Christmas just yet. I'm not completely ready, as I am still working on my order and filling in my spare time with Christmas knitting, but I know that at least one person will receive an unfinished gift. It'll probably be Husband...
Over the last few days, I've made 2 sets of French Press Felted Slippers (pattern is available for purchase here), as well as Grumpy, a free download from KnitPicks.com. Someone is actually going to receive Grumpy as their Christmas gift.
As a knitter, I usually find people making comments such as, "Oh, I saw this ___ and thought I'd pass on buying it. You can make that, right? Because I'd really like one..." and "Well that looks pretty easy. Isn't it kind of cheap to make all your gifts, though?" And in that case, "cheap" is not intended to mean "inexpensive." My favorite comment of all time, however, was made by a girl on my floor in college. She saw me knitting scarves (because I was broke and needed something to give for Christmas to my family members) and asked me how much I would charge for one. When I told her my price, which was actually far too low for the amount of work involved, she scoffed at me and almost exclaimed, "I can get one at WalMart for less than that!" My response? "Go ahead. You clearly don't deserve the time and effort it takes for me to make one..."
When people make comments like what I've shared above, it makes me think about how knit-worthy they really are...or aren't. Just because I am capable of making something that someone likes does not mean that I will make that item for that person. In fact, it makes me even less likely to make them anything.
I mean, let's really think about it for a minute or two. How much time does the average shopper spend in lines at stores on Black Friday, fighting crowds of unreasonable size and strength, just to snag something mass-produced at a next-to-nothing price for someone on their giving list, while someone else is probably buying that same gift for that same person?
My Christmas shopping happens when I want it to, at JoAnn Fabrics, my local yarn shops, and the supermarket. The construction of my one-of-a-kind, made-just-for-you gifts are very time-consuming, and sometimes extremely labor-intensive, often taking far more time and effort than Black Friday shopping. The difference is, though, that my hand-made or home-baked gifts are appreciated by the recipients more than a store-bought item would be. Why? Because I made it for that person, and nobody else.
The folks that consistently receive hand-made gifts from me know what goes into them, and they know that my time is just as valuable, if not more so, as my money.
The folks that consistently do not receive hand-made gifts from me do not receive them because they don't have a clue what goes into making them.
Pregnant women seem to expect that I will make them something for their baby. Well, I hate to break it to them, but that is not the case. Being pregnant doesn't entitle one to masses of hand-made gifts, especially when Pregnant has mentioned that she would like "this list of things" for her child. I would like all my debts paid off. Guess who gets to do that? Husband and me--nobody else. We don't always get what we want, but sometimes we get what we need...
...like a lump of coal...
Over the last few days, I've made 2 sets of French Press Felted Slippers (pattern is available for purchase here), as well as Grumpy, a free download from KnitPicks.com. Someone is actually going to receive Grumpy as their Christmas gift.
As a knitter, I usually find people making comments such as, "Oh, I saw this ___ and thought I'd pass on buying it. You can make that, right? Because I'd really like one..." and "Well that looks pretty easy. Isn't it kind of cheap to make all your gifts, though?" And in that case, "cheap" is not intended to mean "inexpensive." My favorite comment of all time, however, was made by a girl on my floor in college. She saw me knitting scarves (because I was broke and needed something to give for Christmas to my family members) and asked me how much I would charge for one. When I told her my price, which was actually far too low for the amount of work involved, she scoffed at me and almost exclaimed, "I can get one at WalMart for less than that!" My response? "Go ahead. You clearly don't deserve the time and effort it takes for me to make one..."
When people make comments like what I've shared above, it makes me think about how knit-worthy they really are...or aren't. Just because I am capable of making something that someone likes does not mean that I will make that item for that person. In fact, it makes me even less likely to make them anything.
I mean, let's really think about it for a minute or two. How much time does the average shopper spend in lines at stores on Black Friday, fighting crowds of unreasonable size and strength, just to snag something mass-produced at a next-to-nothing price for someone on their giving list, while someone else is probably buying that same gift for that same person?
My Christmas shopping happens when I want it to, at JoAnn Fabrics, my local yarn shops, and the supermarket. The construction of my one-of-a-kind, made-just-for-you gifts are very time-consuming, and sometimes extremely labor-intensive, often taking far more time and effort than Black Friday shopping. The difference is, though, that my hand-made or home-baked gifts are appreciated by the recipients more than a store-bought item would be. Why? Because I made it for that person, and nobody else.
The folks that consistently receive hand-made gifts from me know what goes into them, and they know that my time is just as valuable, if not more so, as my money.
The folks that consistently do not receive hand-made gifts from me do not receive them because they don't have a clue what goes into making them.
Pregnant women seem to expect that I will make them something for their baby. Well, I hate to break it to them, but that is not the case. Being pregnant doesn't entitle one to masses of hand-made gifts, especially when Pregnant has mentioned that she would like "this list of things" for her child. I would like all my debts paid off. Guess who gets to do that? Husband and me--nobody else. We don't always get what we want, but sometimes we get what we need...
...like a lump of coal...
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Cabin-fever-induced insanity?
I'm not sure what my grumpiness is the result of. It could be the fact that I'm pretty much confined to my house since I no longer work; it could be that the sun has not shown itself in the last week and I am lacking in Vitamin D; it could be that I'm just sick and tired of spending every waking hour with my loving, but oh-so-obnoxious, dogs. I'm not really sure...but it seriously feels like I'm going off the deep end this week.
Husband is working 16-hour shifts until the power company says otherwise. That means, he has to be at work by 6 am and doesn't get off work until 10 pm. Our conversations this week have mainly consisted of "I missed you! Let's go to bed, I'm tired." or whatever we happened to text about twice throughout the course of the day.
I have housework to do. I have an order to complete (which I am well on my way to completing, thankfully). I have a room to clean out so that I can shampoo the carpets in preparation for our Tater Tot's arrival. So what do I wind up doing with most of my days? I knit.
It's awful. Productive, yes, but awful nonetheless. As much as I like my quiet and my solitude, I am not a solitary, keep-to-myself type of person. Social interaction is necessary, even if it's just sitting around with someone else watching movies or reruns on the TV. The presence of another individual works wonders on my well-being.
You may find it sad that the highlight of my week (aside from seeing my husband for 20 minutes a night before we turn in) will occur in approximately 2 hours, when I go to the supermarket cafe to knit with a few other ladies...but this is what happens when you're me. Knitting group means that I can escape my house for a few hours and not have to clean up the clumps of dirt and leaves tracked in by my dogs. It means that I don't have to vacuum again today. It means that I can talk to actual people, face to face, and they will respond with more than a groan and a slobber-filled shake of the head.
It means that I can feel like I'm not an outcast or a recluse.
I may go in early, just for the heck of it.
Husband is working 16-hour shifts until the power company says otherwise. That means, he has to be at work by 6 am and doesn't get off work until 10 pm. Our conversations this week have mainly consisted of "I missed you! Let's go to bed, I'm tired." or whatever we happened to text about twice throughout the course of the day.
I have housework to do. I have an order to complete (which I am well on my way to completing, thankfully). I have a room to clean out so that I can shampoo the carpets in preparation for our Tater Tot's arrival. So what do I wind up doing with most of my days? I knit.
It's awful. Productive, yes, but awful nonetheless. As much as I like my quiet and my solitude, I am not a solitary, keep-to-myself type of person. Social interaction is necessary, even if it's just sitting around with someone else watching movies or reruns on the TV. The presence of another individual works wonders on my well-being.
You may find it sad that the highlight of my week (aside from seeing my husband for 20 minutes a night before we turn in) will occur in approximately 2 hours, when I go to the supermarket cafe to knit with a few other ladies...but this is what happens when you're me. Knitting group means that I can escape my house for a few hours and not have to clean up the clumps of dirt and leaves tracked in by my dogs. It means that I don't have to vacuum again today. It means that I can talk to actual people, face to face, and they will respond with more than a groan and a slobber-filled shake of the head.
It means that I can feel like I'm not an outcast or a recluse.
I may go in early, just for the heck of it.
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