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Saturday, December 31, 2011

and now the end is near...

oh wait, this isn't Frank Sinatra singing "My Way". It's just it's the end of the year and it seems like this year sped by.

Here's a few things I learned this year: Charity work is good, but don't pick a lot of different charities to crochet for because you probably won't have the time - just saying.

In my part of the world, the economy hasn't "recovered" from the "recession". I put quotes around those words because although the media seems to think there has been a complete recovery, it hasn't happened here (yet?) and I know more than a few people who live in different parts of the US that say pretty much the same thing.  So I need to work on my (huge) stash and also swap/sell/whatever the yarn I probably won't use. I have 3 skeins of beautiful bulky autumn varigated yarn. It's gorgeous. But it's wool and the likelihood of my using it is between slim and none. Wool makes my throat and sinuses clog up and that doesn't make for an enjoyable crochet project for me. Why did I buy it? It was gorgeous and I hadn't connected the dots between the watery eyes and my use of wool. (I bet you thought I was going to say "it was on sale";)) But don't worry, I have plenty of yarn.
That if I really plan to make some Christmas gifts or ornaments, the time to start is _now_...well, actually after I get thru the few projects I didn't finish for 2011.And yes, I got projects that go back a few years that aren't finished, unfortunately.

but it's a quiet night, I'm in my jammies so I'm not going to beat myself up about this anymore. I finish what I can, that's all I can do. I want to have more fun with my crochet instead of trying to rush through a project to start a new one. I think my wrist would also appreciate it. It gets pretty bad at work and sometimes (_eeek_) I don't want to crochet when I get home. I know, sounds crazy.

So I want to wish everybody a Happy New Year, I hope the New Year brings you all you could possibly want and to enjoy your crocheting.

Happy New Year

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Happy Hanukah, Merry Christmas, Joyous Kwaanza

or just have a good Saturday if you don't celebrate any holidays this month

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Night Before Christmas for Crocheters

Twas the Night before Christmas (for crocheters

If you've used this poem in the past, the info is CROCHETERS CHRISTMAS EVE, Original knit version by Nancy Massaroni, 2003, rewritten (crochet version) by Dee Stanziano, 2006. Please give them credit.

~ Nancy Massaroni adapted by Dee Stanziano ("Crocheting with Dee")

`Twas the night before Christmas and all around me
There was unfinished crocheting not under the tree,
The stockings weren´t hung by the chimney with care
`Cause the heels and the toes had not a stitch there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
But I had not finished the caps for their heads.
Dad was asleep-he was no help at all.
And the sweater for him was 6´´ too small.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I put down my hook to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash.
Tripped over my yarn and fell down in my stash.

The tangle of yarn that lay deep as the snow
Reminded me how far I still had to go.
When out on the lawn I heard such a noise,
I was sure it would wake up both Dad and the boys.

And although I was tired-my brain a bit thick,
I knew in a moment that it must be St Nick.
Yet what I heard left me very perplex-ed
For nothing I heard was what I expect-ed.

"Move Rowan! Move Patons! Move Koigu and Clover!
Move Shelridge! Move Starmore! Move Spinrite! Move over!
Lopi, don´t circle around, just stand there in line.
Pay attention you sheep and you´ll work out just fine!

I know this is hard as it´s just your first year
But I´d hate to go back to 8 tiny reindeer."
I peered over the sill. What I saw was amazing:
Eight wooly sheep on my lawn all a-grazing!

And then in a twinkle, I heard at the door
Santa´s big boots stomping on the porch floor.
I rose from my knees and got back on my feet.
As I turned around, St Nick I did meet.

He was dressed all in wool from his heat to his toe
And his clothes were hand crochet from above to below.
A bright Fair Isle sweater he wore on his back.
And his toys were all stuffed in an Aran crochet sack.

His hat was a wonder of bobbles and lace
A beautiful frame for his rosy red face.
The scarf on his neck could have stretched for a mile,
And the socks peeking over his boots were Argyle.

On the back of his mitts was an intricate cable.
And suddenly on one I spotted a small label:
"S.C." in duplicate on the cuff.
So I asked, "Hey, Nick, did YOU crochet all this stuff?"

He proudly replied, "Ho, ho, ho, yes I did.
I learned how to crochet when I was just a kid."
He was chubby and plump, a well dressed old man,
And I laughed to myself, for I´d thought up a plan.

I flashed him a grin and jumped up in the air,
And the next thing he knew, he was tied to a chair.
He spoke not a word, but looked down in his lap
Where I had laid my crochet hook and yarn for a cap.

He began then to crochet, first one cap then 2-
For the first time I thought I might really get through.
He put heels in the stockings and toes in some socks,
While I sat back drinking a scotch on the rocks.

Quickly like magic his hooks they flew,
Good Grief! He was finished by two!
He sprang for his sleigh when I let him go free,
And over his shoulder he looked back at me.
I heard him explain as he sailed past the moon,
"Next year, start your crocheting sometime around JUNE!"