Ice, Ice Baby

Mother Nature has been cruel of late. More snow, more ice. Will it ever end? Of course it will. In fact the rest of the week is looking up, way up in terms of temperature and sunshine!

[insert mental picture here of incredibly grey day]

It’s amazing how kids still embrace snow even in April. They still take pleasure from the fun that snow provides. Such a simple joy and frankly one we could all learn from, if we would just stop being such grumpy-pants. When do we lose that innocent joy in simple things? At what point in our stretch to adulthood do we refuse to embrace snow and just stay nasty all winter long?

The temperature is rising so it’s becoming slushy as I write. So, Mother Nature, perhaps it was just more moisture we needed to get our gardens growing this spring. After all, you know best.

Before we know it, we’ll be begging for ice in our drinks to cool the oppressive heat of summer. Cheers to that!

This post is inspired by the letter I and the A to Z Blogging Challenge. I'm an unofficial participant who sadly missed the letter H. Please don't be offended, I have nothing personal against the letter H. 

Gosh and Golly Gee

G. I am stymied by G. I will undoubtedly think of something once I hit 'publish' on this. But for now, all I can think is "Gee Willikers, G is a tough one!"

G is for good. G is for game. G is for Granny, how we do miss her. G is for Gin, a good friend and a good drink (to some). G is for grain, how lucky you are if you can eat some. G is for Google, a daily part of our lives. G is for glasses,  I need 'em and so does Smidgie. 

G is good. A good letter. Keeps F and H company. Gee, thanks. 

F is for Fibre, not Fiber

I know, I know. You want to spell it ‘fibre’ not ‘fiber’. That is if you live below the 49^th parallel. Those of us above the 49^th parallel spell it ‘fibre’. 

Actually I’m lying. A good portion of Canada’s population lives below the 49^th parallel; myself I live at the 43.6339° N parallel. I didn’t use anything more sophisticated that Google to come up with that. Sorry if that spoils your image of me doing something highly techy to figure that out.

If you know me, you know I’m a fiercely proud Canadian and a stickler for spelling and grammar, hence the need to write a paragraph about the spelling of fibre. Now, let’s move on, shall we?

Yes, today’s blog post is sponsored by the letter F. Okay, not sponsored. That would imply that F has some funds (see what I did there?) and is spending it on my writing. As far as I know, F is flat broke. Today’s blog post is inspired by the letter F. Phew.

Fibre is fantastic. Fibre is fun. Fibre is….what I live for in actual fact. No I don’t mean that I calculate the fibre content of my diet, day in and day out. While I do enjoy fruits and vegetables and try to enjoy a very healthy diet, I’m not referring to that kind of fibre. To me, that’s not fun or fantastic. I live on that kind of fibre, not for it.

Fibre is wool, cotton, hair, silk, linen, thread, fabric, yardage, art, craft, and so much more. As a maker (I prefer to call myself a maker instead of getting into the overly discussed topic of crafter versus artist), I am moved, inspired and thrilled by fibre in all its many forms. I love fibre and the limitless opportunities for making with fibre. Natural fibres…all the way, baby.

On the subject of fibre, I finished hooking my “Bunny Warhol” piece* last night (shown above). Here it is in its unfinished glory. Finishing will happen. Eventually.

So to wrap up, for F's sake enjoy fibre in all its forms and spellings!

Today's post is my part in the A to Z Blogging Challenge, which I am not officially part of (long story). 

*For those of you that have been reading this blog longer than a week, you realize that Bunny Warhol will be considered part of the #16in16 challenge. 

ECHO Echo echo

Echo echo echo

The other night I was in a church hall that has one of the worst cases of echo I have ever experienced. I’m sure the ringing in my ears had nothing to do with the fifteen screaming 9-11 year olds in the room! Nope. Literally had to escape a couple of times and let my ears calm down.

Which brings me to the other meaning of echoing, something that’s used in craft/art pursuits such as quilting and hooking. Probably others as well that I’m not well versed in.

I know that some people are not fans of echoing in rug hooking, but it’s a personal favourite of mine. I don’t answer to the rug hooking police….you know who you are. Or actually maybe you don’t. You may not realize that you get all judge-y with other people’s work. In my world there is no “right” way to do things. Perhaps there are techniques that serve to accomplish certain desired (to some) outcomes but I don’t worry about those.

So back to the echo. I fancy an echo in hooking, yes I do. If you’re not sure what I mean by echoing, it’s when a strong line or key element is followed exactly and repeatedly with the next row of hooking.

In one piece I completed several years ago, I made Echoing a major element of the piece instead of a subtle means of filling in the background. That’s just how I roll. 

Actually I’m not usually a rule breaker in life. Getting in trouble troubled me deeply as a child. Being sent to the principal’s office was my greatest dread. Now I feel like more of a rebel to know that in this one small way I’m a bad ass.

A bad ass who’s ears can’t handle the screaming of fifteen kids in an echo-y room. 

Today's post is courtesy of the letter E and the A to Z Blogging Challenge. Which I'm not officially part of because I tried to sign up too late, but I'm still participating. Bad ass again. Did you see that?