So. These last few weeks I find my dear friends have a lot more swearing to do than the usual. There’s a lot of burn out, a lot of stress and fatigue and worry about an uncertain future. Personally I’ve been channeling a lot of my worries and stress through stabbing and swearing at things. Sometimes with pretty, pretty flowers, to soften the blow of all the cussing. and yet, the cussing remains…
Flying Fucks, catching the sweet breezes…A tiny little thing, about the size of a dollar coin…
The demand has been huge, and gratifying. I’m now booked up for a while, happily stitching my unladylike profanities into whatever I can. I’ve even bought more supplies to keep the obscenity-train chugging right along.
That said, there are other things I’ve made too. There was definitely swearing involved for both these projects, but they weren’t nearly as overtly involved as the other pieces. A tiny teacup, a tiny glowing fairy. Some drawings that are going into the shop later. They’re also gratifying, in their own way…
A tiny teacup! With flowers!A tiny fairy, in with my teacup collection.
These days, I think it’s important to vent. To get things out. To have some tiny, delicate thing that agrees with you about how you feel. Something pretty, and crass, and expressive in a way only the needle arts can express. I’m just grateful people want to share their cusses with me, and delight in my stabbing them into linen.
The next few months will be even more stressful for everybody. I suspect I’m going to have a lot of stitch-swearing to work on…
Hello, my dears! I hope everyone is alright. I hope wherever you are you’re safe and comfortable. And it can be okay if some days you just feel like a complete mess. I’m pretty sure that’s the new normal now. Recently I’ve been knitting up Gutmonsters again, because I knew so many people that seemed to need one. Gutmonsters, despite their monstery ways, are oddly soothing beasts, because there’s something completely delightful about pulling out a bunch of crocheted innards and stuffing them back in. They’ve become champions of being okay with messiness sometimes…
(It’s hard to keep a dignified facade when everybody can see your organs.)
They also help remind me that perfection is not a thing, especially these days. Sometimes its okay to just be enough to get the job done. My best Gutmonsters have a lot of randomness in them. Their guts aren’t proper guts, though there’s usually at least a recognizable brain in there somewhere. They’re mysteriously unidentifiable for the most part. And that’s the best thing about them, in my humble opinion…
So if you’re feeling a little scattered, a little spread out and messy, that’s okay. I think we all need to be, There’s a lot going on. And when you stuff your guts back in again, they don’t always end up in the same place they started. But they’re still useful, still doing the weirdo things they need doing.
Also, I make the worst analogies ever. And I’m totally okay with that…
I’ve had some strange, interesting news these days that I haven’t really been talking about much. My husband is recovering nicely at home, but his health will be on the frail side for the forseeable future. And my FMLA leave is winding to a close. And with a job that deals with the public as much as mine does, it’s a real risk every day for a long exposure to Covid-19. So Matt and I talked it over, and we decided it would be the smart move for me to resign my job and stay home over the winter, helping out and making more art. So, that’s the plan. My coworkers miss me, and I miss them too, but I can’t risk bringing home something horrible for Matt. I already do every time I come home from an errand. Me. I’m the horrible thing. Heh…
So I’ve started stuffing this webpage with buyable delights, as many as I can make. The response so far has been really gratifying, and I’m so happy to see it. Also, Matt and I have added a link to Redbubble so people who wanted prints or merchandise with my artwork can have it. I’m happy about that too; as a kid in middle school my dream was to have my work on a spiral notebook, Lisa-Frank style. That dream has come true!!
Sadly, the original’s sold, but you can get prints now! This house was made for walkin’. It’s what it’s gonna do…
But even with the happy distraction of making new things and seeing them fly out the door here at home, I have worries. The same ones every tiny business has, along with the pandemic worries. I just hope that my attempt to keep my tiny family safer is the right thing to do. I feel like it is. And let’s face it, sometimes the world isn’t exactly subtle with what is and isn’t a good idea anymore. Sometimes you just have to run with whatever you have and make it work as best you can. And I promise to do that…
So this is the new normal. While we’re still very much in the throes of the pandemic things are (sorta) opening back up, which honestly frightens me on a deep and visceral level. We are now seeing levels of violence and levels of social commitment that are new, defining moments for our country. My hometown is at the same time a memorial to a horrible act of police brutality, shellshocked ruins of places that are trying to rebuild and large and small acts of incredible kindness to try to pull us all through.
And right in the middle of all of this–the middle of the protests, the tear gas, the riots and the strange arsons in my neighborhood–my husband had a stroke. There’s never a good time for a major health emergency, but this was an extra layer of worry and suffering for us both. For a few days my husband’s hospital had the National Guard surrounding it, to keep it from burning to the ground. He was allowed no visitors, which was the hardest part for both of us. And I held the fort at the house, alone with a bunch of fire extinguishers and my phone for the Neighborhood Watch updates. There was nothing better in the world than when I could see and hug my sweet husband again.
And now that he’s home, I’m on leave from my job for a while so I can take care of him. He’s recovering nicely, but still needs help here and there, and I’m glad I’m home to be there in case of a stumble. And while I’m home helping Matt out, I’ve started embroidering. It started out simply enough, with little flags that said, “Tea, and Maybe Poison!” But the more I tried things, the more I liked it, and after I had tried out some cobwebs on a black fabric background, I knew I had something else to offer in the shop…
Cobwebs are always fun. Always!My spider was clearly quite sozzled when she wove this web…
Sometimes it really is some of the little things that pulls us through the bad stuff. Like sitting in the back yard. Appreciating the grape vine taking over the fence and anticipating grape jelly. Being happy Matt and I can sit out there together, after all that time apart. I’m so grateful to have him back. And I’m hopeful that we can get through the rest of the year together too…
From time to time I take on a custom knitting project for someone. Maybe a friend, maybe someone online who needs something they just can’t get any other way. Recently a friend of a friend had a very interesting request for a project. He was a Freddy Krueger impersonator, and needed a custom sweater. A Freddy Krueger sweater?!? Really?!? How could I pass up a project like that?!
So we met at a coffeeshop, I took some basic measurements, as well as photos with a sweater he already had. There was a lady in Britain who made old-school Krueger sweaters in bright greens and reds, and it was a gorgeous bit of knitting. But this incarnation was from the TV series instead, and needed a more olive hue instead of the cheerful Christmas-y colors of the early films. So, ready with my measurements and the pattern I had written out in my notes, I was ready to tackle this thing…
But there was a snag, at first. The kind of colors I saw online for this particular project were, shall we say, kinda bright? Certainly not the slightly sinister tones I needed to make the sweater look right when it was finished. And the nice, dark olive I needed was unavailable in any of the online shops I checked until it occurred to me to try Amazon. Even then, a tea rinse would probably be a smart idea to sadden those bright hues a touch. I was using Plymouth Encore, an excellent acrylic/wool mix yarn that’s a decent pick for a sweater that may see a lot of wear and needed some easy washing. Did it have enough wool to pick up the tea? The answer, happily enough, was yes, and my samples had a slightly browner hue…
So, now that I had a strategy, it’s knitting time!
I am enjoying how the reverse stockingette for the red stripes adds extra dimension!
Hello there! Yes, there’s more blathering about the perils of tip-toeing down the perfidous path of knitting! You poor darlings!…
Bunbun the Kitty insisted on helping me with my illustration. Stealing the pen and lying on the paper is not super helpful, Bunbun.
Chapter 6: The Gauge Swatch.
So now you’ve been knitting for a little while, and you’re feeling confident! You can cast on like a pro, you have stopped dropping stitches and your garter stitch is nice and even. So’s your stockingette. You can purl with the best of them. Your pot holders and scarves are wonders of knitting to behold. And you no longer have the new-knitter tight-clutch anymore. Not you! And you’ve become so confident with your knitting prowess that you look at helpful instructions about gauge swatches and are all, “Hah! I don’t need to do that! That’s for the noobs! Not me! My gauge is clearly 4 stitches to the inch on size 8 needles with worsted! Perfect!”
Oh, you poor doomed soul…
1: Start a fun sweater pattern with unfamiliar yarn you just brought home. Look at the gauge measurements and go, “Eh. That’s pretty much what I knit anyway. I don’t need to eat up time making a gauge swatch I don’t need.”
2: Snuggle the yarn. It such pretty yarn. It cries out to be a sweater! *your* sweater! Right now! Right this second!!
3: Cast on with wild abandon and start some ribbing. Stop two rows in and think, “Huh, these stitches are a little stretchy. But it’s ribbing, it should be fine. I think I need a glass of wine!”
4: Pour yourself half a bottle of wine and put on The Craft. Knit happily for several hours. Notice the yarn is sliding a bit loosely, but merrily knit on. Marvel on how the wine keeps your fingers nice and loose while you knit.
5: Finish off the wine and yell happily at the movie. Cheer on the magical catfight at the end. Then look down at the cosy knitting on your lap and realise it’s HUUUUUUGE…
6: Curse at your wine-sozzled fingers. Curse at the movie you were enjoying so much 5 seconds ago. Curse at the pretty, pretty yarn and the pretty, pretty circus tent you’ve been making all this time. Curse at the ghost of Elizabeth Zimmerman, who so sweetly kept reminding you to do that gauge swatch before you got all crazy with that yarn. Curse curse curse!
7: Should you rip it out? Should you rip it out? Should you? You should, you know. Frog that bastard and start over. All the way over. Correctly. Like the knitting badass you know you are. You can do it. Even though it’s hours out of your life. And that sweet magical catfight you watched. It’s there, right where the stitches got extra loose. You were laughing so hard, and that was the last glass of wine, too. Man, that was good stuff…
8: Keep knitting anyway. Decide instead of a shapely pullover it’s going to be a tunic. Keep hearing the psycho mom from Carrie chanting, “They’re all going to laugh at you…they’re all going to laugh at you…” Stubbornly plug on. Of course, now your gauge is too tight because you’re wound up. Try not to get too tight on the neck ribbing. Mutter evil things to yourself…
9: After much cursing, another couple of nights with wine and more horribly funny schlocky movies, you’re done! With your circus tent! That has bits that seem too tight!! Hear the sweet voice of Elizabeth Zimmerman in your head, reassuring you that blocking can fix a lot of things. Hope to hell she’s right, or you’re going to go find her grave and yell at it for a while. She’d understand. She was that kind of lady.
10: The tunic, after blocking, is…really not that bad, actually. Friends compliment it, and really appreciate that off-the-shoulder look you’ve got going there. Smile graciously. Smile nervously. Promise the ghost of Elizabeth Zimmerman a nice bottle of wine if she won’t tell the other knitters the truth. And for each and every new project, a gauge swatch shall be knit. Pinky swear…
My illustration of my sweater woes. It’s shaky because of the aforementioned cat-problems. Please don’t mind the extra cat hair. Bunbun helps the only ways he knows how.
Eventually there will be some extremely jacked-up illustrations for these little knitting chapters. When I get to it. Which might take a little bit. So you’ll have to imagine the kind of horrible things I could draw for these pages. If you think of something particularly good, feel free to tell me about it…
Alchemy Yarns: The yarn of your wildest dreams and worst nightmares…
Mrs Mausi’s Guide to Knitting, #13: lacework…
1: Buy delicate, expensive mohair yarn. Snuggle it. Dream of the wonderful shawl you’re going to make.
2: Look at patterns. Beautiful, eyesearing patterns you’d be completely insane to try. Even just reading the patterns makes your brain cells cringe. Pick out an easy lace pattern you can’t screw up too badly. Promise yourself you’ll tart it up with beads and a cool border later on.
3: Snuggle the yarn some more. Awwwwyeahhhhh…
4: Start your shawl. It’s gorgeous! Light, airy, shows off your snuggly yarn perfectly! And it’s knitting up quickly!! Beam with pride. And putting in an emergency saving strand, in case you mess something up? Nah. No way can you mess up something this simple. You’re a better knitter than *that.*
5: Bring your project to work,can let your coworkers coo over it and pet it. Then realize you missed a yarn over…3 rows down.
6: Swear. Swear like a biker. Swear like a biker with an itchy rash. Because it’s mohair, which resists all attempts to fix anything. Swear like a biker who has to unknit 3and a half rows of freakin’ mohair. Think about leaving the mistake and crocheting a goddamn flower over it or something. Nobody would know. But you would. You would know. Forever…
7: Undo 3 and a half rows of lacework, muttering nastily to yourself. Hope like hell you don’t drop a stitch or jack up the other yarnovers too badly. When a helpful friend recommends frogging it instead,laugh the laugh of the knitting damned.
8: One hour later, finally get to your mistake and fix it. Feel the rush of beautiful, flawless stitches. Snuggle your yarn some more–its your friend again!! Ignore the coworker who says, “can’t you just buy that at a store?” No, my dear. You cannot buy this kind of yarny satisfaction.
*You will be repeating steps 6-8 at least three more times, possibly more. I recommend inventing new swears for each flaw, to keep things fresh.
As a lark recently, and to vent about a knitting project I was struggling with, I put up a little chapter in an imaginary book about knitting. It turned out to be a big, big hit, so I suspect I might actually have to *make* this book in the very near future. I should warn you; when you see chapters, they will be out of sequence. Because most knitters tend to jump around in handy guides to knitting, forward and back, to find that one helpful thing they need that now they absolutely cannot find. If you’re a knitter, you’ll definitely understand…
Mrs Mausi’s Guide to Knitting, Chapter 5: Hats…
Pick out several pretty yarns for your project, realise none of them go together. Swear under your breath.
Knit the band slightly too tightly, with nice bamboo needles. Curse a little, undo the stitches, start over. Repeat at least twice.
Question your choice of yarn. Question your choice of needles. Question your skills as a knitter. Switch over to slidey aluminum needles
Just as you’re getting into the zone, watch your stitches slide off your slidey needles. Swear like a sailor. Swear like an annoyed sailor. Swear like an annoyed sailor who picked the wrong bloody needles. Rearrange the whole yarny mess in your lap so it doesn’t slither away. Refuse to change needles, because you can make this work, right? Right? Right!?
Finally get to the decreases on the top. Feel like you’ve climbed Mount Everest with nothing but a salad fork. Hope like hell it won’t ladder much. Punch the air in victory…And remember you still have to embroider stuff on it. Arrrgh…
…The hat? Turned out great, actually. Never let anybody tell you that you can’t get anything done while swearing, because it just isn’t so…
See the expression on my face? You can see the inward cussing, even after it turned out pretty nicely, actually…
It’s been a hectic month, with not much posting from Yours Truly. I have a pretty good excuse, though–I got married! And so far, married life is pretty wonderful, with loads of great surprises. And more than a little paperwork. Eh, whaddaya do?
Anyway, I thought it might be nice to get some normal Maus stuff back on track, and dyed up some roving this morning. A coworker had given me her late mother’s fiber stash, along with several very nice balls of white milled wool. They looked like they would take dye very well, so I mixed up some black and red Jaquard dyes for a nice blended black-cherry sort of thing…
The roving turned out really nice, good and saturated!
While I was adding the red dyes, the pot looked rather…ominous…
What’s in that pot, Maus? What is it? Wool, you say? You sure? It looks…not good…
Sure enough, the minute I put up the photo on my facebook page, all my friends started weighing in with, “That looks…gory!” “It looks like brains!” “Entrails!” “Don’t lie to us, Ms Maus, you put brains in there, didn’t you?” “Brains!!”
So, for the record, I did not stick brains, entrails, or any other unnatural substance in with my lovely, gory looking wool. Because then it would be terribly sticky and hard to clean. Also hard to spin and knit. Gore is nobody’s friend in the fiber arts, my darlings. Though what goes into my gumbo recipes? Wellllll…
The darkest dark, the reddest red, the sparkliest sparkly!!
It started it’s dark and sparkly life in a basement of a museum, surrounded by coffee and polyester sweaters and noise. Lots and lots of noise…
Not pictured: a handheld radio, a cup of tea, gurgling pipes overhead and my frowny little face as I try to concentrate…
I usually bring knitting to my job, to help me unwind between breaks and to sneak a little time into my various projects. More often than not it’s something I spun up myself that demands to be made into something right this minute. Yarn can be pushy like that. So very pushy. This yarn was a dark black, red and white spiral-ply I spun up from one of the beautiful batts at Butterflygirl Designs on Etsy. I’ve bought from her for years, and her goods are always so good. One of the nice things about handspun yarn is that you can keep your stitches pretty simple and let the yarn do all the work of being pretty…
Workplace knitting has it’s own challenges. It’s noisier than home, of course. There’s lots of traffic, and the possibility of spills, crumbs, overcurious coworkers poking at your project, moving it or distracting you enough to drop a stitch or two. I’ve lost count of the times on a break where I answer a workplace question while my hands are moving, and when I look down…I messed up that yarn over. Again. Drat it all. And I mutter quietly to myself when I think nobody can hear me. (But of course my coworkers can totally hear me. I can tell by the snickering)
Then there are the usual jokes. Requests to knit whole sweaters for 20 bucks, or nothing. Various eyerolls, “only grandmas knit” or “knitting nerd” comments. The occasional vampire-slayer remarks. (I actually like these remarks because I get to brandish a knitting needle in a mildly threatening fashion.) But sometimes there are the people who sidle over and gently pet the yarn, or ask if I have time to crank out some wristwarmers for them, or can I make a goofy gutmonster for a birthday or something. I love these people.They get extra guts in their knitted gutmonsters.
Mostly I just like the peace. After I get into the groove a little bit, I can float right off into a nice soft realm of stitches and fluffy textures and away from the workaday life for a little while. I feel a little more rested on a break where I’m working on something. And when I’m finished, I just glow with a little well-earned pride. A moment in a gloomy basement redolent with the smell of burned coffee and old pizza can be the brightest part of my day when I bind off that last stitch…
