Justin’s Hat

Justin’s hat. Or more precisely his second hat, a simpler sequel to this handsome cabled number. Technically third hat, if you count the one he stole claimed from me. Or really fourth, since there’s the bright red acrylic one I crocheted to replace the equally red and acrylic one he lost (also crocheted by me, albeit to a more reasonable length the first time around).

What can I say? The man likes hats.

The pattern was something of a surprise pick, since he’s shown a preference for cables both delicate and bold. I’ve got quite a few cabled numbers in my Ravelry favorites, including ones that were contenders the last time I knit for him.

But rather than another ropey knotwork design, he chose the simple knit-purl texture of Christian’s Hat by Ágnes Kutas. Though I doubt the Fifty Shades of Grey character that the pattern title alludes to crossed Justin’s mind (since neither of us saw the films or read the books), I like to think of it as a secret homage to Folding Ideas’ Lukewarm Defense of Fifty Shades videos, which I’ve watched twice and cannot recommend enough. They’re a thoroughly researched and breathtakingly strange adventure through the fanfiction, adaptation, and film production that yielded the Fifty Shades franchise, and they’re delivered by my favorite video essayist and foldable human, Dan Olson.

If analyzing bad erotica isn’t your cup of piping hot caffeine, I can also recommend The Art of Editing and Suicide Squad and The Art of Storytelling and the Book of Henry—also movies I haven’t seen and frankly could not be compelled to watch under any circumstances. Because yes, I am in the habit of watching analyses of media I have no intention of consuming. Including analyses with the same approximate runtime as the thing they’re critiquing. Without a doubt 2020 has been the Year of YouTube for me.

Anyway, the pattern is free, it fits on a single sheet of paper if you print it (I didn’t, I knit it so quickly), and it’s simple to work and modify if needed. I actually didn’t modify this one, as it’s already designed to fit a 22–24-inch noggin instead of the usual 20–22-inch head. I just sized up from US 4 & 6 needles to US 5 & 7 needles, a standard adjustment for me because I’m a tight knitter.

The yarn, as mentioned previously, was leftover from my Everything Gold Must Stay sweater. I knit this hat before I knit my Topaz shawl, which was a blindingly optimistic move on my part considering I paid zero attention to the amount of yarn I had or the amount either project would require. It worked out more than fine for me, but I can’t in good conscience suggest anyone else make such a foolhardy choice. You wouldn’t, of course, because you are all, I imagine, very prudent, sensible folk with budgets and skin care routines and that sort of thing.

The knitting came together in just four days at the end of September. We snapped the photos on our neighborhood greenway when no one else was around, over the long weekend we both had off from work for Christmas. The best of the dozen-and-a-half shots are above, but honorable mention goes to this gem:

It’s captioned—and I’m quoting Justin here—”Oh salad, you so funny!”

I know. Sometimes I can hardly believe how lucky I am either.

Be Nice or Leave Cross Stitch

Short and sweet today. In July my friend Jorren, of art exchange and handmade Christmas fame, reached out about creating a cross stitch birthday gift for a special person in his life. He wanted something a little snarky but not mean, and suitable for display where kiddos would see it. Traditional lettering was a must, floral elements were encouraged, and the palette needed to include some combination of black, teal, coral, and neon yellow. Together we decided on the phrase “Be Nice or Leave” and this alphabet.

The border took a bit more work. In order to render the detailed lettering without making the entire piece huge, I needed to use 18 count Aida. Fortunately, I had a piece of 18 count fabric on hand (thanks for giving me your cross stitch supplies, Mom!). Unfortunately, patterns for 18 count are far less common than patterns for 14 count, and even among those that do exist, it was challenging to find one where the center area was large enough to accommodate the width of the word “leave.”

First I grabbed this subversive pattern (warning: expletive) from Print and Decor on Etsy. I thought the colors were perfect, but because it was designed for a less ornate font, I couldn’t quite squeeze my text in. Then I snagged this funny pattern from Etsy shop SoEasyPattern, but again, fitting in the text was a no-go. (Note: both of those patterns are actually for 16 count, which I was prepared to buy if I could make the word-Tetris work.)

Finally, I decided to gamble on a pattern designed for 14 count, specifically this one from DeLorai Patterns (warning: expletive). An lo—it worked! Using the Print and Decor palette as a starting point, I plotted out several color substitutions, then made the rest on the fly while picking up floss at the craft store.

Due to the time spent choosing a pattern and the more detailed font and floral motifs, I didn’t leave myself quite enough time to complete the original border as drafted. That area looked barren without something, however, so I replaced it with a simple arch and single bloom. The back of the piece is finished with white felt blanket stitched to the excess Aida.

I’m told the recipient was pleased with the design and has displayed it at home. May it do its part to ward off any unfriendly visitors!

Another Handmade Christmas

This is it, folks! This is the final post documenting things I made last year. After this, I can move on…to catching up from the first quarter of 2019…

I admire anyone whose holiday traditions—whatever holiday it may be—involves making gifts for their loved ones or community members. My gift-making ambitions have always grossly exceeded my available time, resources, and common sense, but in 2018 I managed to make a few little things for some of my favorite people.

Up first, and by request, bowl cozies! From top to bottom, these went to my sister, my mom, and my sister-in-law Heather and her wife Elaina.

Two bowl cozies with a yellow and grey floral exterior fabric and a solid yellow interior fabric

Two bowl cozies with a taupe and cream abstract patterned exterior fabric and taupe and cream dotted interior fabric

Two bowl cozies with light and medium blue tie-dye patterned interior and exterior fabrics

My mom saw these at a craft fair but didn’t see any in a fabric she liked, so she sent me a text suggesting they might be an easy and well-received gift. I used instructions from Happy Hour Stitches, but you can find the details on any number of sites—in fact, Helen’s Closet just posted a tutorial a little over a week ago in a new series on scrap-busting.

My sister’s bowl cozies were made with leftover fabric (you may recognize it from her casserole carrier from the previous Christmas); the others were made with fat quarters from JoAnn. I already had 100% cotton batting on hand, but I needed to purchase 100% cotton thread to stitch everything up, as polyester could melt or scorch in the microwave.

Each recipient’s bowl pair of bowl cozies was served up with a bag of soup mix.

Three pairs of nested bowl cozies, each holding a bag of pre-packaged soup mix

The other gift was for a secret Santa exchange among the members of my D&D group. By sheer coincidence I paired with Jorren, the amazing illustrator from the art exchange. He had been working hard on multiple projects leading up to December, including prints for a holiday pop-up shop and several commissions. I wanted to show my appreciation for his work, so I picked a couple of art-themed gifts: a graphic novel called Junji Ito’s Cat Diary: Yon & Mu and a set of Pentel Arts Aquash brushes.

I needed something to round the package out, and Jorren had just debuted his freelance graphic design business, Mind Fuzz, so I got it in my head that I needed to put his logo on something. Trouble was, he wasn’t using the logo as his profile image, and I couldn’t very well ask him for a copy of it without tipping him off to my plan.

In ninja-hacker fashion, I found a photo that he shared of a t-shirt screen-printed with his logo and proceeded to manipulate it in Photoshop and Illustrator until I had a black-and-white vector image that I could scale and print as a template. I transferred the template to a remnant of black poly cotton blend, embroidered the outlines of the letterforms, and then sewed up the embroidered fabric into a sturdy pouch with a brass zipper. Ta-da!

A black zippered pouch with outline of the words "Mind Fuzz" embroidered in white in a circle in the center of the pouch

I followed instructions provided by Jedi Craft Girl, but as with the bowl cozies, there are countless examples of this and similar pouches online. My pouch is lined with the same black fabric as the shell and interlined with 100% cotton batting to hold its shape. The embroidery is regular old DMC floss in white, stitched up using a hoop and a crewel needle.

A black zippered pouch with the zipper opened to reveal a cleanly finished interior lined in the same black fabric

I ignored the dimensions in the instructions; they were too small for my purposes. My pouch is slightly smaller than I intended at 9 inches tall by 11 inches wide (at the top), but is large enough to fit Jorren’s preferred style of travel notebook, along with a handful of pencils or pens.

Just for fun, I had Justin put together a GIF of the progress shots:

No last-minute sewing, I didn’t drive myself crazy, and everyone loved their gifts—success!

Art Exchange

When my friend Jorren asked me if I’d be willing to do an art exchange, I was beyond flattered—I was intimidated. My D&D group, which is where I met Jorren, is a wildly creative and wickedly clever bunch. To say they’re talented would be to ignore how much work they’ve poured into becoming as good as they are at what they do. Musicians, artists, programmers, writers, cooks, and homesteaders—art and craft are well represented in our group. Jorren could easily be said to be the most dedicated among us, because he’s working toward becoming a freelance illustrator and graphic designer who supports himself full-time with his art. I had seen his work on several occasions, both sketches and completed illustrations, and I was not at all convinced I could put together something comparable to his work.

But he had seen the subversive cross-stitch I made for my sister-in-law Heather, and he wanted something in the same vein. He envisioned a design with the expression “Don’t start no shit, won’t be no shit.” The details were up to me: fonts, colors, and borders were left entirely to my imagination. He elaborated by saying that he was at all not turned off by traditional elements such as florals, script, or muted colors, and if I decided to go that route, to lean into it as hard as I wanted.

With that brief, I picked out the Floral Circle Border Trio Set of 3 Cross Stitch Patterns from TheStrandedStitch on Etsy. Since I hadn’t chosen an alphabet yet and wasn’t sure how large I’d need a floral border to be to fit such a long phrase, a trio of patterns was a great way to hedge my bets.

A cross stitch of the words "Don't start no shit, won't be no shit" surrounded by a floral border and framed in a hoop

The patterns are designed for 14 count Aida. I used the 7-inch hoop design, the largest of the three (the other two patterns were for 6-inch and 5-inch hoops). I followed the instructions to use two strands of floss, and I did’t substitute any colors. The text is the same dark blue used in the flowers; the font is Georgia from the Subversive Cross Stitch website.

I printed the pattern’s chart and used it to plot the arrangement of the words, but only after I had already stitched the entire border. Thank goodness it worked out. I’d like to think that in the future I’ll exercise better judgment and check the layout first—but let’s be honest, I probably won’t. When disaster inevitably strikes, I will be forced to admit that yes, there was a better way and I definitely knew it, and really, I have no one to blame but myself. Till then? Caitlyn: 1, Cross Stitch: 0.

As with Heather’s piece, I finished the back by trimming the excess Aida into a circle a few inches larger than the hoop, using a running stitch to cinch the loose edge, and blanket stitching a piece of white felt as close to the hoop as possible to hide everything.

Half the fun of making the thing was sending these teaser photos to Jorren of my progress:

Collage showing a ring holding bobbins of embroidery floss, a close-up of a cross stitch chart, a close-up of the loose threads on the back of a cross stitch, and the back of a finished hoop covered in felt secured with blanket stitch

He ate it up. 😀 He’s a good friend like that.

You might be wondering what I asked for in exchange. At the time, we didn’t have much in the way of art at home, and basically nothing hanging on the walls. We’d lived in our house for just shy of three years, and we’d come to playfully refer to it as Pineheart because of the heart pine paneling and our own secret love of the idea of having a Big Fancy House with a Name and an Estate. I’d imagined doing some kind of drawing or collage or maybe even cross stitch to represent the house, and in my head I’d pictured a stylized pine tree with shield on it bearing the image of heart. Maybe a sunset in the background, or woodland creatures about the tree.

That’s what I described to Jorren. And do you know what that absolute madman did?

A framed illustration of a cottage-style treehouse with the silhouettes of a cartoon bear and rabbit in the foreground

THIS.

First off, it’s gorgeous. Second, it exceeded my wildest expectations in both scope and detail. He’s put in lots of little nods to us and the house, things I wouldn’t have thought to ask for. Third, whydidyoudothisIdon’tfreakingdeserveit?!

Jorren gave Justin a sneak peek of his progress when he finished the line art, and Justin tipped me off to how to just how awesome it was turning out. I panicked, because even with only a tiny bit of information I knew I was way out of my depth. I didn’t want Jorren to feel disappointed that he’d gotten a bad trade, so I decided to do a companion piece to the one above in attempt to move up to “nice effort” from “laughably unequal.”

A cross stitch of the word "fuck" surrounded by a floral border and framed in a hoop

Yep. That’s about how I felt about the situation.

The pattern is the 6-inch hoop design; everything else is the same as the larger one.

For his part, Jorren seemed really happy with how things turned out. I still can’t believe I came away with such an incredible and personal piece of original art from someone I respect and admire, and I continue to feel like I owe Jorren a little something extra to make things even.

If you’d like to see more of his work, purchase a print, or commission an original design, check out his positivity brand Mind Fuzz on Instagram!

Know Your Vegetables

Over New Year’s weekend, Heather and her wife were kind enough to host Justin and me so that we could visit with the Myers family. We’ve all done our share of going out to ring in the new year, both at intimate gatherings of friends and big parties of strangers, so we were perfectly content to spend this one at home with a plentiful supply of snacks, drinks, and games.

We’re all four of us gamers, so we’re constantly on the lookout for cooperative video games to play with our spouses and as a group. While there are a fair few online co-op games you can play on separate devices—some of our favorites are Gauntlet for the PlayStation 4 and Don’t Starve and Stardew Valley on Steam—it’s harder to find couch co-op games to play with our spouses (and as a foursome when we’re all together) on one TV that aren’t party games.

Enter Overcooked, an adorable couch co-op video game where two to four players are chefs racing the clock to prepare, plate, and serve up meals like soup, burgers, and tacos. In addition to the timer, players are up against challenging kitchen environments like a pirate ship, where the rolling waves cause the prep counters to slide around in changing configurations that can block access to ingredients or tools.

Despite the cooperative nature of the game, players are often inadvertently fighting each other as they try to reach for the same knife or pan, add the wrong ingredients to the dish another person is working on, or run slam-bang into each other as they’re scrambling around the kitchen.

Justin and I had played Overcooked before, and Heather and her wife had already beaten it more than once, but we had never played all together. Since we were familiar with the game’s hazards, we decided that an additional layer of difficulty was necessary to make it sufficiently challenging. And there is, of course, no easier or more instantly accessible way to do this than adding alcohol.

Seeing as it was a holiday weekend, the fridge was conveniently stocked with celebratory libations that suited our purpose.

As we barreled through several levels without any problems, we couldn’t help but think we work pretty well together in stressful situations. A thought which, while it no doubt contained a kernel of truth, was so confidently felt by everyone in the room in a context so obviously ridiculous that it should have been a clue our faculties were waning.

Not long after, as we were scurrying around trying to keep up a steady rotation through all of the tasks and not collide with each other, Heather called out for an onion for the soup she was making. One of us—I can’t remember who, and I wouldn’t stoop to naming them here if I did—had the misfortune to grab the wrong vegetable and then shove it at her with fervent abandon.

“That’s a tomato, you fuck,” said Heather, with the calm condescension you’d expect from the damned explaining the weather in hell.

Gales of uncontrollable laughter obliterated our concentration and ensured swift and total failure. We tried to soldier on, but alcohol-induced hubris and humor claimed us in the end.

And so, when Heather’s birthday rolled around in April, I could think of no better gift to celebrate her hospitality, handmade-worthiness, and general hilarity than to immortalize her words in cross stitch.

The fabric is DMC Charles Craft 18 count Aida in white; the floss is DMC. The pattern for the tomato was derived from a screenshot of Overcooked that I manually transferred to a grid in Illustrator and printed. The text is an unvention: I didn’t even think to look for an alphabet online, and instead simply charted out something that looked good to me on graph paper.

I took this photo on my phone when I finished stitching during a weekend mini-vacation in Hickory, NC. I forgot to take a true completed shot of the piece before I gave it to Heather, but I did remove the fuzz from the place where I took out the period, spot cleaned the fabric, and finished it in the frame following these instructions on the Stitch Modern blog.

(For those who might be wondering about the censorship: Heather is no shrinking violet, but she has conservative in-laws and a young nephew that she cares not to upset, so I opted for something that would be easier for her to display openly if she chose.)

After the success of Heather’s handmade socks, it was no surprise—but also no less gratifying—that she gleefully embraced a bit of cheeky home decor.