Crochet! pt. 2

While I’m waiting for Catherine to have her baby, I thought I would post the follow up to this post. I was going to wait until Catherine had the baby, but then I didn’t want to make that post about me. However, if she’s had her baby and I didn’t know it, I apologize for any inadvertent stealing of thunder.

The blanket was a gift for Catherine, that I gave to her at her shower.


She loved it (and laughed at the card I gave her) Aunt Sheree loved it. Aunt Debra was impressed, and I didn’t think I could impress her.

Here’s what it looked like before seaming:


And here’s a close-up:


It’s hard to tell, but I did knit a different design for each square.


Thank yous:

Jamie and Natalie for allowing me to bribe them with dinner to teach me how to block




Suzanne for teaching me to crochet

Everyone else I may be forgetting


I also gave her a pair of booties, and five little dishcloths/dust rags/spit-up rags.

She was pleased and impressed. I’ve made a family heirloom.

I was relieved.

I’m never quite sure how someone will react to my knitting. Last year, I knit this huge red and gold blanket for a co-worker who is a huge Harry Potter fan.

I’ve never seen the blanket in any photos of that kid.

Now, whatever your thoughts on that may be, if someone goes through that much effort, even if you hate the blanket, take at least one damn photo for the knitter.

Then I wondered if maybe she didn’t know how much time that took.

Even the smallest knitted items take at least two hours. (unless you’re Kate).  The larger ones can take well over 60 hours.

Sometimes even a hundred hours.

Out of someone’s life.

That they could have been using to do something else.

But instead, your knitter is knitting for you- something to keep you warm, something you will cherish. That’s love. That takes a lot of time and effort and money. It’s not like just walking into Target and picking something off the shelf. A lot of time is put into what color you’ll like (although, if we’re being honest, my friends and family are color-coded) and what pattern should be used. Your knitter is thinking constantly about you while they knit, especially when answering, “Who are you knitting for?” and sharing some great stories. And whenever you put on that scarf/those socks/wrap up in that blanket, you are wrapping yourself in that person’s love.


Of course it is. But it’s true. Ask any knitter- they don’t spend all that effort for just anybody.  Even if they don’t always say it- that knitted (or crocheted) object is proof. Time spent on you when they could have been doing something else.

I’m so glad my family realizes and appreciates this.

The co-worker mentioned above? She won’t be getting any more knits from me.

Kate wrote a similar post a couple of years ago. She’s much more amusing and eloquent. It’s a great read.

Now, I’m going to sit back and wait for Catherine’s new baby.

Push ’em out, shove ’em out, waaaay out! *clap*

Push ’em out, shove ’em out, waaaay out! *clap*


Royal Baby

I know. I know a lot of you don’t care about the wee lad.

But if you’re one of those people, why do you have to piss on the parade of those of us who do? We’re not doing anyone any harm.

“Well, the media coverage….”

… has nothing to do with the rest of us. Change the channel, ass.

“Other things are happening in the world.”

Like the earthquake in China and the prison break at Abu Ghraib? Helen Thomas dying? I know. Lots of us Royal watchers know it. A lot of us are able to hold multiple pieces of information in our heads. I personally check my local news and Google news every morning.

“But why the fuss?”

Who knows, really? Everyone has their own reasons. Some have that image of those two young boys who lost their mother, and are happy they found happiness.

Some love the love story between Will and Kate, a  “commoner” who became a princess. (fine, Duchess) Who didn’t want that growing up?

Some just love a baby.

Who cares?

Let us enjoy it.

And besides, maybe a Royal watcher you know will have food to celebrate.



I bet if you’re really nice, they’ll share the tea cakes and tea.



So sit back, have a tea cake (or a Zebra cake- shut up), watch us revel in our nuttery, and keep your mouth closed.




A couple of weeks ago, I received a text from my cousin Catherine. She said she had some books she was donating, and wondered if I wanted to take first pick.

As if she had to ask.


It’s like she doesn’t even know me at all.


Then she was telling me that I didn’t need to take so much, was I sure (something to that effect- I was too busy hauling treasure to my car).


Me: Are you kidding? I was planning a Scrooge McDuck nose-dive onto your dining room table on my drive over here.


This is going to be fun.

General Update

Hey guys, sorry I’ve been kind of off and on with the blogging. I just wrote so much in May that I figured we could all use a break. I have two big blog months coming up- I’m going to try to post something Halloween related every day in October. And of course there’s NaBloWriMo.

I’m anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Royal Baby, and my cousin’s baby as well. (What? They’re both named Catherine and have long brown hair. They’re practically interchangable!)

I’m knitting two projects at once, both for Richie. I’m knitting him a pair of fingerless mitts (my first ever). I knit until I come to a difficult spot, then work on the argyle scarf until I can get some help at Knit Night.

I gave up reading Romola by George Eliot. I usually give any book written before 1920 about 100 pages to catch my attention. (It can take longer with older books) It took me four days to read 112 pages. Done.

In a bit of baking revenge, I baked up an apple pie and chocolate chip cookies. So there, sugar cookies!

And… that’s it, I guess.

National Sugar Cookie Day

This was not supposed to be a real post. It’s National Sugar Cookie Day, and I’m on the last episode of season one of Dr. Who. I was going to make some sugar cookies, watch the episode, then post a quickie about me being absent because of May.

But fate it seems had other plans for me.

Heartless bitch.

First, it took me forever to find a recipe because apparently everyone and their brother’s dog has their own way of doing things. So I settled on this one.

I got my ingredients


and mixed happily away.

I even burned the butter. I had to turn on the exhaust fan and open the kitchen window.

In July.

In St. Louis.

Anyways, I’m mixing away happily, thinking I’m going to have sugar cookies and tea for breakfast  tomorrow because I’m a grownup and I’m allowed and I notice that my mix is all crumbly.

Sugar cookie dough is not supposed to be crumbly.


If you Google “is sugar cookie dough supposed to be crumbly”, Domino sugar will tell you (first of all) to not melt your butter or margarine because the dough separates.



Apparently you’re supposed to cut the butter into small pieces then mix it like that, but this recipe doesn’t tell you that because you’re tacky and this site hates you.

It does tell you also, that if your dough is dry or crumbly, to add milk. I added one teaspoon first, then added two tablespoons like I was supposed to in the first place. The dough was still crumbly, but was holding into ball shapes.

So I baked  about eight.


They basically taste like sugar biscuits.

We threw it all out.

Stupid sugar cookies.

All of this time that I could have been watching Dr. Who, and instead fought with dough demons.

I’m going to have a Fudge pop and then go to bed.



I’m going rockabilly!


Well, I’m going to try. Here’s how this whole thing came about. (It’s kind of a winding story- try to keep up.)

Last week, Richie and I watched a documentary called Mansome. In this documentary, they talked to a rockabilly male salon owner. (Male owner of a salon for men) I won’t go into detail about him because he was kind of a dick. But suddenly I blurted out,

“Can I rock the rockabilly look?”

Richie: “Of course you can.”

Of course he would say that. He’s my boyfriend. He has to say that.

So I jumped over to Twitter (like you do) to get a general opinion.

I received two responses- a yes from Rachel, and a yes from Michelle, who’s the only rockabilly person I know.

She agreed to meet me at Shameless Grounds, the coffee shop where she works.

She made me a sandwich and taught me about rockabilly. And, of course, I took notes.

I’m going to publish them here for those of you who want to be rockabilly but don’t have an awesome friend to make you a sandwich and teach you how. Make yourself a sandwich; I’ll teach you how.


Victory Rolls:

victory rolls

Not really for everyday wear, as it can damage your hair. It’s more of a going-out deal.

Pompadour bangs:


Bandana hair:

bandana hair

Bettie Page:

bettie page

Flowers are always a nice touch.

Whichever style you choose, remember: practice makes perfect.


Winged eyeliner:

winged eyeliner

Red Lips:


Red Nails:



A little conservative- not too much above the knee.


Pencil Skirt:

pencil skirt

Swing Dress:

swing dress

Wiggle Dress:

wiggle dress

Sweater Set:



rockabilly blouse

Capri Pants:



Flats are good for pants and skirts. Heels are better for the dresses. That’s where I hit a snag since I gave up heels this year. But, when I had lunch with Catherine a few weeks before Easter, she mentioned that my flat boots were about an inch high. So maybe I could get away with kitten heels?

Kitten Heel


Here are some clothing websites to check out:

Pin Up Girl Clothing (obviously)

Unique Vintage

Mod Cloth (I love their one piece swimsuits)

Daddy O’s

Dollhouse Bettie (for all your lingerie needs)

Also check out local vintage shops in your area.

Basically, just google rockabilly and search the sites and you’ll see that most outfits start to have similar pieces and a kind of similar theme as you look through them.

I’ll admit I’ve tried several looks throughout the years to see what fits me. I think what I like about rockabilly is that it’s feminine while still managing to be punk. (See visible tattoos) Try it out, see what you like. Good luck!

And remember:

Practice makes perfect.

Remind me of this when I’m crying because my stupid baby fine hair won’t do what it’s supposed to.


Go forth, my children, and rock a Billy! (that’s where the name comes from, right?)