So there I was, in my living room pacing back and forth with my sleep resistant almost-toddler strapped to my back in a podeagi. We are attempting to alter his sleep schedule to be slightly more convenient for Papa Bear and myself. However, my sweet Son is a rouge. It it's going to take some perseverance to make this new schedule stick.
While pacing back and forth in front of my couch, I'm also winding a center pull ball from some yarn I was using to crochet a blanket. I had not gotten very far before I realized that there was not enough of these yarns to complete a crocheted blanket. A knitted blanket would be doable, but knitted blankets take soooooo loooooong. Perhaps I will crochet a family of matching earflap hats to keep our heads warm when we move to the northwest.
My center pull ball is bring wound on the cardboard center of a paper towel roll because my nostepinne is nowhere to be found. And I was desperate. (Auto correct on my phone had to be taught the word 'nostepinne'. It is also not in the additional dictionary I keep on my phone. Maybe I've gone a bit too deep into the fiber-craft underworld.)
While doing this mindless activity my mind is hopping back and forth between soaping and felting. I'm all sorts of proud about my soaping skills. Soaping requires fairly precise measuring and timing. Those two requirements are the reason baking and I have such a strained relationship. But my soap is coming out a lot better than my cookies.
Felting! An untouched craft for me. Sculpting with wool! AND it seems to be the perfect medium for a project I've been gnawing on in the creative part of my brain-box: Month by month fetal models scaled up to two inches until reaching that point and then life-size afterwards. I desperately wanted something more tangible than drawings or fruit to understand my Son's inter-womb development.
Alas, learning a new fibercraft is not really priority.
That is all.
